#we're calling you queen x
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starrynightsxo · 7 months ago
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*insert jurdan babies*
jurdan baby 1: why do you think dad always looks scared of mum after he tells her to leave as a joke
jurdan baby 2: idk bro maybe we should ask...
the family: *share knowing looks*
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von-eldritch · 2 years ago
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//oh fuck oh wait tumblr nuked my tags fr (AGAIN)
gonna use this opportunity to change charlie’s tag but RIP IN SHIT to me ig
I will probably have missed some but I am! not concerned about that rn
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astonmartinii · 6 months ago
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but daddy i love him [guilty as sin part two] | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader
when an unstoppable force (the sainz men when they feel aggrieved) meets an immovable object (charles and y/n)
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
carlossainz55
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liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 783,409 others
carlossainz55: never forget where you came from
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user100: insert cricket noises here
user101: who on your PR team said this was a good idea?
user102: they need to be fired, sorry not sorry
landonorris: i love your dad (tell him to stop beating me at golf)
carlossainz55: if he never lets me win he's definitely never letting you win
landonorris: so unfair i thought i was the third sainz sibling :(
carlossainz55: i'm an only child
landonorris: oh-
user103: i need this man to choke i'm being so serious rn
user104: that's so unbelievably fucked
user105: the fact his dad is probably co-signing this shit is insane that's YOUR DAUGHTER
user106: also someone give lando a lil slap around he's on the wrong side of history on this one
yourusername: scandal does funny things to pride
carlossainz55: if the scandal is betraying your family that's all you
yourusername: if we're talking about betrayal then that's your specialist subject mr. i've cheated on every girl i've ever been with - and while we're on the topic of betrayal, yes i was the one who told them
carlossainz55: i've never cheated why are you stooping to lies?
yourusername: you did it right in front of my face when i was a part of this family
carlossainz55: so you've always been comfortable going behind my back
yourusername: that's the thing, when you're treated like you don't exist by your family you learn that blood is not thicker than water
carlossainz55: i can't wait for charles to cheat on you
yourusername: btw i already called marca, they know any of those allegations from you or dad are false - good luck!
user10: obvs i know they should be doing this in private but MORE DRAMA FOR ME BABY LETS KEEP THIS GOING
user107: thank you for the validation y/n i KNEW THE SHIT STIRRING COMING FROM THAT PAPER WAS THE SAINZ CAMP
user108: and they've got the nerve to be talking about stooping - the call is coming from inside the house
maxverstappen1: ugly twins
carlossainz55: really?
maxverstappen1: i said what i said and i mean what i said
carlossainz55: i would say she's not going to fuck you bro but you really never know with her
maxverstappen1: she would never, homewrecking is a trait only the male sainzs seem to have
user109: OOP
user110: max is a real lestappen queen fighting the battles he knows charles can't
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yourusername
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liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 893,405 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: if you know within one glimpse, its legendary
view all comments
user114: i love how she goes from fighting her brother in one comment section to just showing off her hot bf
user115: tbf charles does have a face you'd go to war for so i get her
user116: i'd abandon my family for that face
yourusername: finally someone who fucking gets it
charles_leclerc: you made me believe in love at first sight
yourusername: awwwwww you're such a sweet talker the REAL smooth operator
pierregasly: i can verify it was love at first sight cause the man did not SHUT THE FUCK UP about you well... ever
charles_leclerc: is it a crime to love my girlfriend?
pierregasly: apparently!
yourusername: he's too cute to go to jail :(
charles_leclerc: they'd ruin me
yourusername: that's my job 🤨
pierregasly: you keep that to yourselves
user117: does this girl need to shade carlos on every single fucking post... yeah we get it he's the only reason you're relevant but god you reek of desperation
oscarpiastri: is this carlos' burner account?
user118: are the grid just sat around waiting to be tagged in to the fight against carlos?
oscarpiastri: what's he going to do? crash into me? he does that every weekend anyway
user119: uh oh carlos oscar is finally fighting back off track what are you going to do
user120: don't worry i'm sure he'll post a selfie with lando and try the whole carlando shtick to get some more PR points
maxverstappen1: oh this was not the shit slinging post i was hoping for
yourusername: something tells me you're having way too much fun with this
maxverstappen1: yeah you might have been abandoned by your family but have YOU considered that this is letting me express all my mean girl energy off track so i am level-headed on track
maxverstappen1: actually i don't even think i'm being mean tbf
yourusername: i'm glad my suffering could be your therapy
carlossainz55: BOO HOO you're not suffering ... it's something called the consequences of your actions (read: actions being a snakey slut)
yourusername: bro over here acting like i committed fratricide
maxverstappen1: TAP ME IN
maxverstappen1: not this man talking about the consequences of actions. kids, here's a little life lesson: if you spend all your time at your current job talking about how you have a much better job waiting for you and how you're too big for this job and plant stories about your co-workers, you can't be surprised that that same job doesn't want to keep you
carlossainz55: i am better than charles
yourusername: lying is a sin
maxverstappen1: and you're going straight to hell
user121: you guys might be mourning the loss of charlos (whatever the fuck that is) but i'm celebrating the absolute shit ton of LESTAPPEN we're getting
user122: max was like oh my bff is dating charles here's my excuse to be nice about him again
user123: if we're being real here the biggest crime of this whole situation is the fact that charles can't really dig the knife in
user124: @ silvia i have maybe £4.50 and a greggs sausage roll to my name but PLEASE LET CHARLES TAP IN
f1
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liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,298,006 others
tagged: oscarpiastri & carlossainz55
f1: f1... the sport that gives you just as much drama off track as we do on track!
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user125: at this point even before the whole carlos ousting his sister i think oscar was about 👌🏻 this close to rocking carlos nascar style we should let him do it
user126: i will personally pay his legal fees tbh
oscarpiastri: i'm only 23 i don't need two F1-related legal cases to my name
yourusername: i've watched legally blonde about ten billion times let me represent you
oscarpiastri: yeah sounds legit
user127: THAT'S IT WE NEED PROXIMITY CHAT IN F1
user128: the way we know there was a shit talking session like no other after this race
maxverstappen1: i don't kiss and tell but well - yes!
user128: okay since this is clearly a safe space... who was there please spill mr. verstappen
maxverstappen1: ME! charles, pierre, oscar, checo, alex and george!
user128: why the fuck were the last two there?
georgerussell63: i was on official GDPA duty 🤓
alexalbon: that's a lie we're just very nosey
yourusername: they're the biggest PTA moms ever don't even lie
georgerussell63: yes i'll make allergy friendly cupcakes for the bake sale but i'll also spit in them and gossip about your cheating husband - sorry about it!
alexalbon: he's not
georgerussell63: i'm not
user129: carlos slagging off y/n but she's really brought the grid together
user130: george and alex being like we do not care about that but we do want the latest scoop
alexalbon: oh don't get it twisted we're firmly team y/n
user131: we even got the f1 admin in on the drama
carlossainz55: she's probably fucking them as well
yourusername: BORING get a new bit babe
carlossainz55: if i see whore i'm going to say whore
yourusername: aren't you still in that damn stewards office?
carlossainz55: tell your little lap dog to keep his front wing away from my car and maybe i wouldn't
oscarpiastri: suck my dick
yourusername: now that's true poetry
user132: oH!
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 763,409 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, logansargent & oscarpiastri
yourusername: florida !!!!!!!!!!! is one hell of a drug. no seriously what is in the water here i keep picking up these little guys everywhere i go
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user135: she's really like i AM spanish and i will colonise this grid
user136: stealing all the lil cuties for her cause
oscarpiastri: proud to be a part of this weird little circus thing we've got going on
yourusername: oh dibs on ring master
logansargent: i feel like my name is written all over tight rope walking
yourusername: okay yes skinny legend
maxverstappen1: obvs we're a cruelty free circus so no lions but if there were lions, that's me babe
maxverstappen1: SOME people could learn... cough, cough trophy hunters
charles_leclerc: idk i'll just take the one where i can sit there and be pretty
yourusername: and you would be the best at it
oscarpiastri: which one does the least? i'll take that one
user137: bro can we slow the fuck down i was just getting over osc telling carlos to suck his dick now we're talking CIRCUS?
user138: for real couldn't it have at least been cabaret i wanna see ALL of that
charles_leclerc: 🤨
carlossainz55: i think a circus is a perfect way to describe your desperate attempt to stay relevant
yourusername: don't you have a job to go to? oh wait...
carlossainz55: as if i'm threatened by a group with the likes of logan sargent in it
logansargent: bit harsh, i'm a nice guy (unlike some)
yourusername: carlos here's a little bit of a wild thing i'm about to introduce to you.... people have friends?
yourusername: also you WISH you had a face card like logie
carlossainz55: i have friends?
yourusername: no you have PR strategies, there's a difference
carlossainz55: bro learnt the word PR and ran with it
yourusername: tell me one person who would let you crash on their couch?
yourusername: QUICKLY.
fernandoalo_oficial: and don't even think about mentioning me
user139: she hit him with the bianca del rio
user140: OOP and also nando just popping up out of nowhere to diss carlos and never say anything again
charles_leclerc: the drug in question being puppy fever
maxverstappen1: tell me you didn't get a dog
yourusername: boy do i have news for you
carlossainz55: are you trying to baby trap him
yourusername: first woman in history to birth a dog you heard it here first
charles_leclerc: you simply can't be babytrapped when you would literally jump off a bridge if asked to
user141: @myboyfriend TAKE NOTES HONEY ^^^
charles_leclerc
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,745,093 others
tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri
charles_leclerc: two kids in one month? someone stop us
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user142: y/n really lost an apartment and a brother and gained about 27 f1 drivers and a dog
user143: glow up of the century some might say
liked by charles_leclerc
yourusername: soz it's a coping mechanism
charles_leclerc: and that's okay <3
maxverstappen1: anything to help with that emotional CONSTIPATION
yourusername: have you tried to live with those narcissistic and emotionally unavailable men?
maxverstappen1: you're asking the wrong person that question honey
yourusername: girl are WE good?
maxverstappen1: no
yourusername: BUT THAT'S OKAY
charles_leclerc: not to rain on this parade but i think therapy would really be a positive move here
user144: i feel bad for charles cause i know these hoes are the type to just tell each other EXACTLYYYYY when they make poor decisions
maxverstappen1: true, no smart bitches would let their bff live with THAT man
yourusername: and let their bff constantly chat shit and ruin their image
maxverstappen1: can't ruin my image if i'm spitting FACTS
user145: max will nawt let this go
maxverstappen1: i'll forget you but i'll never forgive the smallest man who ever lived
yourusername: GIRL
maxverstappen1: whoops, one sec. spoiler alert: y/n unleased poetry. trigger warning: c*rlos s*inz
olliebearman: ollie bearman erasure
charles_leclerc: GASP OLLIE I AM SO SORRY
yourusername: no he actually is he's crying
charles_leclerc: it's the pregnancy hormones
olliebearman: it's okay i swear
charles_leclerc: I'M A TERRIBLE FATHER
carlossainz55: i could've told you that for free
olliebearman: why are you in our family buisness
user146: charles is channelling all of his carlos rage through ollie oh my
olliebearman: i am a happy conduit for my father who is in the ferrari PR jail
yourusername: can we send carlos here and throw away the key?
user147: charles is really out there like keep my girl's name out of your mouth cause even the bitch who stole your seat for a weekend is my SON
user148: y/n wasn't joking about with this grid domination
user149: but also i'm glad all of this fun stuff is happening amongst all of the shit that's been thrown at her from her family
oscarpiastri: a leclerc and proud (i race like my dad and throw shade like my mum)
yourusername: the best way to be
charles_leclerc: proud of you, you're such a good dog brother :)
oscarpiastri: i've just learnt to be patient after alpine and lando
yourusername: you still took your shoes being leo's personal bathroom really well
oscarpiastri: he's too cute to be mad at
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 824,109 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: first mother's day with my boys
view all comments
user150: gonna enjoy this super wholesome post before... he... ruins it
user151: manifesting a y/n post without that bitter old hag in the comment section
charles_leclerc: the best mother for our fur baby and our miscellaneous other children
yourusername: only the best with you :(
charles_leclerc: ugh i love you so much
yourusername: i love you even more
user152: they're so fucking cute
user153: damn carlos i too would be angry if my baby sister and my teammate outshined my third PR relationship in six months
user154: the sainz family have generational levels of hating, but one does it for good (poetry) and one does it for bad (anything carlos ever says)
oscarpiastri: happiest mother's day to my grid mum! here's to reading them to filth xx
yourusername: OSC!! i always knew you were my favourite aussie
danielricciardo: did my enchante PR mean nothing?
yourusername: i mean i wear it all of the time... but it's osc ...
danielricciardo: true, i broke my hand before i could even think of accidentally hurting him
user155: also babe is looking so unbothered, moisturised and free we need the skin care routine
oscarpiastri: the tears of carlos sainz
yourusername: and cleansing your life of toxic family members
user156: okay clearly oscar was done with the whole "i'm so chill" bit cause since his adoption by charles and y/n he's been non stop on carlos' neck
oscarpiastri: i'm a ride or die for my mum cry about it
maxverstappen1: as the kids would say ... mother is mothering? @olliebearman did i do it right?
charles_leclerc: stop trying to steal my kids
maxverstappen1: BRO I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOUR GIRLFRIEND
charles_leclerc: that's literally my job 🤨
yourusername: tbf i'll take as many compliments as i can
charles_leclerc: are mine not enough?
yourusername: when you've got a self esteem this low, you gotta take what you can get
charles_leclerc: oh :(
user157: max and y/n fighting over who trauma dumps more about their upbringing
carlossainz55: this bit is very tiring. you'll be a terrible mother and all these people you think are your friends will drop you as soon as they know who you really are.
yourusername: you done?
carlossainz55: as you loveeeee to point out, i don't have much to lose anymore so i really wouldn't test me
yourusername: trying to make me homeless and stealing all of my money wasn't enough?
carlossainz55: charles will know the truth soon enough and you won't have us to come crying to
yourusername: i'll take those chances thank you
user158: hold ON what do you mean stole all her money
yourusername: i was never allowed my own bank account so all my earnings have gone to them!
user159: okay that's it WE RIDE AT DAWN
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fin.
note: oh girl life has been BUSY!!! i just got a new job and have been looking desperately for a flat to move out to. also i've had family visiting and going here, there and everywhere. but i hope you enjoy! this was a lil more light-hearted lol (until the end) so enjoy the addition of the leclerc family lore xx
ALSO i wanted to say a massive THANK YOU FOR 6,000 FOLLOWERS love you all <3
note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx
taglist: in comments!
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imaginedisish · 3 months ago
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Is It Casual Now? (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)
A/N: So this one is a couple of requests rolled into one. I got some asks about dancing around feelings, and some others about a fight/make up sex...and this is what I came up with. This is (very obviously) inspired by "Casual" by the queen herself, Chappell Roan. (Gif is not mine--from a user called trashy on Pinterest). Enjoy!
Summary: I know baby nooo attachment, but we're...KNEE DEEP IN THE PASSENGER SEAT AND YOU'RE EATING ME OUT IS IT CASUAL NOW?
Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), cockwarming, so much smut, feelings, friends w/benefits/secret affair to lovers, Logan is afraid to love but goddammit he loves you, angsty asf, cursing, happy ending :), fem!reader/afab!reader, probably some grammatical errors, I think that's it.
Word Count: 3,405 short...not...
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Over the course of his very long life, some of Logan’s memories have shifted, melded together. Days become nights and nights become days, an inescapable cycle with an indeterminate end. But Logan remembers the day he met you vividly. You tripped him up; sucked him out of the monotony of what at times felt like a meaningless existence. You changed everything. 
The summer air was hot and stuffy. He was standing in the hallway with Jean, Scott, Rogue, and Kurt. The door opened, sunlight filling the dark foyer. And then there you were, stepping inside, with Charles and Storm flanking you. 
Your eyes found his immediately. “My X-Men, this is our new recruit,” Charles had said, introducing you to the team. But you were only focused on the man in the middle. The man with the leather jacket and the dark black hair. 
“Hi,” you said shyly with a wave of your hand, eyes still focused on Logan. The rest of the team excitedly introduced themselves, but you weren’t listening. 
Logan smiled. “Hi,” he said back. He was all you could see. 
And he still is. But you’re dancing around your feelings—the both of you. You allow yourselves to give in, but only under the cover of darkness. Only in bed. Late at night. When the rest of the team is fast asleep. It’s always quiet; rushed steps down the hallway and soft taps on doors. Tripping into the darkness of a room to find the bed. A mess of limbs tangled together, moon high in the sky, cold light trickling through the curtains. 
It’s the early hours of the morning, the dawn creeping in through your window. Logan’s arm is wrapped around you, his hand holding your breast. It’s so domestic, so intimate. But you know he’s going to leave—one of you always leaves. Lately, it hurts worse every time the bed goes cold. 
“I should go,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. He tugs you closer, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He’s still hard, his erection brushing against the curve of your ass. You push back into him teasingly. 
“Stay,” you beg, your hips rocking against him. 
He kisses your neck. “Can’t. You know we can’t.” 
Your heart drops. You don’t know how much more of this arrangement you can take. The leaving. The hiding. The secretiveness. “Why?” You ask, separating from him. You roll over onto your other side to face him. “Why can’t we?”
“We just can’t,” he grunts, pushing himself up and out from under the covers. He finds his clothes on the ground and starts to dress himself. You sit up too, tears suddenly brimming behind your eyes. 
You shake your head. “That’s not an answer, Lo.” 
“Please,” he says, tugging his beater across his chest. He leans over you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “You have to understand.” 
You nod, but you don’t understand. He kisses you once more before stepping quietly towards the door. His hand hovers over the doorknob, like part of him can’t take this either. Like he has to fight some demon deep inside him not to crawl back into bed and pull you close. You know him; you can see it in his face, in the way he stands.  
“See you later?” You ask, swallowing nervously. You need to hear him say it—need him to remind you that this isn’t over. You’re desperate for anything—desperate for him. 
Logan smiles. “Yeah,” he nods. “Come to my room tonight, okay?”
You fight back your tears, plastering a fake smile on your face. “Okay.”
And then he’s slipping out the door, softly shutting it behind him. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later that night…
His sheets are soft under your back. His arm holds you down, latched tightly over your hip, keeping your lower half glued to the mattress. His face is buried deep in your cunt. He’s lapping at you hungrily, needily. 
“Thought about you all day,” he mumbles against you, the bassy vibration of his voice sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. His fingers pump in and out of you, fast and hard. “Wanted to taste you so bad, pretty girl.” 
“Logan,” you whine as he takes your clit between his lips, sucking roughly. “F-feels so good.” 
Your walls flutter around him as he sinks his fingers deeper inside you. There’s a hunger in his eyes, a desperation you’re well acquainted with. You feel it whenever you’re around him, whenever he’s pressing himself closer to you, pushing himself inside of you. 
“Doing so good for me, darlin’,” he soothes, his thumb drawing circles into your hip. “Tastes so fucking good, so sweet.” His words are practically throwing you over the edge, destroying you, and then building you back up. 
He’s knuckle-deep inside you, lapping at you, watching your every reaction to see what makes you feel good. The sight of him is overwhelming—his mouth latched onto your clit, hair a mess, sweat on his brow, lust darkening his eyes. 
You throw your head back as he hits your sweet spot, his fingers scissoring inside you. “S-so close,” you stutter as he sinks into you. “Need you, Lo,” you whimper. 
“Need you too, beautiful,” he murmurs between laps. “More than you’ll ever know.” The words—their vulnerability and meaning—push you over, your orgasm crashing in waves. “That’s it,” he coos, plunging into you. “Give it to me.” He talks you through it, soft praises slipping from his lips as his tongue drags along your clit. Lemme taste you come, sweetheart. So good. So fucking beautiful. 
He pulls his fingers from your cunt long after you’ve finished. He licks one long stripe through your folds before crawling up your body and settling in between your legs. His lips find yours, and you can taste yourself on his mouth, on his tongue, wearing you like a badge of honor, like proof of his commitment to you.
Commitment. Right.  
He made you feel so good that you almost let yourself forget. Your arrangement. This stupid, goddamn arrangement. 
No staying. No telling. You. Him. The moonlight. And then nothing. 
Logan’s face is buried in the crook of your neck, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive spot underneath your ear. 
“Lo,” you whisper. He hums against you, not stopping. “Logan,” you chide again. 
He pushes himself up, looking down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “What is it, princess?” You swallow harshly, blinking back your tears. The expression on his face shifts as he recognizes the pain in your eyes. “You okay? Did I hurt you?” 
You shake your head. “I want you,” is all you say. 
“I want you too,” he says back, pressing his forehead to yours. 
“N-no,” you choke. “I want you.”
He pulls up a bit, putting some space between the two of you. “You have me,” he says, confusion painted across his face. 
“No, I don’t,” you mutter, shutting your eyes. 
Logan rolls off of you and sits up against the headboard. “What are you talking about?” 
You open your eyes, looking up at him. “I can’t do this ‘sneaking around’ thing anymore,” you start, tears flooding your eyes as you struggle to hold them back. “I want—” you cut yourself off. You can’t play down your emotions anymore. “I need you, all of you. Always. I’m tired of leaving, of hiding, of this whole casual thing.”
“Casual?” His voice is harsh, accusatory. “This isn’t fucking casual to me. You think I don’t care about you?” He reaches out to touch you, but you turn away, swinging your legs around the side of the bed. You grab your clothes from the floor and dress quickly. 
You turn back to face him. “Why don’t you want to stay with me, then? Why are we only together when no one is looking?” You shake your head, your hands balling into fists. “Why don’t you want me all the time?”
He scoffs, standing from the bed and striding over to you. “You don’t get it. I do. I want you. I just can’t—”
“You can’t what?” You shout. You don’t care who can hear you. You’re not even thinking about the others right now. You’re only thinking about Logan. And then, the words shoot out your mouth, cold and angry. Empty. Strained. “Can’t love me like I love you?”
Your eyes widen, shocked at what you’ve just said. Your chest heaves, and you rush to the door. 
“Wait, please,” Logan calls, running to catch you before you leave. “Don’t go.” 
You twist the knob. “It’s too late now.” You open the door and slip out, trying to shove it closed in his face. But Logan pushes against you, keeping the door open and stepping out into the hallway. You turn around and storm down the corridor, ignoring his footsteps following behind. 
He grabs your wrist, and you yank it away. You’re in front of your bedroom door now. Logan is just a few feet away. “Just leave me alone, okay?”
His eyes search yours frantically. “No, let’s talk. Let’s—”
You cut him off. “I don’t want to anymore, Lo.” You open your door, ignoring his pleas, leaving him on the other side as you slam it shut behind you. You rest your back against the cold wood, sliding down to the floor. You pull your legs into your chest, your head resting on your knees. 
Your tears flow freely now, running down your cheeks. You sit like that for what feels like hours, sobs racking through your chest. But when your tears finally subside and you look up, you see the moon is still high in the sky. 
You force yourself to stand, your knees weak as you push yourself off the ground. Your throat is dry from all that time spent crying. You decide to go down to the kitchen, to get water, to calm down. But when you open the door, you’re met with him. 
Logan. He’s on the other side, his hand gripping the door frame, muscles flexing, towering over you. You try to slip under his arm, but he doesn’t let you, grabbing your waist and holding you in place. 
“We need to talk,” he mutters, backing you into the room and shutting the door with a kick. 
You cross your arms against your chest. “There’s nothing left to talk about.” But he isn’t standing down. Your thighs back into the edge of your bed as Logan leans down over you. You look up at him, doing your all not to give in to the voice that screams to touch him, to taste him. You take a deep breath. “We want different things. You don’t want me the way I want you, and that’s fine,” you lie; it isn’t fine at all. 
“I never said that,” he huffs, his fingertips tentatively stroking your arms. You can’t pull away as his eyes find yours. “I just…” he trails off, taking your hands in his. 
You scoff, shaking your head. “You can’t even tell me how you feel. You can’t even—” “Because it’s hard!” He says, his jaw working. “It’s hard when you lose everyone you love.” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “You don’t get it,” he murmurs, squeezing your hands, his chest heaving. 
“Logan—”
“You’re always around, always on my fucking mind.” He pauses, his eyes glossing over as the words fall from his lips. “I have never loved someone the way I love you. And if I lose you…if I can’t have you…” He trails off, pain clear on his face. “I will never be the same again. You changed me. And that’s terrifying. I felt safer keeping you at a distance but…” His breath catches in his throat. “I can’t go back to how I was before you.”
Your lips part as you stammer, searching for the right thing to say. “I-I didn’t know. I just assumed that you—” “That I was just fucking you?” He asks, tilting his head in disbelief. “This has never been just fucking.” He slots his knee between your legs, tugging you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I love you. Always have. From that first day.” 
You lean into his touch. “I love you, too,” you whisper. 
He presses his forehead to yours. “I can’t lose you,” he says. There’s a tremble in his voice. “It’s just you. It’s only ever gonna be you.”
“You’re not going to lose me,” you reassure. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” 
He nods against you. “I never meant to hurt you,” Logan husks. “Never meant to make you feel like I didn’t love you.”  
“Logan, it’s okay,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. You need him closer, and you know he needs you too. His hands slip underneath your shirt as his knee nudges against your center. “Always gonna need you.” You can’t help but grind down on him, the pressure relieving the building ache in your core. “N-need you now.”
“Need you too, pretty girl,” he soothes. He guides you down onto the mattress. His palms spread across your stomach, tracing over your ribs—just under your breasts. “Wanna make you feel good.” He cups your tits, squeezing softly, his thumbs ghosting over your nipples. 
Logan settles on top of you, balancing on his forearm, his knee still pressing into your all too-clothed cunt. He knows how much you need him—the way your hips roll against him, how you arch up to meet his touch. 
“L-Lo,” you stutter, dragging your heat against him again. “Fuck me, please.” 
“Fuck,” he mutters, his erection hard against your thigh. You can feel his resolve slipping. “Gonna give you what you want, pretty girl,” he groans. “Give you anything you want.”
Everything is rushed, frantic, needy. He’s sitting up, grabbing your shirt and pulling it over your head, practically ripping it in the process. He hooks his thumbs into the waistbands of your shorts and panties, tugging them down your legs in one quick movement. 
He takes you in, his eyes flitting up and down your body. “So fucking beautiful,” he breathes, his hand squeezing your hip reverentially before tearing off his beater and throwing it to the floor. He slips his sweatpants down his legs, and then his boxers. 
Logan pushes you into the center of the bed as he climbs over you. He balances on his forearm while his free hand wraps around the base of his cock, guiding himself to your entrance. 
You can tell he wants to shove himself inside, to take you greedily, but he doesn’t. He’s holding back; going slow like he’s remembering this so he can think about it later, when he needs it most—savoring the feeling of you against him. His tip slides through your folds, teasing your entrance. He nudges against your clit, spreading your arousal. 
But his composure quickly cracks. He’s suddenly sinking inside you deeply—down to the hilt—with no warning, taking up every inch you have to give him. He stretches you out, the size of him still no easier to take than that first time he fucked you. “Logan,” you whine, hands pawing at his back for support. 
He swallows your whimpers with a kiss. “I’m right here.” His voice is honeyed as he talks you through it. “I’ve got you, pretty girl. Not going anywhere.” He pulls out and shoves himself back inside, deeper this time. His fingers are on your clit now, circling softly. “So fucking tight, so wet. Perfect pussy.”
His cock rubs your inner walls deliciously, pumping in and out. He’s on top of you, inside you, and he’s yours. He’s all yours. You wrap your legs around his waist as he rocks into you. He’s building his pace, letting himself go. 
“It’s s-so good.” You stumble over your words, already fucked out. “Y-you’re so good.” 
His thrusts are faster now, his hips snapping roughly into yours. “So soft,” he murmurs, biting your bottom lip and then licking away the sting he left behind. “So fucking soft and pretty. Taking me so good, darlin’.”
His words spark that fire in your belly. You can feel it spread down, down, down. The ache between your legs blooming, turning into something bigger. Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him. He groans at the feeling as you take him deeper. All you want, all you need, is him. Logan. “Yours,” you whisper. “L-Logan I’m all yours. Not going anywhere.”
“Shit,” he curses, pounding into you, all the way hit after hit. “You’re all I need,” he confesses between thrusts, panting. He flicks your clit, pinching, circling hard. “Mine, all fucking mine. Never gonna let go.”
“Don’t,” you beg, his forehead pressing to yours. He’s all-consuming; he’s everywhere and he’s everything. “D-don’t let go,” you finish, your lips ghosting his. He takes the hint, and his lips crash down onto yours as he ruts into you. 
You can feel yourself cresting, ready to let go. “I know you’re getting close for me, beautiful,” Logan growls, pressing a kiss to that sweet spot under your ear. “Can feel you squeezing me.” Your walls clench around him, and he groans. “Yeah, just like that, sweetheart. Feels so good.”
“L-Lo…” you stutter, unable to form a coherent thought as he fucks into you, stroking your clit faster and harder. You’re falling apart underneath him, every thrust pushing you closer to that peak. You throw your head back, your eyes fluttering closed. 
“Eyes on me,” Logan demands, his voice thick and raspy. You listen, looking up at him. His eyes are locked on yours, lust-filled and dark. “Wanna see that pretty face when you come, darlin’.” 
You can feel his pace faltering—can feel him getting closer too. But he’s relentless as his hips roll against yours, fingers still working your clit. It’s too much. “Logan,” you whimper. “I-I’m gonna…” “I know, beautiful,” he says softly. “Let go for me, wanna feel you come on my cock.” 
He thrusts again, flicking your clit. And that’s all it takes for you to crumble. He watches closely as you come undone. You’re trembling underneath him, his fingers still circling your core. Your muscles contract around him, sucking him in, taking him deeper. You moan his name like it’s a prayer, something holy. But this is beyond that. This is something more, something different. 
“L-love you, Lo,” you murmur, pleasure still coursing through your veins. 
Logan curses under his breath, your words unlocking something trapped inside him. His cock throbs against your walls, and you know he’s almost there. “Love you too, pretty girl,” he whispers. “Love you so fucking much.” He slides his hand up your body and under your back, pulling you closer. You need the contact, and so does he. 
“W-want you to come inside,” you whine, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. 
“F-fuck, yeah?” He stutters. His cock twitches again. “Gonna fill you up, sweetheart, give you what you need.” His lips find yours as he comes, kissing you hungrily. He’s warm inside you, painting your walls, filling you up just like he said he would. Logan’s head falls to your shoulder as his thrusts slow. He stalls inside you, staying there, not quite ready to slip out.
“Lo?” You call. He hums a yeah, sweetheart, into your shoulder. “D-don’t want you to pull out. Want you to stay inside.” 
He mutters a fuck and presses a kiss to your collarbone. He maneuvers the two of you under the covers, careful not to pull out. You’re a tangle of limbs, still connected, still together. He’s half hard inside you, and you know he’s not quite finished just yet. But there’s later, tomorrow, forever. Everything feels perfect—the way it was always meant to be. 
There’s one thing left to do; one thing left to ask. 
“Logan?” You call again. He smiles at you, pressing a chaste kiss to your nose. “Can you stay?”
His smile widens. “Always gonna stay,” he soothes, pulling you tighter to his chest, his hands rubbing up and down your back. “You never have to ask again.”
You hum, burying your head into the center of his chest. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he says against the crown of your head. “Always will. Always gonna stay.”
Always.
tags: @babygirl-4986
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saltywritings · 4 months ago
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Unsworn Protector ( Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen Niece! Reader )
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Summary: The reader is sent to Old Town with Daeron, however, is left in an uncomfortable situation when her uncle finds her with a pillow.
Warnings: explicit smut under the cut minors do not interact, incest, age gap, reader has a pillow princess moment, oral (female receiving), penetration, Gwayne is giving sub vibes.
Word count: 3,728
The journey to Old Town was arduous and slow, a monotonous trek that seemed designed to drain one's spirit. Few things could be more disheartening than being sent to Old Town, a place that felt like exile. Your mother, the queen, insisted that sending you and your younger brother Daeron there was for the best, claiming it would build character—whatever that meant. Yet, you couldn't shake the feeling that she simply preferred not to deal with you. Sending you and Daeron away made it easier for her to focus on Aegon. Despite her intentions, you were frustrated by being uprooted from your home, all in the name of this so-called character building.
When the carriage finally arrived in Old Town, your eyes took in the sights as you traveled swiftly through the city. Having spent your entire life in King's Landing, Old Town seemed exceptionally small. You noticed the tall walls surrounding the castle, some sections near the gate clad in ivy.
"Finally, we're here," Daeron exclaimed as he rushed to the carriage door, eager to free himself from its confines.
With a mix of frustration and disgust, you pushed at your brother’s back as he deliberately blocked the carriage door, trapping you inside. "Daeron!" you shouted, your hands shoving at the coarse fabric of his shirt. "Let me out, you fool!" You struggled against him as he laughed, his mirth only heightening your irritation.
Suddenly, another voice cut through the commotion. "Come now, my prince. Let your sister out," it urged. Reluctantly, Daeron relented and stepped down the few stairs, finally freeing you from the confined space of the carriage.
As you finally freed yourself from the carriage, you realized the voice belonged to your uncle, Gwayne Hightower. Though many years had passed since you last saw him, you recognized him instantly. Stepping forward, your feet now firmly planted on the ground, you shot a sharp glare at Daeron, resisting the urge to shove him, before turning back to your uncle.
"Thank you, Uncle," you said with a small nod.
Daeron, looking bewildered, finally noticed Gwayne. "Oh—Uncle Gwayne. I didn’t recognize you," he replied, prompting you to narrow your eyes.
"I’m not surprised," you said. "You were but a babe the last time he visited."
"Indeed you were," Gwayne said with a warm smile. "I'm surprised you recognize me, Princess. You've grown as much as your brother."
He stepped forward, extending his hand toward you. You raised yours to meet his, and he took it gently, bringing it to his lips with a delicate kiss that conveyed a soft, caring warmth. Your eyes fluttered slightly as you looked at him, appreciating the affectionate gesture.
"You've grown so much," he remarked, turning his attention to Daeron.
"I'm certain I haven't grown that much," you insisted with a modest smile.
Daeron glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and snorted. "Oh, trust me, you’ve grown—just not in height, sister," he mocked. Unable to restrain yourself, you gave him a small shove in response.
Your uncle watched the exchange, a faint smile playing on his lips, and shook his head with a soft chuckle at your sibling rivalry.
Gwayne shook his head with a gentle sigh, his gaze shifting to Daeron. "Now, nephew, I understand why your mother insisted on sending you here. One day, you'll realize the value of your sister's presence. Treat her with the respect she deserves," he urged, his tone firm yet compassionate. You cast a sidelong glance at your brother, a small smile playing on your lips now that your uncle had come to your defense.
Daeron responded with an eye roll, his demeanor defiant. Gwayne cleared his throat, his expression turning more serious. "I'll have your cousin show you to your room, Daeron," he declared, nodding towards him. "As for you, Princess," Gwayne continued, extending his arm toward you. "I will personally escort you to your chambers." You took his arm promptly, grateful for his support and guidance in this unfamiliar place.
Gwayne escorted you up the stairs and down a hallway to your assigned room. As the door swung open, you couldn't shake the feeling of entering a stranger's room. Though the space was well-appointed and fair, it lacked the personal touch of home. Sensing your unease, Gwayne spoke up as the two of you entered.
"This will be your chambers. My quarters are just next door," he explained, his voice reassuring. "Consider me your protector, close at hand." His words were accompanied by a small, comforting smile.
In that moment, you realized Gwayne's striking presence: his piercing blue eyes, chiseled jawline, and eloquent speech. His demeanor offered a sense of security that eased your nerves, prompting you to return his smile warmly.
"You are to be your sworn protector then?" you questioned, eyebrows knitting together as you stood somewhat puzzled. Gwayne couldn't help but chuckle softly as he shook his head.
"No, sweet niece. There's no need for that here," he reassured you gently, "but I promise to watch over you." His words carried a comforting assurance.
You nodded in understanding, your hand still linked with his arm. "Did my mother explain why she sent me here?" you asked, recalling her vague answers and insistence that leaving the Red Keep was in your best interest. Gwayne sensed your unease and took your hands in his with tender care.
"Niece," he spoke softly, "Your mother didn't want to send you away, but you're soon to be married—or at least betrothed. She thought it would be easier for you not to be uprooted from your home like many maidens are." His explanation caused you to look away, a mixture of emotions stirring within you.
"I don't want to be betrothed to a stranger," you confessed to your uncle, your hands still held in his. "The thought of belonging to a man I don't know, who doesn't know me—it frightens me."
Gwayne's expression softened at your confession. He released one of your hands and gently cupped your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. His blue eyes held a depth of understanding as he listened intently to your words.
"Your feelings are valid, my dear. Many women share your apprehensions—I know your mother did," Gwayne said soothingly, hoping to bring you comfort. "Besides, not every lady finds herself betrothed to a stranger. Try not to let fear cloud your judgment until you've had the chance to know your intended," he urged gently, sensing he had eased your nerves.
"I'll leave you to rest now," Gwayne added, seeing your nod of approval. With that, he quietly exited your chambers.
As night descended upon Old Town, you tossed and turned in your sleep, consumed by an unrelenting yearning. The unfamiliar blankets and sheets, devoid of your scent, offered no comfort. Frustrated, you reached for a plush pillow, sitting up and clutching it tightly between your thighs. Slowly, you would rock your hips back and forth, pushing down your core with some friction to alleviate this frustration that burned between your thighs. Your eyes fluttered closed, your night gown slipping from your shoulder as your hips desperately humped the pillow beneath you. You thought of your uncle, you knew you shouldn't, and yet- you could not help but to think of how kissed your hand, the blue of his eyes, how he smelled of sage.
On the other side of the door, Gwayne awoke to a plaintive sound that he initially mistook for a cry. Even through the stone walls, the soft echo of his niece's distress reached him. With concern driving him, Gwayne rose from his bed, the urgency of his duty as her uncle compelling him. He slipped into a pair of pants and quietly left his room.
It was his responsibility to care for and protect her in this unfamiliar place, in the absence of their family. Moving with cautious steps, Gwayne approached her door. Normally, he would have knocked, but in his haste and concern, he bypassed this customary courtesy. He gently pushed the door open, making as little noise as possible.
What Gwayne had come face to face with made him freeze, his entire body tensing up as he looked to the figure of you, the princess, feverously humping a pillow. Your shoulder exposed and hard nipples showing through the sheer of the night gown. Your eyes were still closed as your hips rocked against the pillow. Eyebrows pushed together as soft cries left your lips. Gwayne was more than aware that he should not be there, that he should not be witnessing this, and yet he could not tear his eyes away.
Then you said it, "Gwayne." His name left your lips like a melody and it took one hush of his name to make him impossibly hard. To the point in stung and bulged from his trousers. It was then your eyes fluttered open, and in a few blinks they widened realizing that your uncle stood in the doorway. In a panic your hands grasped the pillow and brought it up to cover yourself.
"Oh, Gods. Princess, I'm -I'm sorry -" Gwayne barely managed to gush an apology as he had went fleeing the room, closing the door behind him as he went rushing back to his room. In the midst of his embarrassment he had been sweating, his heart racing as he stayed in the confides of his room.
He was still hard. Gwayne tried not to think about you. He tried not to think about how you cried as you humped your pillow or how sweetly you spoke his name but he could not.
Gwayne would wrestle with himself for nearly an hour, but at the agony of his own groin he could not contain himself. Gwayne would still be standing as he pulled his pants down, freeing his length as he took it in one hand.
This was wrong, this was so wrong.
And still, he began to pump himself to the thought of you pleasing yourself with a pillow.
I shouldn't be doing this.
He wondered how it would feel to be between your soft thighs, to have you be humping him.
He was almost there.
To have you scream his name instead of whisper it.
Gwayne would soon spill his seed onto the ground as his hand feverishly pumped himself to the thought of you. Gwayne would attempt to find sleep that night but had been unable to do so.
When the next day dawned, you anticipated a conversation with your uncle about the events of the previous night. However, it soon became apparent that Gwayne was actively avoiding you. He didn't join you for breakfast or supper, and your cousin took it upon themselves to entertain you with a tour of Old Town, while another cousin kept you occupied with needlepoint throughout the day. Despite your efforts, the entire day passed without a glimpse of him.
Returning to your chambers in the evening, a growing discomfort settled within you. You couldn't shake the feeling that Gwayne's absence was deliberate. Did he feel embarrassed for having found you in distress? Was he ashamed of you? These thoughts churned in your mind as you lay on your bed, staring up at the canopy for what felt like an eternity.
Finally, unable to endure the uncertainty any longer, you threw off the blankets and stormed out of your chambers. Determined, you strode purposefully to his door, bypassing the courtesy of knocking—after all, he hadn't extended the same courtesy to you last night. You entered his chambers with your face flushed with agitation.
Inside, Gwayne was not asleep. He sat up in bed, bare-chested with the blankets draped over his hips, revealing that he wore nothing underneath either.
"Princess, what are you doing?" Gwayne asked abruptly, his gaze flickering to the sheerness of your nightgown, which left little to the imagination. It was evident that your attire was not quite appropriate for a princess, but after what Gwayne had witnessed the previous night, your choice of clothing was the least of your concerns.
"You walked in on me last night and now you avoid me all day?" you questioned boldly, lifting your chin as you approached his bedside. Gwayne's hands tightened on the blanket, his discomfort palpable as you drew nearer.
"You should go," he insisted, attempting to avert his eyes from you.
"Why?" You questioned sharply as he approached. "Are you ashamed of me now?"
Gwayne shook his head, you had not yet noticed, and he had hoped you hadn't as he looked away.
"It's not that." he insisted quietly.
Your eyes looked down the look of anger seeming to melt from your face as your eyes noticed the bulge beneath the blankets. He was hard, trying to hide it, but failing to do so.
"Please leave." He was begging with all restraint he had. Gwayne could not even look you in the eye as he kept the blankets around him.
You stood there for a moment unsure how to approach but desire beginning to burn between your legs as you looked to him.
"Do you desire me, uncle?" You questioned moving closer to him as a hand gently touched his thigh grabbing a handful of the sheets he was using to cover himself.
"It is wrong- I should not." He said, answering your question without actually answering your question. It was enough for you, his grip tightening to hold the sheets in place as you carefully slid one leg up on the bed, allowing it to rest on one side of him. Gwayne showed restraint, but only little.
"Who says?" you questioned, eyes staring into his as he finally had enough gull to look at you.
"The Gods." he declared. "Common law-" he tried to say with some reason, the one thread of restraint still holding on within him.
"Fuck the Gods," You declared as your hand gave a gentle pull at the sheets. "Fuck Common Law-" He continued to hold on as you pulled. "And fuck me." you said nearly pleading.
Gwayne held the blankets for a moment longer as his eyes looked to you. "You are a maiden, are you not?" He questioned unsure in this moment based on your behavior.
"I am." you declared honestly as you looked to him.
"I can not deflower my own niece." He said allowing a moment of pride to shield him.
"I do not want my first time to be with some lord that I am married off to as a bargaining chip." You insisted nearly pleading. "I desire you, uncle and you desire me." You declared, his grip on the sheet loosening.
Gwayne battled with himself for a moment, but only for a moment, for his strong hands would reach for your face, pulling you gently to meet his lips. Your body pulled onto him as your lips met his. Gwayne kissed your lips with the hunger of a starved man, his hands moved to your night gown and pulled it up, parting his lips to discard it from your body leaving you exposed to him.
He wasted little time in pushing you down onto the mattress, allowing himself to rest above you. In the moon light he took in your bare figure, soon peppering kisses between the valley of your breast and down your body to your cunt. His lips would kiss down to your bud before he grabbed onto your hips. Pulling your thighs to rest on his shoulders as his face pushed into your cunt in a way a pillow never could. It was by this that you were already squirming, back arching at his touch.
Gwayne would not hesitate to allow his tongue to lay flat against your flushed sensitive bud, your hips pushing down slightly as he tried to keep you in place with his grip. Gwayne would lick slowly, tasting your virgin cunt as if it was a delicacy, something he was determine to savor.
Soft moans left your lips as his tongue continued to work against your dripping cunt. Gwayne was carefully when he inserted a finger inside of you. He did not dare to put more than one for with just one finger he could feel how incredibly tight you were. a realization that caused his cock to ache.
Gwayne would slowly pump his finger in and out of you as you moaned loudly, your hands becoming entangled in his long locks, and your thighs pushing shut against him. Gwayne wanted to question you, to ask how you were so sensitive, why you tasted so sweet- but he could not bring himself to remove his tongue if the king himself demanded it.
There would be a hot coil inside of you that would form, growing tighter, as your wet cunt clenched around his finger, and within a moment the coil snapped. A warm orgasm flushing over you as your thighs squeezed his head without mercy, soft tears fell from your eyes as you came down from your high. You were panting as your thighs loosened, Gwayne would pull his finger from you before sticking it in his mouth to suck in clean of your sweet juices.
The two of you locked eyes as you stared at one another for a moment. His hard cock pushed against the inside of your thigh as he debated if he should go through with this.
"We shouldn't." Gwayne gave a small fight once more for the sake of his honor and your own.
"Who would know?" You offered a simple excuse, hoping he would not declare the gods again.
"Who would know . . ." he repeated before he nodded. "You're right. Who would know." Gwayne reasoned as he grabbed his cock as he had carefully begun to move it against the wet folds of your cunt.
"You could drink moon tea after." he suggested again as you nodded in response.
"You're sure?" he asked again his blue eyes looking to you with tender concern but also the last bit of restraint he had in him.
"I am." You said as you pushed yourself down on him slightly causing him to groan.
Gwayne could wait no longer and therefore he lined himself up at your entrance and gently he begun to penetrate you, sliding into your wet cunt slowly.
Your back arched at the feeling of him filling you, he stilled, with only part of himself in you.
"More." You whined out in a demand as you waited for him to fill you completely.
"Patient, princess. Please- I do not wish to be spent so soon." Gwayne insisted, he had slowly begun to push into you. Your legs would soon tighten around his waist, forcing him to put the rest of himself in. A moan came from the both of you as he would soon begin to move slowly.
"Gods, you're so tight." He groaned as he slowly thrusted in and out of you at a slow rate, doing his best not to spill himself inside of you this early.
Gwayne would allow his thumb to return to your swollen bulb, rubbing it softly as he continued to fuck you at a slow and passionate rate. Despite the slow thrust he pushed deep into your warm velvet walls each time, enjoying the feeling of you squeezing his entire length.
Gwayne would continue at this slow rate as you cried out, soon lewd sounds of your wetness would fill the room mixed with your moans.
"I want to be on top." You pleaded, his hips stilled with hesitation. "Please." you begged.
Gwayne hesitated, but even he could not resist. He pulled out of you slowly before allowing his body to fall onto the bed. You wasted no time climbing on top of him and taking his length in your hand. Carefully you lowered your hips onto him.
"Fuck." Gwayne would groan at the sight of you above him. The vision of a Targaryen princess nude above him, as your hips begun to feverishly bounce on his cock. It took everything in him to not spill himself in you at this very moment.
"Princess, please." He pleaded his hands grabbing on your waist to try and slow you down but it was no use, you used him. Moving your hips quickly as you looked to him.
"Hold on, uncle. I'm almost there." You would insisted in a moan as you continued, the feeling of him throbbing inside of you as you fucked yourself on him was enough to let out a cry of pleasure.
"Please get off . . . "He begged, "I shouldn't . . . not inside of you." He insisted more as he tried to steady your hips, though as you moved he relented.
Gwayne could not hold himself back any longer, his fingers dug into your flesh as he came deep inside you. You continued as he filled you with his warm seed. Allowing yourself to fuck every last drop inside of you, peeking your own orgasm that caused Gwayne to grit his teeth. You would roll your hips over him, riding out your high before falling helplessly on the bed next to him. His seed spilling onto your plush thighs.
Gwayne panted as he had looked over to you with soft affection. "I'll have the maester make you moon tea in the morning." he insisted as you looked over to him with a small smile.
"Perhaps if you seed me with your child mother would be forced to marry me to you." You offered looking to him next to you in the bed.
"Or she would have my head." he offered back.
When morning came you were nearly limping as you joined Daeron at the breakfast table, he seemed somewhat restless as he picked at the eggs on his plate.
"There you are." He declared looking to you with dark shadows surrounding his eyes.
"You look like shit." You declared to him with no one else around, he looked to you with somewhat of a resenting look.
"Yeah, well if you're going to fuck our uncle again could you at least keep it down." Daeron declared.
You froze at his comment, you were going to muster up some kind of denial but Daeron spoke again.
"My chambers are on the other side of Uncle Gwaynes." He informed you.
2K notes · View notes
struggling-with-drivers · 8 months ago
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Under the Opulence - Max Verstappen
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⋗ Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader
⋗ Summary - Your family isn't kind to you, and in fact, they all think Max would be a much better fit for your sister. Max likes to differ.
⋗ Word count - 3.4k words, hurt/comfort
⋗ Masterlist - This has been finished for some time, but I've only gotten around to given it a name Feedback and reblogs are appreciated
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The grandeur of your family's foyer, adorned with polished marble and intricate chandeliers, set the stage for Max’s introduction to the world you came from. As you and Max entered, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated through the opulent space, the air charged with excitement and anxiety, but most noticeably on your side, dread. 
Gabriella, your sister, emerged from an adjoining room, her presence demanding attention. With her radiant smile and effortless poise, she seemed to glide into the scene like a queen entering her court. She was the star of the family, the golden child who effortlessly commanded attention and adoration. With her striking looks and sharp intellect, she had always been the one to effortlessly charm anyone who crossed her path. Even your past romantic interests had succumbed to her allure, leaving you with the bitter taste of never good enough.
"It's okay, we're sisters," Gabriella would nonchalantly reassure you. "They weren't good enough for you if they wanted me more."
Her eyes, adorned with an air of confidence, locked onto Max, acknowledging his presence with a subtle yet unmistakable hint of curiosity. Bluntly scrutinising Max, she drank him up with her eyes, then she battered her long eyelashes a few times before slotting into the role of the perfect twin sister.
Max, a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter, met Gabriella's gaze with a polite smile. That was all your sister needed before stepping forward, presenting her hand gracefully, a subtle gesture that belied the underlying power dynamics at play. Max, being the gentleman he was, reciprocated the greeting with a warm shake. However, as the customary exchange lingered for a moment longer than expected, you felt an unspoken tension building. 
“Gabriella, but you – my dear – can call me Gabbie.” Her voice sang in the foyer, bouncing so wonderfully off the walls. You wanted nothing more than to leave. Their hands were still intertwined. 
Instinctively, you began to withdraw your hand from his left, realising that you were caught in an awkward silence. Gabriella's grip on Max's hand tightened imperceptibly, and you hesitated for a split second, torn between asserting yourself and avoiding a confrontation. Finally, you reluctantly released Max's hand, a subtle concession that felt like surrender.
However, your parents made their grand entrance, drawn by the commotion in the foyer.
Gabriella finally let go of Max. She stepped back, allowing a brief respite from the charged exchange. 
Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, approached with a warm smile. "Oh, there you all are! We were starting to wonder when you'd make it to the heart of the festivities."
As she spoke, her eyes lingered on Gabriella and Max, a subtle but knowing gleam in her eyes. It was as if she sensed the unspoken currents beneath the surface. Your father, a more reserved figure, stood beside her, observing the scene with a discerning gaze.
"Mom, Dad, this is Max," you introduced, trying to steer the conversation away from the palpable tension that lingered.
With an air of practised nonchalance, Gabriella returned her attention to Max, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well, Max, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she purred, her words leaving an ambiguous trail of intentions.
She tried to grasp his hand once again, but instead, he started helping you out of your coat to keep his hands busy.
Max, still wanting to leave a good impression, responded with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Gabriella. Your sister here has spoken highly of you too," he said, casting a glance in your direction, before he extended a polite hand toward your parents, exchanging pleasantries as he tried to steer the conversation towards the two newcomers in the foyer. 
Gabriella subtly positioned herself beside him, a silent claim reaffirmed. The atmosphere remained charged, your parents seemingly ignorant of the intricate dynamics playing out before them. The dreadful feeling returned to you as your mom made eye contact with you once more. You averted your eyes.
Gabriella, seizing the opportunity, looped her arm through Max's, as if marking her territory. "Max, let me give you a tour of this magnificent place. There are so many things you haven't seen yet," she exclaimed, her tone holding a mixture of innocence and mischief.
Your heart sank as you watched them disappear into the lavish corridors of your family home.
“Let them go, honey. I’m sure he will be quite interested in our family’s history.” Your mother commented, foregoing the formality of any other type of recognition or greeting to you as she and your dad disappeared after Gabriella and Max.
Leaving you on your own in the opulent foyer, you wished to leave once more.
Determined to regain some semblance of composure, you wandered into the adjacent parlour, a room adorned with plush furniture and rich tapestries. The soft glow of antique lamps cast a warm ambience, but even the comforting setting couldn't dispel the growing unease. You settled into a chair, the plush upholstery offering little solace for the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. The room seemed to close in on you as you anxiously waited for Max and Gabriella to return. The dreadful feeling intensified with every passing moment, and your mind raced with unsettling thoughts.
Finally, the door swung open, and they entered the parlour. Gabriella's laughter echoed through the room. Max wore a polite smile, seemingly having enjoyed the tour, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriella was orchestrating an elaborate performance.
"This place is quite… something," Max said, casting a glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance or acknowledgement. You tried to smile at him. Gabriella, however, continued to dominate the spotlight.
"We have quite the family history," she replied with a sly smile, her eyes flickering between Max and you. "It's a shame you won't be able to hear all the juicy details."
You forced another smile in response, but the unease gnawed at you. As they settled into the room, Gabriella strategically took the seat next to Max, her gestures and expressions aimed at enchanting him right before your eyes.
The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a dance of words that excluded you from its rhythm. You felt like a mere observer in your own home, watching as Gabriella captivated Max with tales of the family's past, her laughter ringing like an enchanting melody.
Your attempts to engage in the conversation were met with fleeting glances as if your presence were an afterthought. Gabriella was ever so quick to recapture Max’s attention, despite your valiant efforts to seek a way into the discussion.
Desperate for a reprieve, you finally excused yourself under the pretence of attending to something in the kitchen. As you escaped the room, the weight of the evening bore down on you, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this family gathering had become a stage for a performance in which you had no choice but to play a reluctant supporting role.
In the kitchen, you busied yourself with trivial tasks, the rhythmic clinking of dishes providing a brief respite from the orchestrated drama in the parlour. The tension that had followed you from the foyer to the parlour lingered like an unwelcome guest, and you desperately sought a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.
As you absentmindedly stacked plates from the dishwasher, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing expression. It was as if she could sense the turbulence beneath the composed facade you were desperately trying to maintain.
"Oh, dear, are you alright?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of concern.
You forced a smile, attempting to deflect the obvious discomfort. "I'm fine, just needed a moment away from the chatter in there."
Your mother's eyes softened, but there was a glint of curiosity. "Well, I must say, Gabriella and Max make quite the pair. They look so good together, don't you think?"
The question hung in the air, a subtle prod at the heart of the matter. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you processed the implications of your mother's words. It was a commentary that cut through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.
"Oh, Mom, they're just chatting. It doesn't mean anything," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.
Your mother, however, seemed undeterred. "I don't know, dear. They do seem to have a certain chemistry, don't you think? They'd make a handsome couple."
The weight of her words settled on you like an anvil, and you struggled to find a suitable response. The kitchen, for a brief moment, had been a sanctuary, but now felt like a confessional where you were forced to confront the complexities of your feelings.
"I...I don't know, Mom. It's just an introduction," you stammered, your attempts to maintain composure faltering.
Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then she sighed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, sometimes we find unexpected connections in the most peculiar places. And if they happen to find something special tonight, well, we should be happy for them, shouldn't we?"
You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness.
“It’s such a shame his looks just aren’t quite there, but he certainly has other features to make up for it. Wouldn’t you say so as well? Yes, a shame, but Gabriella has always been so kind-hearted. I’m sure she doesn’t mind either.” Your mother continued, before finally smiling at you. 
Her message was loud and clear, as she had expressed her approval of Max as a suitable match for Gabriella. 
Your mother wanted you to break up with Max and hand him over.
It was as though Max was a commodity to be exchanged, a possession for your sister to play with until she grew tired and moved on. It made you feel sick to the stomach. 
“Dinner is all ready, your father just put down the roast on the table.”
You followed your mother into the dining room, the scent of the roast filling the air. The grand table, adorned with fine china and polished silverware, became the stage for the next act in this familial drama.
As you took your seat, Max seated next to you, your parents strategically positioned Gabriella opposite Max. The tension in the room was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that every word and gesture would be scrutinised.
"So, Max," your mother began, her eyes flickering between Max and Gabriella, "how did you find our home? Quite exquisite, isn't it?"
Max, thankfully pr-trained, nodded appreciatively. "It's a stunning place with so much history."
Gabriella's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and you braced yourself for what would come next. Your mother, however, wasn't finished.
"And speaking of history," she continued, casting a pointed look at Gabriella, "our family has quite a rich one. Gabriella, why don't you share some of the highlights? Max might find it fascinating."
“It’s alright, I think I heard enough earlier,” Max told your mom, “I would much rather hear childhood stories about her.” He turned his head, making himself able to look into your eyes, and you felt the dread spread. Despite the way he looked at you, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing your parents would not deliver what Max was expecting to be told about.
Max's genuine interest in hearing about your childhood seemed to momentarily disrupt the carefully choreographed performance. Your mother, however, skilfully manoeuvred to maintain the narrative she had meticulously constructed.
"Oh, Max, you're sweet," your mother said, offering a polite smile, "but Gabriella's achievements are the true highlights. She's always been the shining star of our family."
Your sister, seizing the opportunity, began to regale Max with tales of her academic triumphs, artistic pursuits, and social accomplishments. As she spoke, you felt the distance between you and Max widen, a chasm fuelled by your parents' insistence on casting Gabriella as the focal point of the conversation.
Max, sensing the discomfort, tried to redirect the conversation toward a more inclusive narrative. "I'm sure there are some other stories you could tell, perhaps some that aren’t about Gabriell-?"
“Please Max, do call me Gabby.” Gabriella interrupted Max.
Your mother exchanged a knowing glance with your father before responding, "Oh, there are plenty of stories, but I think Gabriella's achievements are what make our family truly special. Don't you agree, Max?"
Max hesitated for a moment, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. However, not wanting to create a scene, he nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, I guess Gabriella is quite accomplished."
Gabriella shot you a coy smile, her triumph was evident in the subtle control she exerted over the narrative. As the conversation continued to revolve around her, Max's attempts to steer it in a different direction seemed to hit an invisible wall.
Your parents, seemingly oblivious to Max's growing discomfort, continued to extol Gabriella's virtues. The room buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the murmur of praise, all while you sat there, a silent observer of your own family dinner.
As dessert was served, Max couldn't hide the subtle tenseness in his shoulders. He glanced at you, a mix of empathy and frustration in his eyes. Despite the challenging circumstances, you appreciated his efforts to bridge the gap.
When Max tried to ask about your childhood again, your mother skilfully redirected the conversation. "Oh, Max, we can talk about that another time. Let's focus on the present moment and enjoy the evening."
Your sister, seizing every opportunity to keep the spotlight, interjected, "You know, Max, I've always been curious about your interests and aspirations. Tell us more about yourself."
The shift in attention to Max was noticeable, but it wasn't the genuine interest he had hoped for. Instead, it felt like another tactic to steer the conversation away from you. Max, his patience waning, briefly shared short anecdotes about his work, nothing he hadn’t already told to the media. However, his eyes kept returning to you, his fingers intertwined with you. As though you were oblivious to the way your sister's feet – under the table – were trying to urge Max to look at her. 
The night wore on, and Max's frustration continued to build, a silent storm brewing within him. The genuine smile he had worn upon arrival had now transformed into a tight-lipped expression, betraying his growing discontent.
Your dad had taken it upon himself to serve a glass of whiskey to him and Max, while your mother brought forth an array of finger foods and other light and savoury snacks. Your family settled around the nice fireplace in the big sitting room, it’s even more extravagant and opulent than the smaller parlour room you had tried to take refuge in earlier in the day. 
When your sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Max, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "You know, Max, we're so thrilled to have you here. It's not often we get such distinguished company." 
Max, no longer willing to play along, shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. "Thank you for having me. It's been... quite an experience," he replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.
Your father, still under the illusion that the evening had gone splendidly, raised his glass. "A toast! To family and new beginnings."
Max's frustration reached its peak as his eyes locked on your dad’s raised glass. Max abruptly stood up, the sound of him slamming his glass down echoing in the sudden silence. The tension in the room was palpable as he looked directly at your parents.
"I appreciate your hospitality, but I can't ignore the blatant disregard for your own daughter," he said, his voice measured but firm. "I came here hoping to learn more about her, but it seems the spotlight is reserved for someone else."
Gabriella's eyes widened in feigned innocence, a practised mask that Max wasn't buying. Your parents exchanged uneasy glances, finally sensing the budding cracks in their carefully constructed facade.
"I won't be a part of a charade that dismisses her existence," Max continued, his frustration now laid bare. "If you can't appreciate the amazing person she is, then I want no part in this. Goodnight."
Without waiting for a response, Max pulled you from the couch. As you both retreated from the sitting room, leaving behind the echoes of tension and shattered illusions, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow.
Max led you through the ornate hallways of your family home, the grandeur of the surroundings now feeling suffocating. The air outside was cool and crisp as you stepped onto the front porch, the distant sounds of the night providing a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.
He turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to be like this."
You managed a small smile, appreciating his genuine intentions. "It's not your fault. Thank you for trying."
Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your family... it's not what I expected."
You nodded, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "It's never been easy."
"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you deserve better than this," Max said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, no matter what."
As Max navigated the darkened streets, a palpable tension and heavy silence filled the car ride home between you and him. The glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his determined expression, the lines of worry etched into his brow.
You sat beside him, lost in your thoughts, the events of the evening replaying in your mind like a broken record. The weight of the strained interactions with your family weighed heavily on your shoulders, a burden you couldn't shake.
Max glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped the car.
You sighed, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I don't know, Max. Tonight was… a lot. I’m sorry for Gabriella."
“They shouldn’t have said any of that.” Max ignored your comment, “that’s not- even I know that’s now how you treat family.”
“I’m sorry for Gabriella.” You tried to tell him once again, instead finding his hand reaching out to tangle it into yours. 
As Max's hand intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through your fingertips, grounding you in the present moment. His touch was a lifeline, offering solace amidst the turmoil that had consumed your family gathering. You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating the silent support he offered.
Max pulled the car over, letting him turn to you and gaze into your eyes.
"I know you're sorry, love," Max whispered, his voice laced with understanding. "But you can't take responsibility for someone else's idiotic words. Gabriella's actions were uncalled for, and it's not your parents should have stopped it, not… Encouraged it."
His words resonated deep within you, reminding you that you were not solely accountable for the strained relationship with your parents. The weight on your shoulders began to lighten as if Max's presence alone could alleviate the burden.
You turned to him, finally meeting his concerned gaze. "Thank you, Max. Your support means the world to me."
He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, alright?"
A surge of gratitude washed over you, grateful for the unwavering love and understanding Max consistently provided. You squeezed his hand once more, as he pulled out of the ditch. 
The car continued to glide through the darkened streets, but the heavy silence had transformed into a comforting embrace of shared vulnerability.
As the glow of streetlights continued to cast fleeting shadows, you realised that it was in the darkest moments that the strength of your relationship with Max shone the brightest. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you knew that together, you could weather any storm or awful family dinner.
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⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, sorry that it took so long to post this one
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superblysubpar · 8 months ago
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return to main menu // Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛
Sincerely, Yours:
bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | my blog and this fic are 18+ Only, NSFW
the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds
words: about 6,600
warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay | mentions of masturbating for comfort/ease before sex | SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done / oral / fingering / steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)
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He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels. 
“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished. 
In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words. 
“Want me to pause it?”
“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”
“I’d love one, thanks!”
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Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all.  He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.
Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too. 
Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel. 
He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again. 
Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time. 
Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together. 
His best friend was really fucking pretty. 
He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours. 
Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.
“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.
Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb. 
He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth. 
“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”
They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing. 
Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned. 
“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”
He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.
You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.
Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”
He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing. 
“No.”
Did you just say that out loud?!
Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward. 
Looks like you did.
“Ste-”
“What? What do you mean no?”
Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees. 
As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”
Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.
“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”
Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”
Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin. 
A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”
The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he  finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.
“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”
It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him. 
“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover  the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”
Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway. 
“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”
He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head. 
“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”
“No, please, I didn’t mean-”
His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour. 
Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.
“Can you please-”
“I’ll grab my keys.”
He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger. 
The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him. 
You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him. 
The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore. 
When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned. 
He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless. 
Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands. 
Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be. 
Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”
“Just take me home, please?”
The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone. 
So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?
He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment. 
It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”
His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you. 
“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started. 
“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink. 
“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”
The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence. 
Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”
Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”
Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.
“And fries. Definitely.”
“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”
“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”
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Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better. 
“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”
He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. 
You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him. 
“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”
He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”
“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it. 
Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”
“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it. 
But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-
“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.” 
He definitely said it out loud that time. 
You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.  
“Ste-”
“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”
“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier. 
“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…” 
Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked. 
“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry. 
“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”
“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”
You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”
Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-
“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”
He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had. 
“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”
Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”
“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”
He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else. 
But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead. 
“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”
“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him. 
And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.
“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”
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To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more. 
The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew. 
Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips. 
But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open. 
“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”
Tried being the definitive word. 
“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”
You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”
It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”
The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours. 
It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch. 
His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”
Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”
Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”
He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”
A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to. 
Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing. 
All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked. 
Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt. 
If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either. 
And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.
In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.
You didn’t mind. 
Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach. 
He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”
“No,” you lied. 
He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”
You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking. 
“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”
Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…
You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington. 
Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again. 
“Honey, what are you doing?”
“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body. 
Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”
“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?” 
And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?
Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat. 
His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”
“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused. 
He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”
And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on. 
His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick. 
When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”
“Brian,” said without hesitation. 
Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”
You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”
Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around. 
“Hey Steve?” 
“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.
“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him. 
“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”
It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his. 
“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.
“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”
This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?
But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.
He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.  
You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him. 
Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.
The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more. 
His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”
“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”
“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”
You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot. 
“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”
He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence. 
Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer. 
Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of. 
“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath. 
You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words. 
“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”
You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later. 
Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you. 
Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork. 
You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”
He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him. 
He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager. 
And that was before you whimpered, before you said:
“Steve, please.”
“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”
His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours. 
Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it. 
He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”
You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s. 
Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”
Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”
There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further. 
Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced.  “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”
You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling. 
He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.” 
And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away. 
*if you liked this fic, the minor follow up is: Risky Business
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maplesyrupsainz · 2 months ago
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˖⁺。˚⋆˙club classics | GR63˖⁺。˚⋆˙
pairing: george russell x singer!reader y/n (she/her)
genre: social media au
warnings: idk anything abt brat lol, addison rae cameo bc i love her, not much else
summary: in which you finally hard launch via song and the fans go wild!!! or in which two very different worlds collide...
a/n: i dnt listen to charli xcx so im srry if this is soo crap but i liked the idea so wanted to try it hope it's ok!!! obsessed w george a bit so expect more of him 👀
request!!!: helloooo could you please write a George smau where he’s dating a singer!reader who is releasing a new album idk if you listen to Charli xcx but on her new album she has a song called club classics where it says ‘I wanna dance with George’ could you write something where they reveal their relationship this way
my masterlist
fc: charli xcx
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by billieeilish, alex_albon, and others
yourusername his prettiest problem
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user1 iktrrrr
user2 HIS???
user3 does she have a bf omg
user4 nooo dont tell me i lost y/n to a man
user5 love y/n & addison friendship
user6 ur so hot y/n
user7 wait why is alex albon in the likes??
user8 wth so random
user9 who??
user10 random formula one driver lol
user11 are they dating?
user12 he has a gf alr💀
addisonraee my hottest solution
yourusername oh, kiss me already 🙆‍♀️
addisonraee you dont have to tell me twice 💋💋
user13 new music please 🙏
user14 y/n we're bored give us a summer banger
liked by yourusername
user15 her liking this.... she's cooking!
georgerussell63 posted a story
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liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, and others
user16 urm??? hello
user17 what
user18 WHO?
user19 u have a gf george?
lewishamilton bring her to a race, georgie
georgerussell63 dont get too ahead 😆
landonorris congrats
landonorris cant wait to see everyone try and figure out who the hell ur girl is
georgerussell63 good luck to them
landonorris you'd be surprised actually
user20 running to twitter
user21 someone is gonna know all about this on twitter ...
twitter ->
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instagram ->
georgerussell63 posted a story
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liked by alex_albon, addisonraee, and others
user26 GEORGE
user27 no more
user28 WHO IS SHEEE
user29 neeeeed answers
landonorris still not met her
georgerussell63 for a reason
user30 this is so cute tbh
user31 oh how i love soft launch pics
yourusername posted a story
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liked by lorde, alexademie, and others
user32 NEW MUSIC????
user33 omg it's happening
user34 this is not a drill!!!!
user35 hurry hurry we're desperate
addisonraee oh you tease!!!
yourusername oh i'll leak it to u bby 😻
addisonraee whoa. im lucky
alexademie hope im your muse
yourusername one of them perhaps 👀
alexademie player!!
user36 leak it
user37 thank god. y/n is here to save music
yourusername
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yourusername i wanna danceee
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user38 oh now this is a soft launch fr...
user39 no way...
user40 NOOO WE LOST HER
user41 MORE F1 DRIVERS IN HER LIKES???
user42 so random!!!
user43 maybe she's gonna go to a race!
user44 get back in the studio 😊😊😊
billieeilish no way, we lost the coolest girl alive to a man
liked by yourusername
user45 HAHAHA
user46 realest shit ever
user47 TWO soft launch pics omg???
user48 someone pls find out who he is.
addisonraee let's dance all niiight
yourusername 🪩🪩🪩
user49 lando liking is he shooting his shot xx
user50 no more posts unless it's an album announcement y/n!!!
liked by yourusername
user51 HER LIKING!!!
user52 bc something is coming 👀
twitter ->
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instagram ->
yourusername posted stories
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liked by georgerussell63, sabrinacarpenter, and others
user53 OH MY GODDDD
user54 omg i can't believe it's true
user55 mercedes omg TASTEEE
user56 so real for this
addisonraee get it girl
liked by yourusername
user57 omg lewis & george r so lucky
user58 my two worlds colliding oh my god
user59 u suit merc sm queen
sabrinacarpenter oh i know why you're there & it isn't for the cars! 👀
yourusername ...no comment
twitter ->
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instagram ->
georgerussell63 posted a story
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liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, and others
user68 y/n is that u?
user69 that is so y/n
user70 OH TO BE Y/N
user71 the twitter detectives have sussed u guys out i fear
landonorris ok george we get it
georgerussell63 the world needs to know my gf is hot as hell
landonorris riiiiight
alex_albon congrats, everyone knows!
georgerussell63 huh?
alex_albon just look online 😂
georgerussell63 oh. shit lol
messages ->
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instagram ->
yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, and others
yourusername ‘club classics’ is yours right now. right now. right now. 🪩
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user72 STOP IT
user73 he can stay if it means we're gonna get new music more often 👀
liked by yourusername, georgerussell63
user74 URMMMM THE LYRICS
user75 waittt GUYS???
user76 wait....i wanna dance with.....WHO???
user77 I WANNA DANCE WITH GEORGE??????
user78 oh she heard hard launch and said BET
addisonraee obsessed with everything you do
yourusername luv u 💋
billieeilish she's done it againnnn
liked by yourusername
sabrinacarpenter in love!!
yourusername mwahh
user79 pop girlies support pop girlies!!!
user80 OH I LOVE YHIS SONGGGG
user81 another bop thank uuu
user82 i cant believe she wanna dance with george
user83 we figured it out but the confirmation is still shocking
user84 unbelievable win for george russell
georgerussell63 keep smashing it, gorgeous
liked by yourusername
user85 AWWW STOP IT
user86 nooo..... No way.... i love them
georgerussell63
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liked by landonorris, yourusername, and others
georgerussell63 i wanna dance with her too
view all comments
user87 OH MY GOD
user88 oh i will never get over this
user89 SHE'S SO GORGEOUS
user90 omg the song is insane dont remind me rn george
user91 my two worlds colliding omg this is nuts
user92 cant tell who i want more loool
user93 obsessed with them so badly
landonorris i wanna dance!
yourusername COME PARTY W US LANDO!!!
georgerussell63 no dont invite him he always takes it too far
yourusername be fr. thts my kind of party
landonorris WOOHOOOO
user94 omg lando y/n friendship
user95 LOVE THISSSS SM
yourusername i love u in a serious way.
georgerussell63 i love you! never change
THE END 💙
930 notes · View notes
oh-obrien · 1 month ago
Text
GRID ACE 0.2
GAMER READER X Lestappen SMAU
Summary: Reader is a Red Bull e-sports athlete who happens to catch the attention of two particular drivers with her streams
PART TWO BABY WOOT WOOT. I've never seen anyone really mix twitch streams into these so let us see how I did!
And my requests for these are open!!
All pictures are from Pinterest!!!
Reader has various face claims!
Masterlist / Previous Part / Next Part
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Xx.y/n.xX just posted
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tagged @ maxverstappen1 @ charles_leclerc
Liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, and 9,678 others
Xx.y/n.xX another race weekend or something like that
-> yourbestfriend she’s oh so casual about it too
-> Xx.y/n.xX they had good lattes I’ll keep going
-> Redbullgaming I'm sure there were plenty of Red Bulls also 😉
-> Xx.y/n.xX admin is going to lock me in a cage if I say espresso and coffee are actually my choice of caffeine intake.
-> Maxverstappen1 She took a sip of mine, I feel like that has to count
-> Xx.y/n.xX he did share his cooties with me so I could steal a sip
-> Landonorris with the way she behaved she needed to be locked in a cage
-> Xx.y/n.xX you're uninvited from game night. @ Danielricciardo there's a spot open now!
-> Danielricciardo I'LL BE THERE
User1 Is no one going to comment on the nails
-> Xx.y/n.xX they played rock, paper, scissors to decide what merch I wore and what nails I did.
-> Danielricciardo who won
-> Xx.y/n.xX me when I broke up the fight after cheating allegations got thrown around.
-> Maxverstappen1 @ danielricciardo I won.
-> Charles_leclerc no.
-> Xx.y/n.xX he actually did Charles...
-> Maxverstappen1 officially the favorite
-> Xx.y/n.xX OKAY I didn't say THAT
Redbullgaming those nails look like those of a traitor
-> Xx.y/n.xX I'm sorry admin but you can't get rid of me I carry too hard 🫡
-> User3 there hasn't been a stream in a few days I miss watching my queen carry daily
-> Xx.y/n.xX keep your eyes pealed 🍌
-> Redbullgaming 👀
User4 so is this a soft launch, or a hard launch, or a best friends launch?
-> User5 THATS WHAT I WANT TO KNOW TOO
-> User6 like no word from ANYONE on any of this
-> User7 I mean it could be contract related with RB Racing and RB Gaming but then why would they also be constantly hanging out with Charles? It seems like other drivers also now too.
-> User4 EXACTLY if it was just y/n and Max I’d be like oh RB is looking for some cross promotion to grow fan bases but 🫣
Scuderiaferrari please never wear Red Bull merch in our garage again
-> Xx.y/n.xX @ Charles_leclerc your admin is threatening me
-> Charles_leclerc It isn’t a threat you just look better in red
-> Maxverstappen1 wrong.
-> Xx.y/n.xX he's kinda right actually
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Landonorris just posted
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Tagged @ Xx.y/n.xX, @ maxverstappen1, @ charles_leclerc
Landonorris Come watch me and y/n destroy Charles and Max in a custom match before we play some unranked.
User8 Lando finally gets to stream with y/n!!!
-> User9 this group keeps growing like weeds
-> User8 it’s actually really cool to get to watch the boys stream with a girl who’s just good at what she does?
Yourteammate1 so this is why she wouldn’t get on with us??? Traitor @ Xx.y/n.xX
-> Xx.y/n.xX bite me 😘
Liked by @ maxverstappen1 @ charles_leclerc
-> Yourteammate2 you probably taste bitter anyways
User10 Y/N collecting F1 drivers like they’re valo agents
-> Xx.y/n.xX I’ve still got some to unlock!!! (I want to unlock Carlos next he seems cool!)
-> Danielricciardo rude
-> Xx.y/n.xX oh I already unlocked you, learn how to play valo then we'll talk old man.
User12 I NEED to know who everyone mains!
-> Xx.y/n.xX tune into the twitch stream to find out 👀
Redbullgaming we're always looking for new talent to join the ranks
-> Xx.y/n.xX sorry admin he vroom vrooms for the orange team
-> User13 she calls McLaren the orange team she's so unserious
-> Landonorris @ Xx.y/n.xX we're actually Papaya
-> Xx.y/n.xX semantics
-> Landonorris I'm dyslexic
-> Xx.y/n.xX so am I and I know what that means...
Charles_leclerc come watch me and @ maxverstappen1 carry!
-> Xx.y/n.xX carry the bottom of the scoreboard maybe
-> Maxverstappen1 if you're this mean all the time you're never staying with me again
-> Xx.y/n.xX your cats like me too much, I am one of them
-> Charles_leclerc she did blend in with them rather well napping in the sun.
Liked by @ maxverstappen1
User13 SHE STAYED WITH MAX IN MONACO???
-> User14 DETAILS 👏
-> User15 y/n is totally going to spill the beans on her stream
-> Xx.y/n.xX or will I?
-> User14 PLEASE, she strikes again.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
Xx.y/n.xX is live on Twitch!
Y/N: I beg of you, I am on my knees BEGGING you both, please don’t embarrass me this time.
Lando: You know they’re going to.
Max: I take that very personally.
Y/N: And I take you going 4 and 20 last game very personally.
Charles: How do I put out my teleport again?
Lando: Remind me why we let him play Chamber?
Y/N: He’s French, Char insisted I’m afraid. It’s E Charles, you press E. Okay Max and what does Omen’s blind do?
Max: It blinds teammates too.
Y/N: Lando stop laughing!
Lando: I'm sorry! It's too good!
Y/N: You are not sorry and we both know it.
Yourbestfriend: I’m just here for a good time not a long time.
Y/N: No you are in this game for the long haul! I’m going to take the spike and push on to A and if I’m not drinking by the end of this half or if more than two of us make it to the end of the round god has performed miracles.
Lando: I’ll flank!
Charles: Can I go with Lando?
Y/N: Sure, ba- Char.
Max: I’ll go with the girls!
Yourbestfriend: Roadtrip to A site!
Y/N: I’m going to go get the alcohol shortly I can feel it.
Max: I fell off the side.
Y/N: Im definitely going to get the alcohol now.
Lando: New drinking game, take a shot every time Max falls off abyss.
Y/N: I like being tipsy not dead, thank you very much.
︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪
Y/N: Someone in chat has asked what I am doing in Monaco and where I am staying.
Lando: Creepyyyyyyyy
Max: Judging by the cat in her lap I would assume she's staying with someone with cats
Y/N: Judging by the two men in the background of my stream I am staying with Max and Charles is over.
Yourbestfriend: and she didn't invite me, rude
Y/N: Someone needed to watch my cat, thank you very much
Max: I want to try another character.
Lando: No.
Y/N: No.
Charles: Can I try someone new?
Lando: Try sitting in spawn this game Charles
Y/N: Here
Max: For those unaware Y/N has now gone to look at characters with Charles
Charles: Oh she's cool!
Y/N (through Charles' mic): I play her or her if I don't play Neon.
Charles: First one!
Lando: For those with no eyes Charles has now locked in Fade and he is in his goth girl era after not being able to get more podiums yet this season.
Y/N: Be nice or you're not coming out to brunch tomorrow!
Lando: Is no one going to comment on that
Max: I’m definitely not
Yourbestfriend: She’s always like that I’m not surprised
Y/N: Don't test me Norris
Charles: I really wouldn't
Max: Yeah please don't
︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪
Y/N: Max please stop staring at the ground you literally play video games somewhat professionally. And I know, it’s not this game but for the love of god LOOK the fuck UP!
Max: You’re dead stop talking
Y/N: I’m dead because you blinded me as I was pushing on to site and I ran straight into like three of them!
Charles: You’re still dead!
Lando: SO ARE YOU! Max why are you shooting at their fucking feet?
Max: Fuck, I died.
Y/N: YOU DIED BECAUSE YOU’RE SHOOTING AT THEIR FEET! Okay, new round, we can do this.
Lando: Y/N is no longer using her inside voice, it has now gotten serious.
Charles: What gun do I buy?
Lando: Nothing you’re going 2 and 10
Y/N: You can’t buy what you need. Here, I’m not buying this round.
Charles: It’s pink! This is the cat one!
Max: Can I have a cat one?
Y/N: No we’re both poor. I’m poor because I bought Char you’re poor because you’re bad.
Lando: They’re going to think he’s your pocket Sage with that skin.
Y/N: They both might as well be. I’m gonna ult.
Max: You’re gonna what?
Charles: Pocket what?
Lando: She’s going to run around and electrocute the other team.
Max: Oh that one!
Yourbestfriend: It's like she's your sugar daddy but the girl version and with kills not money.
Lando: A Valo sugar mommy.
Y/N: One, I'm going to scream soon, two.
Charles: oh she’s good at this.
Lando: You’re just bad mate, and it's her job.
Y/N: three, shut up this is literally my job, four.
Lando: See! It's her job!
Y/N: LET ME ACE PLEASE MAX YOU ARE SHOOTING THEIR FEET AGAIN AND- FUCK
Max: I GOT ONE!
Yourbestfriend: HE GOT ONE!
Y/N: Yes, yes you did an amazing job.
Lando: I’d like to announce to the world that Max is officially going, drumroll please, 3 and 11!
Y/N: Would you like to share our KDA’s Mr. Norris?
Lando: Why of course Y/N! While Max and Charles have a collective five kills our lovely top frag is going 28 and 3 while I am going 15 and 5.
Yourbestfriend: I’m going even!
Lando: ahh yes our middle frag who still has more kills than Max and Charles combined!
Charles: I’m getting better!
Y/N: sure Char.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
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User16 NO BECAUSE SHE COVERED IT UP SO FAST
User17 I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO CAUGHT IT
-> User18 NO! I totally caught it also
-> User17 and then she called him Char?
->User18 NICKNMAE BASIS ALREADY
User19 I wanted to talk about her staying at Max's while she's in Monaco!
-> User20 Or whose WAG she wants to be
-> User16 If you watch Y/N's streams she doesn't need to be anyone's WAG
-> User20 All I'm saying is it's suspicious that she had been to two GP's and is taking a little trip to Monaco and they haven't seemed to be friends that long
->User21 just because they only recently started streaming together and just because Y/N only just went to her first GP's doesn't mean they haven't been friends behind the scenes
User22 Max was in her liked starting almost a year ago
-> Xx.y/n.xX the devil works hard but fangirls work harder!!!
-> User16 OH MY GOD
-> Xx.y/n.xX I'm everywhere, no one seems to remember that!
474 notes · View notes
mariasont · 5 months ago
Text
Training Day - A.H
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a/n: you all wanted more bimbo!assistant!reader and i'm a woman of the people so here we are
on a real note i love her and she is my queen
masterlist
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pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader
summary: you don't understand why hotch is giving you training lessons, but apparently he thinks you need it
warnings: talking about men following her in public YUCK, hotch trying to train reader, reader not knowing what's going on, cuties being cute
wc: 0.8k
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"I still don't really know why we're doing this."
You were grumbling more than was characteristic for you, with every part of your body, your arms, your legs, and even your ass, suffering from a dull ache--sadly, not the result of any enjoyable pastime. After being knocked over more times than you cared to count, Hotch extended his hand toward you. You gladly took it, letting him pull you to your feet.
Your fingers deftly pulled at your pink tracksuit top over the sliver of abdomen that that had been revealed in your less-than-graceful take down. Hotch had pointed out the impracticality of your outfit when you showed up, but you stood firm on the principle that if early training sessions were expected of you, then your attire would be non-negotiable.
"Because I want to be confident in your abilities to defend yourself." His arms folded over his chest as his gaze bore into you, challenging you to contradict him.
"I'm just here to look pretty and answer your phones, crime-fighting isn't in my job description. That's your thing, Mr."
You shuffled back to your original position anyway, hands coming up to shield your face as you mentally sorted through the steps, or at least tried to, struggling to recall the correct foot placement.
"Shoulder width apart."
It's like he could read your mind. You were not entirely convinced that he couldn't.
"Crime-fighting doesn't have to be your thing," Hotch stated, narrowing the gap between you, his hands firmly correcting your stance. You sometimes found an excuse to stand just so, hoping he would step in to manhandle you into place. "But being part of the BAU, even peripherally, means you're not immune to risks. I need to know you can handle yourself... for my piece of mind."
"Sir, is this like, your super-secret way of showing you care?"
Your lips twisted into a half-smile as his hands clasped your waist a little tighter than necessary: a warning that said you were playing with fire. His fingers then moved to direct yours, positioning them closer to your face, his knuckles lightly grazing across your cheek in the process.
"Eyes on me, stay focused."
"My eyes are always on you, sir," you say, your head canting to one side. 
He released a controlled breath, giving you a level look that signaling you were pushing it. Nevertheless, you flashed him a beaming smile and initiated the move he had been drilling into you. The tip of your elbow made contact with the soft of his stomach.
He issued a muted groan as he intercepted your arm, preventing it from digging further, and in a fluid motion he spun you around, pinning your backside to his front.
"That was perfect, right?" you squealed, your fist shooting up in victory.
The sudden jump caused his hands to shift from your arm, finding a new perch on your hips to steady your... enthusiastic bounce.
You whirled in his grasp, the proximity sending a faint hum through his chest. Clearing his throat, he managed. "Yes, uh, that was it."
Clutching his shirt, the fabric crumpled beneath your purple-tipped fingers, you giggled. "Just imagine someone trying to follow me to my car now. They wouldn't know what hit 'em!"
"Is that a common occurrence?" The lines of his face gathered into that customary look of concern, that characteristic frown of his making an appearance.
He gently disentangled your hands from his shirt, not letting go, but rather laying his atop of yours.
"Well, sometimes, but I usually just call Morgan, put him on speaker, and he starts talking about the FBI stuff," you explained, giving a light shrug that nudged the zipper of your jacket down just a smidge. "They take off after that."
He clenched his eyes shut, pausing momentarily before reopening it. One hand let go of yours to adjust the zipper back to its proper position.
"That makes my stomach hurt." And it did. "Don't hesitate to call me when that happens. I'll come get you."
Your smile stretched ear to ear, potent enough to make him feel lightheaded. "You know, with all these trainings, who needs to call for help?"
"How about we compromise, and you still call me, regardless?"
You pout your lips, shiny with clear gloss rather than your usual pink. "That sounds less like a compromise and more like a you thing, ya know?"
Hotch's laughter rumbled from his chest, a warm, breathy sound, as he let go of your hands, which he realized he had been holding far longer than appropriate, and guided you to the door.
"You don't appreciate the added precautions I'm willing to take for your safety?"
Dragging your sneaker on the floor, you plucked your bag from the wall as Hotch closed the door behind you. "Gee, when you say it like that..."
When you walked down the hall you seemed to be perfectly in step.
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taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @sarcasm-and-stiles
join my taglist here
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swe3tte4rs · 10 months ago
Note
Batifamily headcanons feeling jealous about their siblings spending more time with Batmom? Or something like that, however you like to write it 🙊
" Jealousy jealousy " - Batmom!Reader x Batkids
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Author's note: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR (late)!!! Love this 🫶. And I feel like this request is VERY my AU!!! Dah, who wouldn't compete for the love of their sweet and loving mother!? (The hatred between them began when Bruce had to set schedules for each one so they wouldn't fight for Batmom's attention... joke)
Also I am very sad, because when I was responding to this kind of request and I saved it as a draft, it was deleted 😭!!! CRYING 💔💔!!! On top of that, I loved the request, it was beautiful 😭! It was about Batmom as Bruce's couple and Bruce introduces Batmom to the batkids... And if it was you who sent it 🫵, let me tell you that I loved it and it will take me a while to upload it 💓!! Lov you all
And (I almost forgot to mention this), This AU of the batfamily is a mix of comics, series, headcanons (I LOVE headcanons of batfamily 💗), video games, movies and webtoon! + My main language is not English, so if you find any spelling mistakes, tell me in a comment!
Request opens 💗💗!!! BUT, before you request anything check my rules.
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Dick Grayson / Nightwing
Honestly, I don't see him being jealous of his brothers at all! But since I haven't read all of his comics and in this AU he is a mix, I don't have an opinion. 👀
Let us begin.
I feel like Dick is a real mama's boy, he love his mom and he will prove it.
Dick is very used to having all of Batmom's attention to himself.
But he hides his jealousy very well, or so he thinks…
Jealousy began when Dick started having siblings. DON'T DENY ME GIRL 🤝🤝!!!
When he gets jealous that you spend more time with, I don't know, he'll go to sleep with you and Bruce, but leaving Bruce aside and enjoying your caresses in his hair while he listens to his siblings complain from outside the bedroom. (Bruce hate this, but I feel that at the same time he love it just a little bit. Very little.)
Possibly he will also rub things you did with him that you didn't do with your other children in his siblings' faces.
I think he is the only one (along with Jason) who has a complete album with photos of him as a child. So he'll show it off to others by saying that you loved him so much that you made an entire photo album of him.
He would do the same with Jason, telling him that his album has more photos and with more photos of you and Dick.
I feel like he would start a whole fight against one of his brothers just to carry all the shopping bags by himself so you don't do it. (This idea is similar to "Jason Todd is a total mama's boy" because I was inspired by it, so credit to its respective author 💓)
"Mommy, did you just call me Damian? Oh my god... my heart..." #atotaldramaqueenbaby💋💋👊👊
Jason Todd / Red Hood
Another drama queen...
A mama's boy from head to toe. (My poor baby just needed a fucking mother figure 😭💔)
He is first in everything. Do you need help opening a jar? He already opened it for you and said I love you and then left and returned to a mission.
But that's not what we're talking about right now... Nonono, we're talking about jealousy, guys...
I bet he's the most sensitive of all.
He makes sure you don't show favoritism to anyone, unless it's him, if so he lets it go.
Did you spend an extra minute with one of your other children because you didn't see the time? He is already burning in a pit of jealousy.
I feel like he would start fighting with his sibling and then he would apply the law of silence to you. But it doesn't last long because he can't resist your cute nicknames and your "you're my favorite" (you say that to each of your babies)
"Why do you call him "son"? He isn't even your son!" And he gives you a whole long speech when you were just trying to be nice to Roy.
He even gets jealous of Bruce.
He doesn't care if it's one of his sisters or a good friend of his, you can't call them cute nicknames! And even less if they are the ones you use with him!
He has good hearing, he makes sure that you call him by his nicknames and not by one of his siblings' nicknames.
"WHAT THE FUCK, MA?! Why are you washing Tim's hair with the shampoo you use with me!?!?" You broke him...
Tim Drake / Red Robin
( I haven't read almost anything by Tim, so forgive me if something doesn't add up, but I promise you that I already have more or less what his personality is like.)
Tim does not admit his jealousy, he is calmer compared to his brothers.
He might start scheduling his patrols to coincide with Batmom’s free time, ensuring that he gets to spend some time with her.
I feel like he would feel more insecurity than jealousy
But I also think he would try to take Batmom's attention away from his sibling by calling Batmom to help him do something he can easily do alone.
He wouldn't care if you treated his friends like your children. I think he would be happy.
Umh Well… I think there's not much to jealousy about this one...
Damian Wayne / Robin
Yes, I headcanon that Damian is one of the most jealous once he realizes that Batmom can give him the love that Talia didn't give him.
He is the same as Jason, he has the same percentage of jealousy.
The only thing is that he would start making arguments about why Batmom would have to spend the whole week with him and not with her brothers.
Oh, and he doesn't care what Bruce does with Batmom. Although he is disgusted by the slightest affection they have.
At galas, I feel like he would be glued to you, hugging your waist and making sure there is no threat.
If you're not patrolling, he'd be with you watching some movie. (I DON'T KNOW WHY I IMAGINED HIM WATCHING MEAN GIRLS)
"I say mom Is going to go with me first because I'm the best-" And then he was interrupted by his siblings.
There is a relationship of hate and equality between him and Jason…
"Don't you see that my mother has an engagement ring and I'm next to her, son of a- *you interrupt him*" I feel like he would say this to anyone who flirts with you.
He is not understanding why his siblings get to spend more time with her.
Mama's boy
I would continue writing, but I have no more inspiration and ideas, sorry...
Cassandra Cain / Orphan
WHY DID SHE PUT THAT NAME BRO???
Cassandra, being the quiet and observant one, might internalize her feelings of jealousy.
Cass is the last one to get jealous, honestly.
She understands that Batmom loves them all equally and there is no favoritism.
Although sometimes she doubts…
She would feel excluded every time she sees you spend more time with one of her siblings.
But putting that behind, she would know that you love them all equally and would let it go by speaking with you how she feels.
0,1% jealous.
Stephanie Brown / Spoiler
Depends…
I think she would feel jealous if Batmom shows favoritism towards others.
In itself, I don't think Steph is VERY jealous. Just... a little bit.
Duke Thomas / The Signal
I need to read more about this man 😭
He's the newest one in the batfam, but he was still able to connect with Batmom very well.
Duke is not one to be jealous, he just doesn't care what batmom does.
Although he is a similar case to Cass.
He would feel a little "insecure" seeing the ties Batmom has with his siblings.
But it always ends well with Batmom watching a movie with him.
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[You can put more headcanons in a comment if you like!! And suggestions are always welcome <3]
1K notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 8 months ago
Text
it's got to be time travel | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem footballer!reader
face claim: jessie fleming (i'm a chelsea fan and i'm sad she left :()
they've got all the time in the world for each other, don't ask them where they got that time from though
note: we're also gonna pretend that the women's football and f1 seasons line up here lol
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS
charles_leclerc
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liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,203,784 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: last sunday lunch before we both have to go back to work :(
view all comments
user1: ffs why do their ACTUAL jobs have to get in the way of my regularly scheduled charles x y/n content???
user2: i personally think that the fia should just give charles the championship and y/n the WSL title so they can just chill together :)
maxverstappen1: not on my watch
charles_leclerc: you don't even follow me? get out of my comments
maxverstappen1: you can't just get given the championship because you have attachment issues WE ALL HAVE ATTACHMENT ISSUES
charles_leclerc: me i get, but y/n doesn't deserve to win?
maxverstappen1: i never said that. y/n is girlboss slay queen
yourusername: too right i am
charles_leclerc: why are you peace and love with her and not me?
maxverstappen1: she's cool, you aren't
yourusername: can't disagree with that babe soz
user3: i have a feeling that these spats might get worse the longer charles is separated from y/n
user4: waa waa we're all sad their being separated but all i'm thinking is UP THE CHELS
user5: i need the treble right fucking now, a charles championship would be a bonus i guess
lewishamilton: will i get a formal introduction to y/n before we're teammates?
yourusername: YES, YES YOU WILL
charles_leclerc: i guess that answers that
lewishamilton: don't hate the player, hate the game
yourusername: i better see your ass at kingsmeadow at some point, it's fun, even if others think they're too good for it
lewishamilton: i'll be there 🫡
user7: can 2025 come quick.... PLEASE
user8: lol does this mean that charles has offered to take carlos to a game but he didn't go?
user9: ugh what a bore
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,402,667 others
tagged: chelseafcw
yourusername: excited for the new season back with the girlypops :))))))
view all comments
user10: treble or nothing I BEG
user11: it's their year for the champions league i've seen the script
alexalbon: no seatbelt ? way to set dangerous examples to your young audience
yourusername: if you're not careful i'm gonna teach my audience how to put their foot up the ass of those annoying her
alexalbon: ugh i hope you lose :P
yourusername: i don't have to hope, i know your ass ain't gonna be in q3
alexalbon: that's TOO far @charles_leclerc does our years of friendship mean nothing?
charles_leclerc: sorry buddy, i am y/n stan first, human being second
yourusername: as he should.
user12: so like... will we see charles in a y/n jersey again in the paddock?
user13: @ferrari stop being so annoying and let him wear what he wants
user14: i think i tasted paradise when they actually let him wear a y/n canada jersey in montreal
charles_leclerc: never seen someone make blue look so good
maxverstappen1: i'm right here?
sebastianvettel: did the homoeroticism of our challenge videos mean nothing?
danielricciardo: do not lie to yourself
yourusername: sorry sluts, you wish you looked this good
charles_leclerc: they'll never be you 🫶🏻
user15: i know the cfcw admin and pr department have a heart attack every time y/n posts
user16: the way she's out here calling three f1 drivers sluts with no repercussions
yourusername: can't be told off for telling the TRUTH
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f1
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liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,205,489 others
tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername
f1: couple goals! charles leclerc takes pole in bahrain while his girlfriend, y/n y/ln, scored the winner for chelsea women!
view all comments
user19: okay but i've never been in a relationship and am currently rotting on my couch... so who is the real winner here x
yourusername: my handsome boy is so talented :3
charles_leclerc: not as talented as you, pretty girl
yourusername: nuh uh at least my team is competent
charles_leclerc: errrrr
samkerr20: i think you broke him lol
yourusername: sometimes i think he's more loyal to ferrari than me
charles_leclerc: no!
scuderiaferrari: huh?
charles_leclerc: wait...
yourusername: i see :(
charles_leclerc: i'm LOGGING OUT
user20: charles is so lover boy stuck in his tortured poets department (ferrari formula one team)
user21: the way he's probably yelling down the phone to y/n about how much he loves her right now
samkerr20: he is and it's so loud the whole locker room can hear it
yourusername: but he's so sweet isn't he
niamhcharles17: i guess?
alexalbon: we heard it from his side... barf
yourusername: @lilymunhe are you being starved of romance?
lilymunhe: compared to you and charles YES
alexalbon: ummmm get out of my business y/ln
yourusername: you're ALWAYS in my business buster 🤨
alexalbon: NO! i am just passing down the ancient skill of communication?
yourusername: you're such a gossip girl alex
user21: i know they bicker like siblings, but i know deep down that there have been double dates
charles_leclerc: yes, but y/n and i are much better (no offence lily)
yourusername: did you log back in to restart the argument with alex
charles_leclerc: yes!
alexalbon: boo you whore
yourusername: don't talk to him like that 🤨
samkerr20
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 303,445 others
tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc
samkerr20: forced to hang out with the straights... they're actually kind of cute
view all comments
user22: you know the couple has to be real cute when even the gays think they're cute
user23: no one can resist the charms of y/n and charles
yourusername: these photos make me think that we are cuter
samkerr20: we are but i didn't want to hurt charles' feelings
charles_leclerc: consider them hurt
samkerr20: boo hoo
yourusername: noooooo i love you xxx
charles_leclerc: hehehehehehehe i love you too xxx
yourusername: i miss you, hurry up and win and come home to me
charles_leclerc: i'm doing my best :(
yourusername: you are the bestest boy
samkerr20: STOP THAT MAKES HIM SOUND LIKE A DOG
oscarpiastri: when will australians stop being victims of this relationship
danielricciardo: this is your first season dealing with them properly, buckle up
oscarpiastri: i'm in a relationship but they make me feel so lonely
maxverstappen1: you get used to it after a while
yourusername: we're right here
landonorris: let us commiserate in peace
charles_leclerc: ??? do you or do you not get free football tickets out of it?
landonorris: yeha but when we go we just have to watch you cry when y/n inevitably wins another trophy
charles_leclerc: I'M PROUD OF HER AND YOU WON'T SHAME ME FOR THAT
user24: chelsea women players must be so confused when these grown men start arguments in the comments of THEIR posts
yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 1,529,556 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: weekend off... you know what that means
view all comments
user25: i know there's over 1.5 million likes but how can i gatekeep y/n?
user26: for real
charles_leclerc: the best weekends are with you here
yourusername: i may have a love/hate relationship with this team, but the catering is banging (i may have to move to italy)
chelseafcw: NO MENTIONS OF LEAVING CHELSEA, NOT EVEN A JOKE - NOTHING!
yourusername: okay, sorry guys (the pasta was so good though)
charles_leclerc: not even for me?
chelseafcw: DEFINITELY NOT FOR YOU, WATCH OUT OR WE'LL BLACKLIST YOU FROM KINGSMEADOW
yourusername: okay, let's pedal this back. i'm not leaving london and we all still love charles, right admin?
chelseafcw: .... yes
user27: when you're in a who has attachment issues with y/n y/ln and your competition is the chelseafcw admin and charles leclerc
user28: no point even showing up
maxverstappen1: i for one am glad when y/n is in the paddock because it means i can sneak in without the cameras seeing me
yourusername: i am a woman of the people
charles_leclerc: she's such a star, everyone wants to see her
maxverstappen1: yeah i'll give you that
yourusername: we're also hot
charles_leclerc: don't you dare respond to that one max
maxverstappen1: 🫡🫡🫡
user29: patiently waiting for the hq photos of them 😚
user30: gonna print them out and put them in my heart locket
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charles_leclerc
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,398,452 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: babe is top of the league (and top scorer)
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user33: get yourself a guy who flexes your achievements as much as charles does
user34: setting the example tbf
yourusername: my lucky charm, that hat-trick was for you xx
charles_leclerc: would mean more if you didn't score them every week 😭
yourusername: they hate to see a girlboss winning
charles_leclerc: wanna share some wins with me?
yourusername: you're doing great this season babe, not your fault that nasa decided to rebrand to red bull racing
redbullracing: adrian says thanks 😊
charles_leclerc: DON'T SAY IT Y/N
yourusername: you don't even know what i was going to say
charles_leclerc: ....
yourusername: @redbullracing you got a seat???
charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!!!!!!!!
yourusername: whoops
user35: y/n really out here trying to get charles that damn seat
yourusername: i'll stop when the horse team makes a championship worthy car that they don't break halfway through the season...
user36: add ferrari to the group of people who shudder in fear when y/n posts
chelseafcw: fine... we hope you enjoyed (no more italy jokes)
charles_leclerc: i had a great time, i always do when i watch y/n do what she loves (slay)
yourusername: awwwwwwwwww i love you charlie
chelseafcw: okay no need to make admin feel that lonely, damn
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yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,782,309 others
yourusername: finishing my best ever season with a big trophy haul :) now time to support my trophy husband in his day job
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user41: she really be out here doing it all
user42: i need her to win the Ballon d'Or Féminin PLEASE IT IS TIME
user43: with charles in attendance, first couples red carpet appearance YES, YES RUN IT TO ME PLEASE
charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you, mon amour, constantly inspired by you
yourusername: i love you so much, thank you for being there to support me through it all
charles_leclerc: it's the biggest pleasure in the world
yourusername: i'm all out of winning this season, your turn next weekend?
charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything
user44: PLEASE I NEED HIM TO WIN GOOD PLEASE
alexalbon: congrats i guess, you're pretty good
yourusername: thanks, since my boyf is so supportive, it's only natural that you have to try and humble me at every turn
alexalbon: you're more famous than us now, we need to keep you grounded
lilymunhe: don't worry y/n he cried nearly just as much as charles when you won the WSL
yourusername: I KNEW IT
charles_leclerc: i still cried more
alexalbon: it's not a competition bro, we all know you're both helplessly in love
yourusername: that we are
charles_leclerc
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,309,855 others
tagged: yourusername
charles_leclerc: happiest when i'm with you (and whoever has decided to tag along), oh and winning a race helps as well i guess
view all comments
user45: CHARLES WIN I REPEAT A CHARLES WIN WE WON?
user46: the way y/n went just as mental as us, her and zecira jumping around the garage (and starting the champagne shower after the podium)
user47: really proving that y/n and charles really are each other's biggest fans
user48: thank the lord the WSL season finished when it did so y/n could be there for this win
user49: y/n would've ran to austria to be there i'm sure
yourusername: you know it 🫡
maxverstappen1: had to let you win so you could look cool in front of your infinitely cooler girlfriend
charles_leclerc: not even gonna bite, i'm too happy to care
yourusername: i'll bite - HIS TALENTED BEHIND SCHOOLED YOUR ASS
maxverstappen1: but i called you cool?
yourusername: i'll accept the compliment now, i had to defend charles' honour first
charles_leclerc: heheheehe i'm blushing
maxverstappen1: gross
user50: i need y/n to permanently be in the ferrari garage, they were on it today (i think out of fear)
landonorris: damn i thought i thirdwheeling lestappen was bad, but y/n and charles is a different beast
yourusername: we're both athletes, need to savour the time we have together when we can
charles_leclerc: sorry not sorry you'll get it when you're in love
landonorris: .... i guess i'll die then
fin.
note: i hope you enjoyed !!!! one last WIP to go and good lord the writers block is kicking my ass. but f1 being back should help!!! + f1 academy, much enjoyed it so far.
1K notes · View notes
tinycoffeeroom · 4 months ago
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yes chef! | daniel ricciardo
face claim: laura harrier ♡
request: here !
pairing: daniel ricciardo x black!chef!reader
requested: hello ml !! 🫶 I stumbled upon one of your F1 smau’s and the way I swallowed your blog whole right after, I loved it all !!😭 I’d love to request a smau with Daniel Ricciardo x fem!chefreader, like maybe her studying to become a chef, or right up to her exams and graduation? It’s all good if you don’t wan’t to, have a wonderful week either way🫶 - 🍊🫒
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📍 Marriott Hotels
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👤 cheflingy/n liked by cheflingy/n, maxverstappen1 and 1,827,050 others
danielricciardo one last night away before exam season for my little chefling x
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cheflingy/n thank you for taking me away my love ❤️ gonna miss seeing your stupid face 24/7 😭 ↳ danielricciardo gonna miss your stupid face too... after exams you're coming to every race with me no exceptions! ↳ cheflingy/n sure thing handsome x
fan it's not a danny ric post if he doesn't rub it in our faces that he's dating y/n and we're not ↳ fan ikr like can you share with the group please ↳ danielricciardo i don't share my food ↳ fan we were talking about y/n ↳ danielricciardo so was i ↳ cheflingy/n down boy!
fan y/n what do you rate the hotel pasta out of 10? ↳ cheflingy/n hmmm a 6? the sauce was nice but was lacking a little in the taste department... if we were at home i'd have added some chili flakes which would have bumped it to a 7! ↳ fan the hotel should be honoured to receive a 6 from chef y/n ↳ cheflingy/n chefling! not passed my exams yet!!
fan y/ns so pretty im gonna scream ♥️ danielricciardo
fan will we be getting a y/n recreates?? ↳ cheflingy/n yeppers! will work on it when i get home 🩷 ↳ fan thank u queen x
francisca.c.gomes barking at the top of my lungs ↳ cheflingy/n come give me a kiss xxx ↳ francisca.c.gomes running as fast as i can!!! ↳ danielricciardo pierregasly we should kiss too ↳ pierregasly come here big boy
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👤 danielricciardo liked by bffstagram, danielricciardo and 609,817 others
cheflingy/n y/n recreates part 15! we visited the Marriott in New York and had their spaghetti alla vodka! you might have seen in danny's comments that i rated it a 6/10 due to the little flavour in the sauce but with a few chili flakes and a little balsamic vinegar, we have a strong 9/10 on our hands! link in my bio ❤️
also swipe for my favourite 10/10 meal x
danielricciardo omg stop objectifying me 🙄 ↳ cheflingy/n you literally called me food in your last post ↳ danielricciardo ... you got me there
fan y/n being the queen of the thattoo agenda ↳ cheflingy/n i rule that shit with an iron fist ↳ fan knowing y/n gets to see the thattoos in all their glory 😔 vs knowing she'll share with the group 😀
fan y/n recreates is back!!!! looks yummy, wish apple would create a way to smell through a screen ↳ cheflingy/n it was very good!! the recipe is in the description of my youtube, you should make it with me!! ↳ fan i will do it purely bc you suggested it 💞
lilymhe can i have some too 🥺 ↳ cheflingy/n ofc lils!! i'll make you some special pasta for the next gp x ↳ lilymhe i'm in love with you
maxverstappen1 funnily enough the 3rd slide is also my favourite meal ↳ cheflingy/n you take the outside i'll take the inside ↳ maxverstappen1 divide and conquer, i like your thinking 🫡 ↳ danielricciardo it's like i'm just a piece of meat to them
fan i live for the fact y/n joins in with maxiel ↳ fan essentially a throuple at this point ↳ cheflingy/n i would rather eat my own toes than enter a throuple with max and daniel ↳ maxverstappen1 rude? ↳ cheflingy/n mf you BURNT a salad, idek how you managed that... at least danny can cook a mean steak ↳ maxverstappen1 it was too close to the stove :(((( ↳ fan im sorry he burnt a salad???? new max lore unlocked
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danielricciardo uploaded to their story
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replies:
maxverstappen1 i am outside your door ↳ danielricciardo ominous? ↳ maxverstappen1 open up i want a y/n apple turnover ↳ danielricciardo sorry cant hear you over the sound of me chowing down ↳ maxverstappen1 i know how to pick locks. ↳ danielricciardo ... who taught you that? ↳ maxverstappen1 y/n :) ↳ danielricciardo she never showed me how to pick locks :( ↳ maxverstappen1 pretty privilege, sorry you wouldn't understand ↳ danielricciardo im gonna spit on your turnover ↳ maxverstappen1 kinky x
fan share with the group please ↳ danielricciardo nope!
cheflingy/n i'm glad you liked them handsome x ↳ danielricciardo when does your class end so i can give you a fat kiss? ↳ cheflingy/n i'll be home in an hour x ↳ danielricciardo yippee!! x
fan honey b 😭 she even made a cute nickname out of that whack ass nickname ↳ danielricciardo WHACK ASS??? now that's crazy, give me a reason why i shouldn't block you ↳ fan i bought enchanté merch ↳ danielricciardo you're safe for now.
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 798,014 others
cheflingy/n pastry week got me feeling like... can't wait for final exams next week so y'all can start calling me chef y/n for real
danielricciardo sneak one home pls xx ↳ cheflingy/n already put one in a container x ↳ danielricciardo no one snitch on me to my trainer
landonorris does that mean we have to say yes chef to anything you say? ↳ cheflingy/n yes x ↳ landonorris ok slay ↳ cheflingy/n that gave me the ick a lil bit ↳ fan same ↳ fan same ↳ danielricciardo same ↳ oscarpiastri same ↳ landonorris ?? disrespect???
fan y/n what dessert is that it looks yummers! ↳ cheflingy/n is just a really fancy carrot cake!! will post the recipe when im home 🩷 ↳ fan i love you.
kellypiquet p would like some carrot cake too! (and her mum) ↳ cheflingy/n tell p we can have a baking session soon! miss her little face x ↳ kellypiquet and me? ↳ cheflingy/n i miss your little face too x
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chefling y/n has uploaded a new video
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👤 danielricciardo liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 907,286 others
cheflingy/n doints in the bank so my man gets a steak xx
danielricciardo im her man 🥰🥰 ↳ cheflingy/n damn right you are!
maxverstappen1 i won the race, where's my steak? ↳ cheflingy/n kellypiquet ↳ maxverstappen1 stole my man, won't even cook me steak... what's the point of being world champ if i don't get SHIT ↳ kellypiquet big baby, she texted to say she'd bring some over when they're back from the cabin ↳ maxverstappen1 yippee!!!
fan steak, chicken AND lamb??? oh she's in LOVE love ↳ cheflingy/n he deserves it x
oscarpiastri can i get some steak too? 🥺 ↳ cheflingy/n ofc ofc!! i'll bring some to the next race 🧡 ↳ landonorris me too! ↳ cheflingy/n you can have whatever oscar leaves. ↳ landonorris what the fuck
fan ratings? ↳ danielricciardo 11/10 she never misses ↳ fan wish that was me...
fan did you get chance to watch the race??!! ↳ cheflingy/n i may have skipped a practice session to go on sunday... ↳ fan you're the reason we have doints we love you ↳ cheflingy/n it was all down to danny's driving i promise!! i just sit there and look pretty!! ↳ danielricciardo the prettiest x
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👤 bffstagram liked by bffstagram, danielricciardo and 992,716 others
cheflingy/n who up ratting their touille rn??!!
bffstagram MEMEMEMEME!!!!! ↳ cheflingy/n how's that fourth red bull treating you? ↳ bffstagram i can see sounds.
fan she's just like me fr: losing her mind during final exams ↳ cheflingy/n now who said i'm losing my mind... ↳ cheflingy/n you would be right tho my eyeballs ache from being open for so long
mercedesmgf1 we can send you some lewis hamilton monster to help you stay awake 🩵 ↳ danielricciardo this is a red bull house ONLY ↳ redbullracing iktr! y/nnie we have a special care package coming your way soon 💙 ↳ cheflingy/n i love you red bull
lilynzeimer what happens if we're not ratting our touille? ↳ cheflingy/n you gotta step your game up!
landonorris the girl in the second pic is cute, she got an @ ? ↳ cheflingy/n you stay away from her she's a good girl. ↳ landonorris c'mon, you know i'm a nice guy ↳ bffstagram unfortunately for you, i'm allergic to papaya :) ↳ bffstagram i am however, a big fan of chilis x ↳ carlossainz55 good to know 🤨 ↳ cheflingy/n get your flirting OUT of my comments
fan you got this y/n!! can't wait to call you chef y/n properly!!! 💘💖💗💞💕💗💞💝💖💓💕 ↳ cheflingy/n thank u i love u 🥺🩷
fan when's the last exam miss chefling?? ↳ cheflingy/n tomorrow!! luckily we get our results in a week so i wont be climbing the walls for too long!! ↳ fan good luck!!! you're gonna smash it!! 💘💘 ♥️ cheflingy/n
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chefling y/n has uploaded a new video
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👤 chefy/n liked by vcarb, chefly/n and 1,728,915 others
danielricciardo after 4 long years, my girls finally a graduate ❤️ chef y/n i love you and i'm so bloody proud of you x
See 104,817 other comments
chefy/n danny 🥹 thank you for the flowers and the cake and for just being there with me, i love you so so much ❤️ ↳ danielricciardo i love you more my sexy gordon ramsey
vcarb congratulations y/n!!! we may have an opening in red bull hospitality for you 😉 ↳ chefly/n love y'all but i am very happy just following dan around the paddock on race days 🤣
maxverstappen1 simp ↳ maxverstappen1 also congrats y/n! now about that meal you mentioned last week... ↳ chefy/n man can i enjoy my post grad vacay first damn 😭
alexandrasaintmleux chef y/n we love you 💜 ↳ chefy/n i love you alex 💛 ↳ charles_leclerc don't suppose you fancy sharing some of that cake? ↳ chefy/n come over, doors unlocked! (bring alex too) ↳ charles_leclerc you just want to see my girlfriend... ↳ chefy/n correct captain obvious
fan she changed her @ !! chef y/n welcome we love you!!! ↳ chefy/n i love you too!!!
bffstagram that's my favourite chef right there!! ↳ chefy/n thank you chef x ↳ bffstagram you're welcome chef x
landonorris let's go chef y/n!! you should celebrate by bringing me and osc those banging pastries in your last vid ↳ chefy/n if you run over here in time, there may be some left 🤫 ↳ oscarpiastri you should have seen his little legs it was giving scooby doo ↳ chefy/n giving? we need to get you away from that man ↳ oscarpiastri please...
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📍 Spain
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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 893,017 others
chefy/n week away with my love ❤️ spain was so so gorgeous i couldn't resist picking up a camera and documenting danny trying to make paella, coming to youtube tomorrow x
danielricciardo i think i did a banging job ↳ chefy/n sure you did babe x
maxverstappen1 where was my invite? ↳ fan breaking up the throuple fr 😔 ↳ chefy/n you have your own plane you could have flown over ↳ maxverstappen1 WAIT that was an option? ↳ chefy/n no x ↳ maxverstappen1 that's just cruel...
fan are we getting a y/n recreates of dannys paella?? ↳ chefy/n is that something you would want?? ↳ fan YES ↳ fan YESYEYSYESYEYS PLEASE ↳ fan it's a need not a want y/n please!!!! ↳ chefy/n i hear y'all, i'll get started soon x
kellypiquet gorgeous girl x ↳ chefy/n love you kels x
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chef y/n uploaded a new video
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👤 enchante, chefy/n liked by chefy/n, enchante and 1,938,724 others
danielricciardo welcome to the Enchanté cafe. All meals provided by our resident chef 😉
See 934,018 others
fan STOP y/n making the food for the promo videos 🥺 i love them
fan and WHY were there no videos of y/n cooking? ↳ danielricciardo she didn't wanna steal my limelight ↳ chefy/n i'll be uploading a bts vid to my youtube tomorrow, you'll see me there 😉
chefy/n that food looks super yummy! ↳ danielricciardo yeah i heard the chef graduated top of her class ↳ chefy/n damn she must be good then ↳ danielricciardo the absolute best x
enchante the resident chef is never allowed to leave ↳ chefy/n i would never want to ❤️
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a/n: my first emoji anon! hi! and welcome danny ric to tinycoffeeroom! i hope you enjoy and that i did your request justice! <3 also psa i looooveeee the honey badger nickname pls dont kill me 😭
taglist: @golden-hoax
478 notes · View notes
aphrogeneias · 9 months ago
Text
...right? — one-shot
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (modern!au)
summary: you're not sure of where you stand with eddie munson, but you're forced to confront your feelings after almost losing him.
word count: 3k
warnings: fluff and angst with a happy ending. jealous!reader. feelings of self-doubt. eddie munson is a sweetheart.
author's note: this one has been a long time in the making, and it may be a little melodramatic, but i'm doing a lot of self-projecting here, so be nice. thank you to @intrepidacious for reading it for me and giving me your approval <3 i'm sorry to all the girls named emma reading this, but i had to give that character a name.
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We're performing tonight, if you want to stop by.
You'd been staring at this message for a couple of minutes now, unsure of what to do. You seemed to be in this dilemma a lot, as of late — to answer or not to answer, to show or not to show.
Too scared to show how you felt, but too scared to lose him at the same time.
Zoned out, you caught Robin’s hand flying in your direction from your peripheral. “Stop looking at your phone!”
She snatched it from your hand, still open in your conversation with Eddie. Robin whistled when she took a look at your screen, “Oh, I see. How are things with Mr. Headbanger?”
“You're talking to Eddie?” Chrissy chimed in from her side of the bed, lifting herself on one elbow to see you better with Robin between you.
The three of you had been like this all night, spread out on Chrissy’s queen bed, a sequence of old romantic comedies playing on her TV. There was an empty pizza box on her fuzzy carpet, and a half finished bottle of wine next to it, the second of the night.
You groan, trying to get your phone back to no avail. “Things have been… well, I think. Too well. I guess I've just been waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Then, it was their time to groan.
Your friends like calling you jaded, but you consider yourself a realist.
It's been a topic of conversation between you for years. Ever since your last relationship ended, after you'd been left for another woman, when you swore off love for good — at first, they thought you were just grieving, it would take time to heal, of course, but you never really did.
You don't think you've ever been anything other than an open wound, in that sense, even before your ex. The high walls that were meant to protect you eventually became a prison you couldn't get out of. A princess and a dragon, all in one.
That is until Eddie Munson came into your life.
No one's ever made you want to drop those walls as much as he does. You'd met him through Chrissy, who’d been his friend since high school, and at first you thought he wasn't really flirting with you. He seemed to always be flirting with everyone, always getting a little too close. Until he asked you out, and you were still not convinced.
It could be a friend date. He could be after one of other friends. Maybe he was just passing time until he found someone better.
That was a few months ago, and Eddie hasn't gone anywhere.
He had a few shirts on your place, merch from various bands which you were growing fond of listening to them in his car. Shirts you would wear to bed when he wasn't spending the night, curling into bed with his smell on you. He'd made friends with your cat, and fixed your coffee in the morning the way you liked it, and left strands of hair loose in your shower.
A brave knight, that Eddie is.
Despite your closeness, and the honesty you see in his eyes whenever you're near him, neither one of you has put a name on what you have. It keeps you up at night, thoughts about calling him your boyfriend and have him laughing at your face. How could you be so stupid?
The thought of it brings tears to your eyes.
“What if that's it, though?” Chrissy interjects, with a gentle voice. Her small hand reached for yours, and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “What if there's no other intentions, no other shoe to drop? You have no reason not to trust him.”
“You say that because he's your friend.”
“Chris is right, babe.” Robin says, sitting straighter on the bed. “He’s never given you any reason to think like that. You need to let yourself go, just this once.”
You sigh, and mumble something along the lines of “Easier said than done,” as you sit up and pull your knees to rest your chin on them.
“You should go, by the way.”
Robin reaches to you with your phone in hand, handling it back to you. Her blue eyes are kind, understanding. Chrissy smiles from her place between you.
“Our local rockstar is waiting for you.”
You respond Eddie with a short omw <3 before your friends are pushing you out of your stupor, and into the street.
They’ve already finished their set by the time you arrive at The Hideout.
You're dressed entirely inappropriate for a dive bar full of metalheads and middle-aged bikers, but you don't let yourself think too much about it because no one really notices you coming in, except for the bouncer who compliments you on your old college sweatshirt.
The night is well beyond starting. The bar is full, and it takes you a while to find Eddie, but when you do, he finds you immediately.
He's at the foot of the stage, talking to his friends. The rest of the band is around too, and you wave at them as Eddie makes his way towards you. The smile that pulls on your lips is uncontrollable when he, with an excited smile of his own, takes you in his arms, wrapping himself around you. “Hi! You just missed the show!”
“I'm sorry! I was at Chrissy’s.”
You take a second to look at him closely. His wild hair is a little damp, and his Accept shirt has the sleeves cut off, which shows more of his tattoos. There's a studded belt on his hips, and you don't think too much before pulling him closer by it.
Eddie kisses you on the forehead, and his lips linger a little bit before pulling away. “Did you tell her I said hi?”
“Forgot to. But next time I'll make sure to send your regards.”
When he's close like this, you almost forget your doubts. When his arm is around your shoulders and he's pulling you close, the smell of his cologne and the last cigarette he smoked before going on stage cling to you, and you cling to it in turn.
“Good, and make sure to arrive on time next time too because we played your favorite and you weren't here.” He pouts dramatically, putting one hand to his chest.
The gasp you let out matches it. “Metal Health? Eddie, no!”
“Eddie, yes!” He shakes you a little, turning you in the direction of the tables. “We played Quiet Riot, and you weren't here to see it. Have to say I'm a little disappointed, sweetheart.”
Walking along with him, you stop when you reach a vacant booth on the corner. Turning to face him fully, you leave a soft kiss on his stubbled chin. “I guess you'll just have to keep playing it, then.”
“Does that mean you'll come to every show?”
There's no space between the two of you, standing chest to chest with each other. The rest of the bar disappears. “I might, if you'll have me.”
“Baby, I'll…”
The bubble you find yourselves in shatters and breaks when Eddie stutters, and turns, because there is someone poking him on the back, disturbing your moment. It's a woman, asking to speak to him.
You don't really register what she's saying. All you know is that you've seen her around before, and you know she's friends with the guys. Eddie apologizes to you as he's being dragged away for a private conversation. “I'll be right back! Don't go far.”
Nodding, you remain frozen in place.
They don't go far, but you can't really tell what they're talking about, but her hand on his forearm, slowly rising to his bicep, tells you everything you need to know.
You don't realize it but you're shaking a little bit, cold sweat prickling through your suddenly frigid skin. There's a ringing in your ears, and a lump growing in your throat, but you can't stop yourself from looking.
He looks beautiful like this. The light from the now empty stage hits his figure from the back, making him look every bit like the rock god he's always aspired to be. The frizz on his hair creates a halo around his head, and you think you might faint.
To his credit, he doesn't get any closer to the girl. Doesn't flirt back. His smile is polite, and he maintains a sensible distance, but that's not enough to ease your mind.
He's only keeping a distance because you're here. Your mind says, always the traitor. You're holding him back. He could be making out with a different girl every night. Maybe he is. Maybe he is and you're none the wiser. Better walk away now. Go, before your heart breaks.
It's already breaking, and you're the culprit.
You almost don't notice Eddie return to you, as your vision’s gone blurry.
“Sorry, Emma wanted to invite me to an after party. Told her I was busy.” There it was, his easy smile again. From a first look, you wouldn't think Eddie Munson smiles so easily, but it's always there, pulling on his full lips and showing off his dimples.
You would smile back, as usual, but it's like your face can't move.
“Just you?” You ask, “Not the rest of the boys?”
He laughs, but there's not much humor behind it. “Just me.”
“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” He is still grinning, raising one eyebrow at you, as if taunting you to speak up. Something rotten spreads through your insides, stirring them, rising like bile right through your opened mouth.
“Say what? It's not like we're dating, Eddie."
If regret could kill, you would be dead the moment you saw his face fall. Eddie's expressiveness is a double-edged sword — his happiness was contagious, but when he’s upset, there is nothing that could distract you from the way his bambi eyes plead to you.
You double down anyway, already feeling like a fool, but too stubborn to take back what you said.
"...right?"
“Is that what you think?” He asks, a pout on his pretty lips. “Is that what you want?”
“I… I don't know.” Your mouth is moving, but it's like you don't have control over what you're saying anymore. Like you can't even hear yourself, too taken by the dread that has taken over your body. “I think… What do you think?”
You throw the question back at him because you can't be the first one to say it. Because if he backs out, if you say what you really want — and it's him, he's all you've ever wanted, and the realization hits you like a punch to the gut — and he says it's never been quite like that, that he doesn't want you the same way, that he's just been passing the time, you would break.
Eddie looks away from you, then. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, “You're not sure what you want, is that what you're telling me?”
“No! No, it's not like that.” You almost choke on your own spit, “I'm just…”
Scared. Of opening your heart, of rejection, of him leaving when he learns how much you want him, need him.
“If you're not sure of what you want, I think you should take some time to think about it.”
“But, Eddie, I…”
“Think about it, and call me when you know.”
One of his hands goes to your shoulder, squeezing it, and briefly running thumb over the fabric of your sweatshirt. He's turning around before you can stay anything, the lump in your throat too big to allow you to speak.
The room feels like it's turning upside down as you turn the other way, towards the door. It turns and turns on its axis, and you almost lose your balance as you're making your way out. You wave halfheartedly at the bouncer, who waves back at you in the middle of his conversation with a green haired girl.
Walking home, you have time to think of what you'd just done.
As the tears roll freely through your face, and you wipe them with the end of your sleeves, you think of Eddie’s sullen face, once full of life, now transpiring his disappointment in you. You'd let him down, and it was all your fault.
In an attempt to protect yourself, you pushed him away.
You imagine him back at the bar, with the boys. With Emma, ready to console him after what you just did to him. The thought of it just makes you cry harder, trying to control your breathing as you get closer to your apartment.
You did what you always do. Leave first, turn your back, clam up back into your shell. You just never thought you'd do that to him.
It doesn't take long until you spiral.
You did all you could after you got home. Tried to breathe, but it only made you cry harder. Curled up on the couch with your cat, a brown tabby that curled herself right back into you, and cried until there were no tears left. Ignored your friends’ messages on your phone, pretending everything was all right.
Tried to drink, but felt too sad to even open your fridge. Ran into one of Eddie’s hoodies hanging from the back of a chair in your room, and felt more tears coming, but no strength to cry.
Everything in your room reminded you of him — your unmade bed where he'd be lying on if you didn't screw up, the fantasy book he'd let you borrow on your bedside table, a polaroid of the two of you with your arms around each other serving as a bookmark.
You pick your phone, and it rings and rings. He doesn't answer. In a moment of panic, you leave a message instead, pacing through your room on your bare feet, still wearing the clothes you went out in. The cat on your bed follows your movements with her eyes.
“Hi, Eddie. I… You might not even want to hear from me right now, and I get that. Really, I do, but… You just need to know I know I fucked up. I didn't mean to do you like that, I didn't mean to say those things to you.”
Your voice trembles, just like the hand that's holding your phone to your mouth, but you keep going, “Of course we're dating, we've been dating for a while now. I was too scared to say anything because we never put a label on it and I thought you didn't want anything with me, I guess I just didn't want to be the first one to say it in case you decided this wasn't… that I wasn't… what you wanted.”
There's a few seconds pause as you take a deep breath, and release it in an anguished sigh. “What I'm trying to say is… that I like you. A lot. Have since the beginning. And I understand if you didn't want anything to do with me anymore because of what I just did, but… if you still want to talk, I'm… I'm still here, okay? I'm still here.”
When you're finished, you throw your phone back on your bed, and wait.
You're still pacing around the house, a mug full of tea in hand, when you hear your phone vibrating on your bed. You almost don't pick it up, but you do anyway.
Two notifications from Eddie.
Can I come over?
Are you still up?
Hands shaking, you answer with a simple Yeah. Key’s on the carpet.
The clock on your screen says it's 2:22 AM.
You hear your door opening not too long after that, the spare key turning on the lock, as you're sitting on the couch, writing like a kid that's to be scolded when their parents come home. The mug of tea is half empty at your feet, and now cold, just as your nervous hands as Eddie comes through the door.
Wearing a Metallica sweatshirt, an older one that you've borrowed before, one you know how soft it feels on the skin, he comes in and silently closes the door behind him, leaving the key on a small ceramic plate by it.
You cave in before he can say anything. “I'm sorry.”
Your chin is wobbling again, but you swallow it down, not wanting to make a scene. Eddie comes closer, and sits next to you, careful not to kick the mug that you left carelessly on the floor.
“No, I'm sorry. I should have said something, I should have told you what you meant to me sooner. You know… I've been calling you my girlfriend to everyone but to the person who matters the most.”
“Everyone?” You repeat, “Everyone who?”
“The guys. At work. Wayne…”
“You told your uncle I'm your girlfriend?” The word feels foreign in your tongue, but not unpleasant. Eddie looks sheepish, but the corner of his mouth twitches and lifts just a bit, one of those dimples you love making an appearance in your dimly lit living room.
“Yeah. Like I said, everyone but the one who matters the most.”
There it is. That earnestness, pouring through him, warming you up from the inside out.
“And I guess… Am I the person you mean?”
“Who else would it be?” He's tilting his head now, kind eyes aimed at you. You huff a weak laugh, them, relief hitting you in waves. Not thinking too much, you throw yourself at him, hugging him by the shoulders, and folding your legs under your thighs to be closer to him.
“I'm still sorry, though. Sorry that I made you think I had doubts, or that I…”
Eddie doesn't let you finish, shushing you with a hand on the back of your head, and another wrapping around your waist, keeping you in place. “It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry too.”
“Since we're both sorry, does anyone have to be sorry at all?” You mumble into his shoulder, taking in his smell through his clothes. It soothes you more than anything can, along with his voice vibrating through his chest, and the warmth of his body clinging to yours.
“I think we can discuss the details in the morning.”
He seals it with a kiss to your temple. You and your boyfriend sleep on that same couch, and in the morning, there is nothing left to say.
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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months ago
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Copyright takedowns are a cautionary tale that few are heeding
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On July 14, I'm giving the closing keynote for the fifteenth HACKERS ON PLANET EARTH, in QUEENS, NY. Happy Bastille Day! On July 20, I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.
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We're living through one of those moments when millions of people become suddenly and overwhelmingly interested in fair use, one of the subtlest and worst-understood aspects of copyright law. It's not a subject you can master by skimming a Wikipedia article!
I've been talking about fair use with laypeople for more than 20 years. I've met so many people who possess the unshakable, serene confidence of the truly wrong, like the people who think fair use means you can take x words from a book, or y seconds from a song and it will always be fair, while anything more will never be.
Or the people who think that if you violate any of the four factors, your use can't be fair – or the people who think that if you fail all of the four factors, you must be infringing (people, the Supreme Court is calling and they want to tell you about the Betamax!).
You might think that you can never quote a song lyric in a book without infringing copyright, or that you must clear every musical sample. You might be rock solid certain that scraping the web to train an AI is infringing. If you hold those beliefs, you do not understand the "fact intensive" nature of fair use.
But you can learn! It's actually a really cool and interesting and gnarly subject, and it's a favorite of copyright scholars, who have really fascinating disagreements and discussions about the subject. These discussions often key off of the controversies of the moment, but inevitably they implicate earlier fights about everything from the piano roll to 2 Live Crew to antiracist retellings of Gone With the Wind.
One of the most interesting discussions of fair use you can ask for took place in 2019, when the NYU Engelberg Center on Innovation Law & Policy held a symposium called "Proving IP." One of the panels featured dueling musicologists debating the merits of the Blurred Lines case. That case marked a turning point in music copyright, with the Marvin Gaye estate successfully suing Robin Thicke and Pharrell Williams for copying the "vibe" of Gaye's "Got to Give it Up."
Naturally, this discussion featured clips from both songs as the experts – joined by some of America's top copyright scholars – delved into the legal reasoning and future consequences of the case. It would be literally impossible to discuss this case without those clips.
And that's where the problems start: as soon as the symposium was uploaded to Youtube, it was flagged and removed by Content ID, Google's $100,000,000 copyright enforcement system. This initial takedown was fully automated, which is how Content ID works: rightsholders upload audio to claim it, and then Content ID removes other videos where that audio appears (rightsholders can also specify that videos with matching clips be demonetized, or that the ad revenue from those videos be diverted to the rightsholders).
But Content ID has a safety valve: an uploader whose video has been incorrectly flagged can challenge the takedown. The case is then punted to the rightsholder, who has to manually renew or drop their claim. In the case of this symposium, the rightsholder was Universal Music Group, the largest record company in the world. UMG's personnel reviewed the video and did not drop the claim.
99.99% of the time, that's where the story would end, for many reasons. First of all, most people don't understand fair use well enough to contest the judgment of a cosmically vast, unimaginably rich monopolist who wants to censor their video. Just as importantly, though, is that Content ID is a Byzantine system that is nearly as complex as fair use, but it's an entirely private affair, created and adjudicated by another galactic-scale monopolist (Google).
Google's copyright enforcement system is a cod-legal regime with all the downsides of the law, and a few wrinkles of its own (for example, it's a system without lawyers – just corporate experts doing battle with laypeople). And a single mis-step can result in your video being deleted or your account being permanently deleted, along with every video you've ever posted. For people who make their living on audiovisual content, losing your Youtube account is an extinction-level event:
https://www.eff.org/wp/unfiltered-how-youtubes-content-id-discourages-fair-use-and-dictates-what-we-see-online
So for the average Youtuber, Content ID is a kind of Kafka-as-a-Service system that is always avoided and never investigated. But the Engelbert Center isn't your average Youtuber: they boast some of the country's top copyright experts, specializing in exactly the questions Youtube's Content ID is supposed to be adjudicating.
So naturally, they challenged the takedown – only to have UMG double down. This is par for the course with UMG: they are infamous for refusing to consider fair use in takedown requests. Their stance is so unreasonable that a court actually found them guilty of violating the DMCA's provision against fraudulent takedowns:
https://www.eff.org/cases/lenz-v-universal
But the DMCA's takedown system is part of the real law, while Content ID is a fake law, created and overseen by a tech monopolist, not a court. So the fate of the Blurred Lines discussion turned on the Engelberg Center's ability to navigate both the law and the n-dimensional topology of Content ID's takedown flowchart.
It took more than a year, but eventually, Engelberg prevailed.
Until they didn't.
If Content ID was a person, it would be baby, specifically, a baby under 18 months old – that is, before the development of "object permanence." Until our 18th month (or so), we lack the ability to reason about things we can't see – this the period when small babies find peek-a-boo amazing. Object permanence is the ability to understand things that aren't in your immediate field of vision.
Content ID has no object permanence. Despite the fact that the Engelberg Blurred Lines panel was the most involved fair use question the system was ever called upon to parse, it managed to repeatedly forget that it had decided that the panel could stay up. Over and over since that initial determination, Content ID has taken down the video of the panel, forcing Engelberg to go through the whole process again.
But that's just for starters, because Youtube isn't the only place where a copyright enforcement bot is making billions of unsupervised, unaccountable decisions about what audiovisual material you're allowed to access.
Spotify is yet another monopolist, with a justifiable reputation for being extremely hostile to artists' interests, thanks in large part to the role that UMG and the other major record labels played in designing its business rules:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/12/streaming-doesnt-pay/#stunt-publishing
Spotify has spent hundreds of millions of dollars trying to capture the podcasting market, in the hopes of converting one of the last truly open digital publishing systems into a product under its control:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/27/enshittification-resistance/#ummauerter-garten-nein
Thankfully, that campaign has failed – but millions of people have (unwisely) ditched their open podcatchers in favor of Spotify's pre-enshittified app, so everyone with a podcast now must target Spotify for distribution if they hope to reach those captive users.
Guess who has a podcast? The Engelberg Center.
Naturally, Engelberg's podcast includes the audio of that Blurred Lines panel, and that audio includes samples from both "Blurred Lines" and "Got To Give It Up."
So – naturally – UMG keeps taking down the podcast.
Spotify has its own answer to Content ID, and incredibly, it's even worse and harder to navigate than Google's pretend legal system. As Engelberg describes in its latest post, UMG and Spotify have colluded to ensure that this now-classic discussion of fair use will never be able to take advantage of fair use itself:
https://www.nyuengelberg.org/news/how-explaining-copyright-broke-the-spotify-copyright-system/
Remember, this is the best case scenario for arguing about fair use with a monopolist like UMG, Google, or Spotify. As Engelberg puts it:
The Engelberg Center had an extraordinarily high level of interest in pursuing this issue, and legal confidence in our position that would have cost an average podcaster tens of thousands of dollars to develop. That cannot be what is required to challenge the removal of a podcast episode.
Automated takedown systems are the tech industry's answer to the "notice-and-takedown" system that was invented to broker a peace between copyright law and the internet, starting with the US's 1998 Digital Millennium Copyright Act. The DMCA implements (and exceeds) a pair of 1996 UN treaties, the WIPO Copyright Treaty and the Performances and Phonograms Treaty, and most countries in the world have some version of notice-and-takedown.
Big corporate rightsholders claim that notice-and-takedown is a gift to the tech sector, one that allows tech companies to get away with copyright infringement. They want a "strict liability" regime, where any platform that allows a user to post something infringing is liable for that infringement, to the tune of $150,000 in statutory damages.
Of course, there's no way for a platform to know a priori whether something a user posts infringes on someone's copyright. There is no registry of everything that is copyrighted, and of course, fair use means that there are lots of ways to legally reproduce someone's work without their permission (or even when they object). Even if every person who ever has trained or ever will train as a copyright lawyer worked 24/7 for just one online platform to evaluate every tweet, video, audio clip and image for copyright infringement, they wouldn't be able to touch even 1% of what gets posted to that platform.
The "compromise" that the entertainment industry wants is automated takedown – a system like Content ID, where rightsholders register their copyrights and platforms block anything that matches the registry. This "filternet" proposal became law in the EU in 2019 with Article 17 of the Digital Single Market Directive:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/09/today-europe-lost-internet-now-we-fight-back
This was the most controversial directive in EU history, and – as experts warned at the time – there is no way to implement it without violating the GDPR, Europe's privacy law, so now it's stuck in limbo:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/05/eus-copyright-directive-still-about-filters-eus-top-court-limits-its-use
As critics pointed out during the EU debate, there are so many problems with filternets. For one thing, these copyright filters are very expensive: remember that Google has spent $100m on Content ID alone, and that only does a fraction of what filternet advocates demand. Building the filternet would cost so much that only the biggest tech monopolists could afford it, which is to say, filternets are a legal requirement to keep the tech monopolists in business and prevent smaller, better platforms from ever coming into existence.
Filternets are also incapable of telling the difference between similar files. This is especially problematic for classical musicians, who routinely find their work blocked or demonetized by Sony Music, which claims performances of all the most important classical music compositions:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/08/copyfraud/#beethoven-just-wrote-music
Content ID can't tell the difference between your performance of "The Goldberg Variations" and Glenn Gould's. For classical musicians, the best case scenario is to have their online wages stolen by Sony, who fraudulently claim copyright to their recordings. The worst case scenario is that their video is blocked, their channel deleted, and their names blacklisted from ever opening another account on one of the monopoly platforms.
But when it comes to free expression, the role that notice-and-takedown and filternets play in the creative industries is really a sideshow. In creating a system of no-evidence-required takedowns, with no real consequences for fraudulent takedowns, these systems are huge gift to the world's worst criminals. For example, "reputation management" companies help convicted rapists, murderers, and even war criminals purge the internet of true accounts of their crimes by claiming copyright over them:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/23/reputation-laundry/#dark-ops
Remember how during the covid lockdowns, scumbags marketed junk devices by claiming that they'd protect you from the virus? Their products remained online, while the detailed scientific articles warning people about the fraud were speedily removed through false copyright claims:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/18/labor-shortage-discourse-time/#copyfraud
Copyfraud – making false copyright claims – is an extremely safe crime to commit, and it's not just quack covid remedy peddlers and war criminals who avail themselves of it. Tech giants like Adobe do not hesitate to abuse the takedown system, even when that means exposing millions of people to spyware:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/13/theres-an-app-for-that/#gnash
Dirty cops play loud, copyrighted music during confrontations with the public, in the hopes that this will trigger copyright filters on services like Youtube and Instagram and block videos of their misbehavior:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/10/duke-sucks/#bhpd
But even if you solved all these problems with filternets and takedown, this system would still choke on fair use and other copyright exceptions. These are "fact intensive" questions that the world's top experts struggle with (as anyone who watches the Blurred Lines panel can see). There's no way we can get software to accurately determine when a use is or isn't fair.
That's a question that the entertainment industry itself is increasingly conflicted about. The Blurred Lines judgment opened the floodgates to a new kind of copyright troll – grifters who sued the record labels and their biggest stars for taking the "vibe" of songs that no one ever heard of. Musicians like Ed Sheeran have been sued for millions of dollars over these alleged infringements. These suits caused the record industry to (ahem) change its tune on fair use, insisting that fair use should be broadly interpreted to protect people who made things that were similar to existing works. The labels understood that if "vibe rights" became accepted law, they'd end up in the kind of hell that the rest of us enter when we try to post things online – where anything they produce can trigger takedowns, long legal battles, and millions in liability:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/08/oh-why/#two-notes-and-running
But the music industry remains deeply conflicted over fair use. Take the curious case of Katy Perry's song "Dark Horse," which attracted a multimillion-dollar suit from an obscure Christian rapper who claimed that a brief phrase in "Dark Horse" was impermissibly similar to his song "A Joyful Noise."
Perry and her publisher, Warner Chappell, lost the suit and were ordered to pay $2.8m. While they subsequently won an appeal, this definitely put the cold grue up Warner Chappell's back. They could see a long future of similar suits launched by treasure hunters hoping for a quick settlement.
But here's where it gets unbelievably weird and darkly funny. A Youtuber named Adam Neely made a wildly successful viral video about the suit, taking Perry's side and defending her song. As part of that video, Neely included a few seconds' worth of "A Joyful Noise," the song that Perry was accused of copying.
In court, Warner Chappell had argued that "A Joyful Noise" was not similar to Perry's "Dark Horse." But when Warner had Google remove Neely's video, they claimed that the sample from "Joyful Noise" was actually taken from "Dark Horse." Incredibly, they maintained this position through multiple appeals through the Content ID system:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/05/warner-chappell-copyfraud/#warnerchappell
In other words, they maintained that the song that they'd told the court was totally dissimilar to their own was so indistinguishable from their own song that they couldn't tell the difference!
Now, this question of vibes, similarity and fair use has only gotten more intense since the takedown of Neely's video. Just this week, the RIAA sued several AI companies, claiming that the songs the AI shits out are infringingly similar to tracks in their catalog:
https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/record-labels-sue-music-generators-suno-and-udio-1235042056/
Even before "Blurred Lines," this was a difficult fair use question to answer, with lots of chewy nuances. Just ask George Harrison:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/My_Sweet_Lord
But as the Engelberg panel's cohort of dueling musicologists and renowned copyright experts proved, this question only gets harder as time goes by. If you listen to that panel (if you can listen to that panel), you'll be hard pressed to come away with any certainty about the questions in this latest lawsuit.
The notice-and-takedown system is what's known as an "intermediary liability" rule. Platforms are "intermediaries" in that they connect end users with each other and with businesses. Ebay and Etsy and Amazon connect buyers and sellers; Facebook and Google and Tiktok connect performers, advertisers and publishers with audiences and so on.
For copyright, notice-and-takedown gives platforms a "safe harbor." A platform doesn't have to remove material after an allegation of infringement, but if they don't, they're jointly liable for any future judgment. In other words, Youtube isn't required to take down the Engelberg Blurred Lines panel, but if UMG sues Engelberg and wins a judgment, Google will also have to pay out.
During the adoption of the 1996 WIPO treaties and the 1998 US DMCA, this safe harbor rule was characterized as a balance between the rights of the public to publish online and the interest of rightsholders whose material might be infringed upon. The idea was that things that were likely to be infringing would be immediately removed once the platform received a notification, but that platforms would ignore spurious or obviously fraudulent takedowns.
That's not how it worked out. Whether it's Sony Music claiming to own your performance of "Fur Elise" or a war criminal claiming authorship over a newspaper story about his crimes, platforms nuke first and ask questions never. Why not? If they ignore a takedown and get it wrong, they suffer dire consequences ($150,000 per claim). But if they take action on a dodgy claim, there are no consequences. Of course they're just going to delete anything they're asked to delete.
This is how platforms always handle liability, and that's a lesson that we really should have internalized by now. After all, the DMCA is the second-most famous intermediary liability system for the internet – the most (in)famous is Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act.
This is a 27-word law that says that platforms are not liable for civil damages arising from their users' speech. Now, this is a US law, and in the US, there aren't many civil damages from speech to begin with. The First Amendment makes it very hard to get a libel judgment, and even when these judgments are secured, damages are typically limited to "actual damages" – generally a low sum. Most of the worst online speech is actually not illegal: hate speech, misinformation and disinformation are all covered by the First Amendment.
Notwithstanding the First Amendment, there are categories of speech that US law criminalizes: actual threats of violence, criminal harassment, and committing certain kinds of legal, medical, election or financial fraud. These are all exempted from Section 230, which only provides immunity for civil suits, not criminal acts.
What Section 230 really protects platforms from is being named to unwinnable nuisance suits by unscrupulous parties who are betting that the platforms would rather remove legal speech that they object to than go to court. A generation of copyfraudsters have proved that this is a very safe bet:
https://www.techdirt.com/2020/06/23/hello-youve-been-referred-here-because-youre-wrong-about-section-230-communications-decency-act/
In other words, if you made a #MeToo accusation, or if you were a gig worker using an online forum to organize a union, or if you were blowing the whistle on your employer's toxic waste leaks, or if you were any other under-resourced person being bullied by a wealthy, powerful person or organization, that organization could shut you up by threatening to sue the platform that hosted your speech. The platform would immediately cave. But those same rich and powerful people would have access to the lawyers and back-channels that would prevent you from doing the same to them – that's why Sony can get your Brahms recital taken down, but you can't turn around and do the same to them.
This is true of every intermediary liability system, and it's been true since the earliest days of the internet, and it keeps getting proven to be true. Six years ago, Trump signed SESTA/FOSTA, a law that allowed platforms to be held civilly liable by survivors of sex trafficking. At the time, advocates claimed that this would only affect "sexual slavery" and would not impact consensual sex-work.
But from the start, and ever since, SESTA/FOSTA has primarily targeted consensual sex-work, to the immediate, lasting, and profound detriment of sex workers:
https://hackinghustling.org/what-is-sesta-fosta/
SESTA/FOSTA killed the "bad date" forums where sex workers circulated the details of violent and unstable clients, killed the online booking sites that allowed sex workers to screen their clients, and killed the payment processors that let sex workers avoid holding unsafe amounts of cash:
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2022/09/fight-overturn-fosta-unconstitutional-internet-censorship-law-continues
SESTA/FOSTA made voluntary sex work more dangerous – and also made life harder for law enforcement efforts to target sex trafficking:
https://hackinghustling.org/erased-the-impact-of-fosta-sesta-2020/
Despite half a decade of SESTA/FOSTA, despite 15 years of filternets, despite a quarter century of notice-and-takedown, people continue to insist that getting rid of safe harbors will punish Big Tech and make life better for everyday internet users.
As of now, it seems likely that Section 230 will be dead by then end of 2025, even if there is nothing in place to replace it:
https://energycommerce.house.gov/posts/bipartisan-energy-and-commerce-leaders-announce-legislative-hearing-on-sunsetting-section-230
This isn't the win that some people think it is. By making platforms responsible for screening the content their users post, we create a system that only the largest tech monopolies can survive, and only then by removing or blocking anything that threatens or displeases the wealthy and powerful.
Filternets are not precision-guided takedown machines; they're indiscriminate cluster-bombs that destroy anything in the vicinity of illegal speech – including (and especially) the best-informed, most informative discussions of how these systems go wrong, and how that blocks the complaints of the powerless, the marginalized, and the abused.
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Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/27/nuke-first/#ask-questions-never
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Image: EFF https://www.eff.org/files/banner_library/yt-fu-1b.png
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
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droopycoquette · 1 year ago
Text
WAG Life || Lucy Bronze x Reader
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Summary: Lucy’s obsessed with the idea of you being her WAG
Warnings: established relationship, smut, strap-on, lucy having a domestic kink
Word Count: 2.6k
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The plane rocked back and forth due to turbulence as Lucy scrolled through her Instagram feed and her heart stopped when she saw her girlfriend. Instantly liking it, she thumbed through the photos of the recent post. It was mainly pictures of you at the women’s World Cup but she felt herself pause when she saw one; a photo of you cooking. She could feel herself heating up but it all came to a point when she read your caption: 
Living my best WAG life.
She had always liked the idea of you being her little wife in the stands cheering her on and not having to work for anything. Only taking care of her, never wanting for anything, and relying solely on her. It was enough to make Lucy combust. You had no idea what you were doing to her, playing right into her fantasy without even realizing it.
"Fuck," she mumbled to herself.
As she scrolled through your posts, she noticed that you had posted a lot more homemaking content. Pictures of you cooking, cleaning, or rearranging things. If she didn't know better, she would think you were doing these things on purpose.
"Lucy, we're touching down soon," Millie called.
"Okay," Lucy mutters, not taking her eyes off her phone, off of you.
Lucy's need to see you doubled. She couldn't wait to get to your shared apartment and just be with you. You were all she could think about when the plane touched down. You were all she could think about when she was driving to the apartment. And you were all she could think about as she walked up the stairs.
Her insides tingled as she approached the door, unlocking it quietly and entering the space. She could hear footsteps on the hardwood floors before she could see the person they belonged to.
"Lucy!"
"Darling!"
You flew into her arms without a second thought, forcing her to drop her luggage to be able to catch you. Lucy automatically brought her hands under your butt to support you, groaning when she realized you weren't wearing pants
"You're home," you sighed into her neck.
"Damn right, I am."
"I missed you," you mumbled into her skin.
"I missed you," Lucy grinned, making her way over to the kitchen counter. "You know what else I missed?"
She could feel you shake your head.
"Your kisses."
You brought your face out of her neck finally and looked at her.
"I missed kissing you," you confessed, bringing your lips closer to hers.
Lucy couldn't take it anymore, softly placing her lips onto yours. The kiss was sweet and gentle as if you both were afraid to break the other. Lucy softly set you on the counter, the cold marble against your bare skin causing you to shiver.
As the footballer breaks the kiss, she looks around the apartment.
The last time Lucy had been in the apartment, you both had just bought it. It was empty save for a TV, a sofa, and a queen bed in the shared room. Now, it looked completely different. It looked like a home.
"You've been working," Lucy gawks.
"Do you like it," you ask shyly. "I wanted you to come home to something nice. You've worked so har-
She cut you off as she connected your lips once more, not being able to be away from you for long. Lucy could feel her insides melting at your words. This is everything she ever wanted.
"Everything is perfect," Lucy whispered in between kisses, rubbing your bare thighs. "It's beautiful."
Lucy watched as you beamed at the praise, a smile gracing your features.
"I was about to get started on dinner," you began. "Is there anything specific you want?"
Lucy almost moans at your question, "No, anything you make will be good."
You nod, giving her one more peck before getting to work and shooing her off to put her luggage away.
When Lucy returns, she can't keep her eyes off of you. The raven-haired woman was forced to watch as you hummed and twirled around the kitchen, cooking for her. You were cooking for her. It was enough to drive her mad.
"Luce, do you want to help me," you ask with a smile.
"No. I enjoy watching you," Lucy says simply.
"Okay."
As she watched you it dawned on her, you were wearing her old kit, the number 2 and the name "Bronze" showing proudly on the back. You really did have no idea what you were doing. Completely out of touch with how much you were turning your girlfriend on. Lucy could feel herself growing wetter and wetter by the minute.
"I think I'm going to go take a shower, love."
"Okay, I think everything should be in the shower caddy on the side. And the towels are in the cupboard under the sink," you explain, turning around and wiping your hands on a towel.
Everything you were doing was doing something to Lucy and it kind of annoyed her. She needed you so bad.
"O-okay," she stuttered walking off to the bathroom.
As she undressed, Lucy couldn't help but continue to think about you. Your words, your actions, your touch, all of it made her want you more and more. She turned the water on and stepped under the warm spray, closing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh. It felt amazing to be home and with you again.
She can't help but replay the scene in her head. You were cooking for her, taking care of her. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have you in her life. The steam filled up the bathroom as she lathered her body with soap. After a little bit, she hops out and quickly dresses in a sports bra and sweatpants.
She rounds the corner with her hands in her pockets and is greeted with a set table and you doing the dishes. She leans against the wall and watches you for a bit, nipping at her bottom lip and adjusting her glasses as she thinks. You hadn't noticed her yet, your attention focused on cleaning. So focused that you didn't notice her coming up behind you until you felt her hand around your waist and the other around your throat.
"Hello," you smile, the hand around your neck forcing you into an arch to face her.
"Hello," she smirked back, pecking your lips. "I was hoping you would join me in the shower."
"I'm sorry," you frown. "How about we take one tomorrow morning."
If you can walk, Lucy thought to herself.
"I love you being like this," Lucy sighs, releasing your neck and allowing you to turn and face her.
"Like what," you asked confused, loving the feeling of her arms around your waist.
"Like my little housewife," she sighs. "I love that you don't have to work and that you can just be home, taking care of me."
"I love doing it," you reply, wrapping your arms loosely around her neck.
After a beat of silence, you ask, "What are you thinking about?"
"You," Lucy whispers.
Her eyes stayed on yours as your breath hitched. You raised yourself up on your toes to shyly peck her lips, your hands loosely playing with strands of her hair Her hands trail from your waist to her shoulder blades.
"Jump."
You obey and wrap your legs around her waist, your lips automatically finding hers in a rough heated kiss. She devoured you, her tongue intermingling with yours as she did. She carried you to your shared bedroom, setting you down against the wall.
"What are you doing to me," Lucy asked, her accent thick.
You stared at her with doe eyes, confusion clouding them.
"Fuck, you've ruined me. I can't describe it. But, you've ruined me for anyone else."
You groan as she kisses your neck, her body pressed against yours firmly. Your moans only fueled her as she descended down to your core. Glancing up at you, she smirks as your brain begins to fizzle out, she can see it.
"What's got you so worked up, love," Lucy asks, her nose rubbing against your clothed slit. "Tell me."
"Fuck," you whimpered, your back pressing against the wall.
"I won't do anything until you tell me."
You gasp as her thumbs press against your hip bones, her hands holding the small of your back.
"Fuck," you whimpered. "I love being your housewife. It makes me feel really good."
Lucy moans into your thighs at your confession, her own thighs pressing together. Still kneeling, she raises herself up to kiss your stomach. Placing little pecks on your skin causing you to buck forward.
"Yeah? What else?"
"And, I love," you gasp as Lucy's tongue drags against your clothed core. "I love how you take care of me and how I don't have to think when you're around."
Lucy watched as you began to grind yourself onto her tongue, your hips shaking as your clit caught on the ridge of her wet muscle. She couldn't move as she watched in pure shock and awe. How were you so perfect? It was as if you were reading her mind.
Lucy's fingers hooked on your underwear as her eyes found yours. A smirk found its way onto her lips as your eyes quickly looked somewhere else, unable to handle the intensity. Cute.
Lucy slowly pulled your underwear down your legs, flinging them somewhere over her shoulder. You began to take your shirt off.
"No, love. Keep it on. Please keep it on," Lucy begged.
Your hands dropped the hem of the kit immediately.
"Love seeing you in this, baby," Lucy breathed, lifting one of your legs onto her shoulder. "Can't wait to fucking make you a Bronze."
You shuddered against her as her nose rubbed against your clit, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. Your hands moved to her hair, gripping it, keeping your girlfriend in place as her tongue lapped at your clit. You couldn't stop the sounds coming from your mouth, your head falling back against the wall.
You whimpered as your hips bucked up into her face. Lucy cooed at your embarrassment, smirking as you brought your hands up to your face.
You were the cutest little thing ever, your mouth open as you threw your head back against the wall. Lucy's fingers finally entered you, stroking your walls in a way that had your juices running down her arm.
"Look at that," Lucy groaned, lips still coated in you. "Did you need me that bad?"
"Please," you whimpered, hips bucking into her face.
"Please what," Lucy panted. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you baby. But you have to tell me."
"Hm? I can't hear you, love. You're gonna have to speak up."
"Fuck me, please," you gasped, as Lucy tapped on your clit.
Her muscles bulged as she stood, now towering over you.
"That wasn't so hard, now was it?"
She lifted you up, wrapping your legs around her waist before connecting your lips. She was sure you felt it, the bulge in her sweats. Just to be sure, she began to grind her hips into you, loving the way you moaned into the kiss.
You knew Lucy loved wearing her strap around the apartment so you don't know why it shocked you. You had missed this feeling. Her tongue entered your mouth, wrapping around yours and deepening the kiss. You didn't know whose breath was who's.
You whimpered as she sat you down on the edge of the bed.
"Get on all fours for me," she commanded her accent coming out even more. "Don't fucking make me wait."
You're breath hitches at her roughness, immediately complying. Slowly moving to your knees in the the center of the bed. Your chest rose and fell rapidly from the anticipation as you felt the bed dip from Lucy's weight.
Lucy couldn't stop the warmth that spread through her chest at the sight of your eager submission to her. The way you slightly wiggled your hips in need, you didn't even realize you were doing it.
The older woman stroked the black silicone toy, groaning as if she could feel it. Tapping it on your entrance, she watched as a string of your juices connected the toy and your core.
"You don't even know how fucking hot you are, love."
You both groaned as Lucy pushed into you slowly, your back arching.
She began to pump into you, her hips grinding into you at a pace that was slow, yet deep. She loved watching your head hang and your hips push back against her in ecstasy at her slow but hard thrusts.
The defender leaned down to kiss your nape, her skin burning yours. She could hear your sharp and breathy whimpers and it drove her to pound into you.
She had missed this dearly. Your sounds and need for her. She missed her ability to touch you whenever she wanted, claiming you as hers.
"I don't know how I went this long without you," she groaned into your ear, her fingers reaching down to your clit.
You bucked up against her at the sensation, your stomach beginning to tighten. Lucy watched you with fervor, gazing as you took what she gave you. You were perfect, just for her.
Her fingers continued to rub against you and her hips rocked slowly.
"Please cum," she begged. "I want it so bad."
Your back arched as her fingers got rougher.
"Fuck," you groaned, throwing your head back.
Lucy's thrusts began to quicken, becoming harsher. She needed your pleasure and wanted to see you come undone. Lucy had always put your pleasure above anything else and right now was no different.
"Give it to me, my love."
Her begging continued to spur you on, your gut reaching its boiling point. You came harshly, Lucy's hips milking your bliss and lengthening your orgasm.
Her movements didn't stop. Instead, she flipped you over, your body slamming into the bed.
"I'll never get over watching you cum," she moaned, her clit catching on the strap.
Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you down to meet her thrusts. Her fingertips dug into the fat of your hips, loving the flesh between them.
You watched her arms flex as she held you down, her biceps on display. Sweat rolled down her quivering abdomen as she continued to pleasure you.
"Please," you groaned out, your body still spasming.
"Please what, sweetheart," Lucy smiled, her hips continuing to slam into you, leaving a burning sensation on the back of your thighs. "Tell me what you want. Do you want me here?"
She allowed her fingers to return to your clit, tapping gently against the small nub. You gasped out at the overstimulation.
"You always were so needy," she grinned. "And I've always loved it."
"Lucy, please," you babbled, your body writhing beneath her. "A break, please."
She pouted mockingly and continued to thrust in and out of you.
"You want to be my little WAG in the stand, right? My little trophy wife?"
You nod, your cheeks heating, "Yes."
"Well, then you have to keep me happy. And what would make me really happy, baby, is for you to keep taking this cock."
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