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#Brit banter
grbambi63 · 10 months
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I did a quick edit of all the Lando-George parts of the Drivers guess 2023 ratings from youtube
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plugnuts · 1 year
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Y’know, living in Scotland and hearing the name Craig being said one way for basically my whole life and then watching South Park and hearing it be said a completely different way is SO bizarre. We say it like Kr-ay-g, as it’s the way it should be pronounced, but the show says Cr-e-g which always throws me. Different countries, different pronunciations of course, but it’s still so bizarre
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tallymali · 10 months
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actually i think we should just embrace the chaos of the english language. its a bunch of other languages in a trench coat and its so widely spoken in so many different dialects of course its gonna be a mess. peace and love on planet earth <3
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scarletlizzard · 4 days
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I followed for your writing and stayed for the interactions between you and 🫖
Sadly, I completely understand and hope you enjoy the humiliation that little Brit continuously taunts me with. (Hope you stay for the writing too!)
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jlf23tumble · 1 year
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I just don't understand larries, they're going crazy because in the times interview it said something about JC telling louis not to disappear on him. Now they're all celebrating and excited saying that harry's 'satellite' and louis' 'holding on to heartache' songs are responding to each other, and I'm just here reading the lyrics to both songs and they don't sound hopeful to me and it sounds like a really messed up relationship that has or will probably lead to a break up unless communication issues are fixed. Meanwhile Larries think it's so romantic, and of course they've never broken up. It just amazes me that the songs clearly point to a messed up relationship and they just ignore it and say they've never broken up, never slept with anyone else etc. I even saw someone say they think they broke up for 2 years but they didn't sleep with anyone else in that time. I just lose faith in humanity.
YEAH, I'm feelin' this kinda way, too, especially as someone did the whole satellite/holding on to heartache lyric drop in my inbox, and I'm thinking, mannnn, I'm gonna suggest you take another spin through the satellite/boyfriends/love of my life triumvirate if we're gonna play this game, as well as miss you/always you/lucky again, and about 10 other songs between the 2 of them across 4 albums. A quick lurk tells me the hashtag they never broke up crowd is still goin' strong, though, so just proof that we all live by our own stories, eh?
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lonelycowgirls · 8 months
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As a gal who loves being British and loves British humour and someone who sometimes forgets Harry’s British, I LOVE the Joe Lycett interaction
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sebscore · 1 year
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gen-z driver getting interviewed by jenson and all the drivers making fun of her for stumbling over her words
BE YOUR WINGMAN
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pairings: jenson button x driver!reader / daniel ricciardo x driver!reader / sebastian vettel x driver!reader
warnings: I don’t think there are any (?).
author’s note: been wanting to do this one for a while now, I’m not totally proud of it, but wanted to share it anyway! hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think of it!
masterlist
• • • • • • •
“Yeah, no points today, but I’m confident we’re able to bounce back next weekend.” Daniel answered Jenson’s question on how the race went.
The Sky F1 booth was crowded with Jenson Button, Martin Brundle and Natalie Pinkham interviewing both Daniel Ricciardo and Sebastian Vettel.
The three presenters nodded as his answer. “Seb, how about you?” Natalie turned the question to him.
“Eh, I think we could have scored more points today, we lost a lot of ground,” he had the urge to roll his eyes at the reminder, “the pace was good, so we can take that to the next race.” He finished up, politely.
Martin was about to change the subject, but Daniel pointed to something behind the camera which caught everyone’s attention. “Look who it is!”
“Y/N! Come on up here!” Natalie called the young woman over, who was visibly embarrassed as she simply wanted to pass through to go to her team’s hospitality.
The driver shook her head, waving her hands that she wanted to leave, but no one was having it. “I’ll let you stand next to Jenson, Y/N!” Daniel grinned from ear to ear.
One of the producers handed her a mic and she was practically pushed onto the small podium by her PR assistant.
Y/N quickly greeted everyone, giving Sebastian and Daniel a side hug. She wanted to stand in-between her two colleagues, but they moved themselves so she was right next to Jenson.
Her “crush” on the former World Champion had been a running joke ever since she was a rookie. It started with an old interview of an 11 year-old Y/N saying that one of her life goals was to marry Jenson Button.
“Y/N, you had a much better race than your friends over here, P4, how are you feeling now?” Martin asked her.
She took a deep breath before answering. “Uh, too bad to miss the podium, especially cause the gap was very small. I’m excited for next week, though and, uh, yeah.” She awkward wrapped up, a bit too flustered with her close proximity to the Brit next to her.
“Besides the top 2, it was a very close race today and I think you did everything you could, so well done.” Jenson complimented her, looking directly at her.
Y/N nervously avoided his eyes, deciding to focus on something in the far distance. “Oh, uh, t-thank you.” She stuttered.
The red tint on her cheeks and ears didn’t go unnoticed. “She’s gone very red.” Sebastian teased, pointing at the younger one.
Everyone at the panel turned towards her and chuckled at her trying to cover her cheeks. “A small tomato.” Martin joked.
“It’s just very warm here.” Y/N defended herself, but everyone knew it wasn’t the weather.
Daniel nudged her shoulder. “She’s been very sad the past few weeks, cause Jenson announced he’s getting married soon.” The Australian continued the teasing.
Her hands covered her face again as everyone laughed at her despair. “Poor Y/N, she wasn’t able to fulfill one of her dreams.” Natalie commented, a bright smile on her face knowing the viewers were loving this.
“She still has time.” Daniel added, having too much fun at the moment. “You have a few more months.” He glanced at her.
“Shut up, Daniel!” Y/N jokingly slapped his arm to everyone’s amusement at their banter.
The McLaren driver simply laughed as he put his hands on both of her shoulders. “I’m trying to be your wingman here.”
“I don’t think she needs one.” Sebastian said into the microphone, looking at the pair.
“Y/N, do you often take Daniel with you when you’re looking for a potential partner?” Natalie asked her, although it was obvious she wasn’t looking for a serious answer.
The young driver jokingly rolled her eyes. “Not anymore, he scares everyone away with his weird noises.” She teased the Australian back.
“I think they’re very effective!” Daniel argued.
“They’re effective if the purpose is to keep me single forever.” Y/N but back.
The two went back-and-forth with each other for a few more minutes. Sebastian and Jenson watched in amusement, while Natalie and Martin tried to subtly interrupt so they could wrap up the segment.
“Any plans left for tonight or straight onto the plane?” Martin asked them.
“Plane!” Sebastian and Daniel chorused. Jenson glanced at the girl next to him. “And you, Y/N?”
“I’m gonna dig a hole and throw myself in it after we’re done here.” She answered, her monotone voice making everyone laugh at her answer.
Daniel couldn’t help but throw one last remark at her. “You probably want Jenson to join you in there.”
Y/N waved at the camera as soon as the words left his mouth. “Goodnight, everyone!” The whole panel cackled as they watched her leave. “See you all next week!”
She walked off the platform and gave the microphone back to the producers. Y/N waved at everyone from behind the camera, not wanting to be rude and leave without a proper goodbye.
“She’s going to dig that hole now.” Sebastian commented, a grin on his face.
Jenson chuckled. “She’ll probably throw Daniel in it instead of herself.”
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sprout-fics · 7 months
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Poly TF141 x Omega! Reader Headcanons
(Poly TF14 x F! Omega Reader)
(Part Eleven: Pack Bonds)
Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Hidden designations, Alpha! John Price, Alpha! Simon 'Ghost' Riley, Beta! Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, Omega! John 'Soap' MacTavish, Omega F! Reader, Group dynamics, Poly TF141, Slow burn, Courting rituals, Cuddling, Mating cycles/In heat, Brat! John 'Soap' Mactavish, Character studies, Polyamory
Masterlist
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In the soft light of morning, Johnny tells you of his mates
You ask him about them, while you’re tucked into his chest, his hand ceaselessly kneading little circles into the knob of your spine, body warm and heavy, entirely satisfied from the night before and blissfully comfortable against him
He does, he tells you about the three other men on the team, about his cherished mates
Gaz is gentle, sweet, takes his time with you, and despite the tenderness of it coupling with him is no less of an intense affair. Gaz has the unique talent to know exactly what the other’s triggers are, to adapt and change tactics easily. He’s desperate to please, and it’s by far his most endearing trait
His stamina is by far his most dangerous trait, and you squirm with a warm flush as Soap recounts how Gaz fucked him stupid for the better part of half an hour with a steady, firm set of his hips, smiling wickedly down at the Scot as Johnny slowly lost his bravado and entered into something beyond wordlessness
Gaz is happier bottoming than topping, and between the three of them it’s an easy thing to accomplish. He reacts differently to each partner. For Soap it’s teasing, playful, two comrades wrestling and tousling and yanking at each other to reveal tender flesh on which to suck blighting bruises. They gasp and heave, palming at each other in the showers, quick kisses and bites stolen behind the bleachers of the track, hands slapping on each other’s asses in flirtatious teasing as they pass each other in the hall
For Price, Gaz is good, lovely, eyes shining with adoration as his captain indulges in him so sweetly, so reverently Gaz seems to be left dopey with it for days after. Price can be either achingly gentle or will make his sergeant hiccup and grip the sheets, shaking his head when Price offers to slow or stop. Price was Gaz’s first, and Gaz harbors a soft affection for him in a way he doesn’t with the others
For Ghost, Gaz is tender, hands himself willingly to the other Brit, knows the weakness in Ghost’s soul as his own. His sympathetic nature allows Ghost to mold him into the thing he desires, knowing he’ll be treated well in turn. While Soap will tease and banter and ensure Ghost manhandles him into the sheets, Gaz will coax Ghost instead, will talk him tenderly into something resembling docility, a vulnerability that is rare for a man so haunted by his past. Yet Gaz is acutely aware of of the power, the intensity and enrapturing force of the lieutenant, trusting him wholly but never failing to be stupefied by the aftershocks for days after
Price- Soap shivers pleasantly when he speaks of Price- is a lethal mix of firm, authoritative possessiveness and overwhelming attention. The captain knows exactly what he wants, and he knows how to obtain it willingly from his partners. The man has the blessing of experience, and he displays it in the way he knows to wreck the others, presses them into docility and complete surrender while lavishing devastating praise onto them
While Ghost affectionately indulges in Soap’s antics, Price knows how to make Soap behave, beg for him in wordless little cries. If the recruits and other soldiers on base see Soap oddly well-mannered for a few days afterwards, well, Soap will never outwardly admit who is responsible
They take care of their captain, knows when the burden of duty weighs too heavy on his shoulders. It’s Gaz, more often than not, who is the balm to the scars Price carries, is receptive and cathartic in his sweet embraces of the older man. Soap has on several occasions walked past Price’s room during a rough week to hear the smoky sigh of Price’s voice saying “Good. Good boy, Kyle.”
Price’s rut is more controlled than Simon’s, but no less possessive. The man is a beast during his cycle, growling while also gingerly hushing Soap or Gaz (sometimes even both) into the mattress below as his hips slap mercilessly against them. There’s a double edged sword to the captain that’s caught between tenderness and control, a desperate desire to defend and protect that sometimes has his growl a low, threatening vibration should either sergeant attempt to leave his bed
(You squirm a little at that, wondering if Price might ever let you experience that himself)
Price rarely bottoms, preferring instead to be the deliverer of sinful devastation to his mates, but he isn’t opposed to it. It’s a rare thing, but Price will allow one of his boys to fuck him open, but will continue to growl a sensous mixture of authority and praise at them all the while
Soap tells you that even though he and the others are allowed the rare treat of topping Price, it still somehow feels like they’re still under his grasp the whole time.
Soap smiles dreamily when he speaks of Ghost, and you tease him for it, for looking like an infatuated schoolboy dreaming of his first love. Yet when he rolls his eyes you bump your nose under his jaw, scenting him and listening to him huff happily
Ghost appears at the textbook definition of an alpha. Towering, strong, packed with rigid muscle. He commands attention with his presence, has a violence in him that models him as the ultimate killer. He’s the kind of alpha you were terrified of as a younger omega, the kind that feels as if he’ll take and take, man-handle you into submission and snarl at anyone who dares challenge him. Territorial, overwhelming, dangerous
Johnny thought much the same of Ghost when they first met, was playful and pleasant in front of his LT as he tried to hide the anxiety that pulsed just beneath the surface, fearful of the alpha fulfilling the stereotype of aggressive alphas trying to take what they think they’re entitled to. 
Yet Ghost was the first one to figure out Johnny’s true designation, and when he did he was softly spoken, reassuring, disarmingly sympathetic in a way that nestled into Soap’s heart. He had developed a crush on the alpha soon after, one that formed into a casual request for aid during his heats, which Ghost was happy to fulfill. Eventually their casual relationship evolved into something so much more, and though the road wasn’t easy, Johnny now knows Ghost is his, and that he will always be Ghost’s.
The rest came later, the intersection with Gaz and Price that blossomed into what it is now. Ghost and Price had history together, similar to Soap and Gaz’s boyish tumbling in bed, and yet so very different. It means Ghost trusts his mates wholly and completely, and the team knows that the gift of such trust from Simon is a sacred, almost religious thing to earn
It also means Ghost is extremely attentive to his partners. Like Price, there is an alpha edge to him that isn’t easy to shake, has him trying to gentle his partners in bed, render them docile and fisting the sheets with pleasure. Soap says it scratches Simon’s hindbrain to know his partners are intensely satisfied, and that coupling with Ghost is hardly ever less than a whirlwind of sensation and need, something that rarely fails to leave him breathless, face down in the pillows, body heavy with multiple orgasms
“Fuckin’ beast, him.” Johnny grumbles, as if he’s reluctant to admit it, as if he’s challenged Ghost with his bratty attitude and been handled into submission every time
Ghost is typically the one to assist Johnny with his heats, and by this point knows Johnny well enough to read every minute motion and gesture from the omega. Though Ghost won’t say it out loud, the man is deeply possessive over his mates, proves himself capable as a provider in not only protecting them, but offering whatever they need for their cycles. He’s the model of a loving mate, even if you have to endure the edge of brooding silence and whiplash sarcasm that comes with him
(You know this is what Johnny loves the most about him)
On the infrequent occasions that the four of them end up in bed together, the presence of two alphas is rarely an issue. Price and Ghost trust each other enough to not be territorial, as they are mates as well. The two play off each other’s strengths, are a force combined between them
It’s rare, but clashes do threaten to happen sometimes, things based entirely in instinct and fueled by the rush of hormones present only in heat or rut. If Simon growls at Price for touching Soap or Gaz during his rut, the more experienced alpha knows how to soothe Simon’s possessive temper into something a little less base
In turn, should Price ever bare his teeth or posture at Ghost in challenge, Gaz and Soap know how to act as intermediaries between the two, talking them down until peace is made once more
It’s rare, but it does sometimes happen, and is fairly inevitable with two alphas on the same team, even if they are mates. However, no amount of alpha territoriality or instinct is enough to break the bonds between the pack, and though there are disagreements, petty conflicts, the four of them have long ago agreed that there’s nobody else for them
And then there’s you
And you can’t help but ask yourself: “How do I fit into all this?”
“Wherever you need to.” Soap replies softly, bracing his forehead with yours, the two of you still tangled in his sheets. “You’re part of the pack, hen. Wherever you fit is where you are welcome. We’ll make it work.”
You smile, kiss him for that, and you taste his returning grin on your lips as he rolls over and reaches for you once more.
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spctrsgf · 10 months
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morning banter
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summary: something about you and marc? he wakes up early, and you most certainly do not.
word count: 1.2k
warnings: language, my shitty spanish (i’m trying okay)
a/n: took a quick break from b+h for a lil marc spector drabble!!! hope you all enjoy
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Es tan temprano para esta mierda, Marc. Jake’s annoyed Spanish drawl smacks into the side of Marc's head. The combination of his drowsy, slow mind and that Marc knew next to no spanish caused the said man’s eyebrows to crinkle. “What the fuck did you just say?” He can barely hear his own voice, but he knows Jake can.
Don’t worry about it.
“Jake.”
Marc. Only Jake would pitch up his name in a high voice: it’s a mimic.
“Hey! I don’t sound like that.”
Yeah you do.
“No, I don’t! Back me up, Steven.”
Don’t bring me into this. 
C’mon, Stevie— Jake cuts off abruptly, probably the doing of Steven.
“Jake,” Marc resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me what you said.”
Go to sleep, puta.
“Okay, I know that one,” Marc hisses, toiling you in closer to him. “Rude.”
You deserved it.
“You wanna know what you deserve?”
Oh, yeah, Jake taunts. What’s that?
“A fucking pun–”
His voice goes legato as soon as he senses you moving, causing him to fall silent. You curl tighter into a ball, spiraling the covers more into your fists and tucking them again beneath your chin. Jake, by some miracle, also goes quiet, as if somehow his words could expel themselves out of Marc’s mouth and to your ears. 
But, the soft exhales are the only noise you left out, and if you heard them, you didn’t show it. Marc’s shoulders roll back from where they were hunched, surely Steven’s gentle gesture to the position he hadn’t even realized he’d been in. 
Would it kill the two of you to just be nice to each other? The Brit muses. 
Absolutely. Jake’s response is automatic.
“One hundred percent true.” Marc chimes in.
HAH! Steven ejects the exclamation in triumph. Now I got the two of you agreeing.
“Sure, whatever.”
Only time we agree is when you finesse us into it, hermano.
Marc slides his arm out from where it was wrapped around your waist to give the two a thumbs up in agreement with Jake, reluctantly.
Or, he tried to.
“Noooooo…” You groan groggily, tightening your hold. 
Marc freezes. “Baby?”
“Mmmmm?” 
“I- I didn’t know you were aware.”
“Well,” you snuggle closer into his chest, his warm embrace. “You ‘n Steven ‘n Jake aren’t exactly quiet when you argue.”
He sighs, guilt pooling in his stomach. “Listen, ‘m sorry. You know how we can be.”
“Yeah, I do. And I love you all,” you reach back, squeezing his bicep reassuringly. “But I also love my beauty sleep.”
“You don’t need to sleep to be beautiful.” He ducks his head to place a featherlight kiss to your neck, savoring the sigh you let out in return.
“You’re sweet, but we both know that’s not true.”
“Do we?”
“Mhm,” you turn, nudging Marc’s arms off of you as you face him. “‘M a menace without it.”
“That’s true,” he chuckles when you slap his arm, letting out an effortlessly beautiful smile. “But it’s nothing a cup of nice, warm coffee can’t solve.”
You giggle softly. “That’s true.”
“C’mon, sleepyhead,” He moves to slide you both out from under the covers. “Let’s get going.”
“Nope.” You let him go, rolling to burrito yourself in the covers again. 
“Nope?” He inquires, rounding the bed to stand over you.
“Nope.”
His shadow covers your shut eyelids and you know he’s bent over your face. “I’ll make you coffee to apologize for waking you up, baby, I promise.” You scrunch your nose. “Tempting, but no.”
“Not even because I’m asking you?”
“Not even if you were on your knees and begging.”
“Oh?” The sentence your half asleep brain had kindled clearly took him by surprise. 
You huff, flipping over in the bed dramatically. “Go away, I’m tired.”
“What’s so great about this bed that I can’t give you, huh?”
“Well,” You take a deep breath, and some small, rational part of your brain tells you that maybe the spew of words about to come out of your mouth is what he wanted to happen all along. “The bed is warm. It’s cozy. The covers are just the right heaviness and just the right thickness to provide optimal warmth and the right amount of pressure to keep me sleeping like a bear in hibernation. ‘Nd my pillow is the right firmness, but has my desired amount of sink to put me out as soon as you turn off the light and wrap your arms around me. Even though that only happens sometimes.”
Marc huffs in frustration. “Hey!”
“Yeah, Marc, my bed is always here on time. It never goes anywhere, and the only life it’s saving is your sorry ass right now.”
“Uncalled for.” He runs a hand through his hair. 
“Thought you liked a bit of banter.”
“I like a kick or two,” He leans over and pulls your shoulders to level on the bed and your eyes to meet his own. “But not at eight in the fucking morning.”
“Neither do I,” You reach up, pulling his face in for a kiss.
He gives in almost immediately, setting a knee on either side of your legs and scooping his arms underneath your body to pull you up.
“Nuh uh,” you pull away and unwrap his arms, flopping back onto the bed. “Sleepy. Time to sleep.”
“You can't leave me hanging like that!”
You yawn, pulling the covers up to your chin again. “I can and I did.”
For a second, a naive, small second, you think he’s going to leave you be. Your brain relaxes, you feel yourself on the precipice of sleep, the hypnotic, rich swirl of unconsciousness sucking you deeper into its whirlpool. But then you feel the covers lift, and Marc’s— frighteningly cold— fingers are dancing along your sides to a tune you illustrate with laughs. You slap his hands away, reaching out towards the lure of sleep that now sneaks away to taint another victim.
“You ready to get out of bed now, sweets?”
You groan, turning to face him in defeat. “You fucker.”
He throws his arms mockingly. “What’d I do?”
“You manipulated me! I hate you.”
“I did no such thing. What are these accusations?”
“You knew I would get worked up,” you sit up in the bed now, and Marc shrinks ever so slightly under the weight of your deadly stare. “You knew that would wake me up.”
“Hey, let’s calm down–”
“You knew that if you pushed the right buttons, you would get what you wanted.”
Marc’s face is ghastly, and he looks two steps away from summoning his suit and flying away.
“I warned you earlier about this, Marc, were you listening?”
He nods frantically. “Of course–”
“I’m a menace when I get woken up early.” You launch off the bed, and you might as well be Moon Knight yourself with your accuracy.
The takeaway from this event? For Marc, it’s to never try waking you up before you’ve recharged fully, or to have some coffee made ahead of when he was to attempt it. For you, though?
It’s that Marc shrieks like a little girl. 
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translations (HELP I FORGOT):
es tan temprano para esta mierda - it’s too early for this shit
puta - bitch
i felt very fancy using these
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theemporium · 5 months
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You and Lando were far from subtle when it came to your feelings for the Spaniard. 
To be fair, the whole world knew about your boyfriend’s crush on his old teammate. Though most of them assumed it was a joke or an exaggeration, maybe even something both boys played into. But it was undoubtedly real. So fucking real, it was insane. 
It was hard for Lando to not fall in love. At first, the relationship between them was nurturing. Lando was young and new to the Formula One world, and Carlos took him right under his wing. He was kind and funny and made the boy feel at ease whenever he was around the Spaniard. And as the years passed, those feelings went from something platonic into something more and it was like a trainwreck Lando couldn’t stop from happening. He just had to sit there and accept his fate. 
And Lando loved you. There was no doubt in your mind that he loved you. But you weren’t blind, you saw the way he looked at Carlos even when he thought he was being sneaky. And after one too many drinks that made his lips loose, he had confessed his feelings for his friend. 
He loved you, but he couldn't stop loving Carlos either.
And it was like that night exposed you to a whole new side of the Spanish driver, like you were seeing him through Lando-coloured glasses. And you understood it. You understood why Lando fell so hard, because you were falling right there with him. 
But just like Lando, you were painfully obvious with your feelings. 
Everyone knew the two of you were in love with Carlos Sainz. Your friends knew you were in love with him. The fans knew you were in love with him. Hell, even Carlos knew you were in love with him.
And he loved it. He loved the way he had the two of you wrapped around his finger. He loved your attempts to make him fall. He loved the flirtatious banter, the random but strategic touchiness, the lingering gazes from across the room. He loved the fact you two were so wrapped up in your little game of seduction that you didn’t even realise your feelings were reciprocated.
But Carlos had no problem showing you and Lando just how he felt. 
“Look at you both, mis amores. So pretty on your knees for me.”
Carlos couldn’t help but adore the sight before him. Both of you on your knees before him, flushed cheeks and glossy eyes staring up at him. You were both so good for him, so obedient, so desperate to please him and make him feel good. 
“Tell me what you want,” Carlos commanded softly as his fingers threaded through Lando’s curls, tugging his hair back at the Brit let out a small whimper.
“You,” Lando breathed out as his eyes fluttered shut. “We want you.”
“You want me?” Carlos mused, his other hand leisurely stroking his cock as though he didn’t notice the way you both stared at him with such need. “Go on, mi amor. Show me how badly you want me.”
Lando didn’t hesitate as he leaned forward, his lips wrapping around the head of Carlos’ cock with his hands braced on his thighs. Carlos let out a groan, his head falling back as he kept his hand tangled in Lando’s curls as the Brit began to bob his head up and down.
You let out a whimper, squirming in your position as you clenched your thighs at the sight of your boyfriend taking the Spaniard’s cock down his throat. You glanced up, already finding Carlos staring down at you with a smirk on his lips.
“Touch him, princesa,” Carlos commanded. 
And you followed through with his order wordlessly, reaching down to take Lando’s cock in your hand. He whimpered around Carlos as you swiped your thumb over his sensitive, knowing just what made him crumble in seconds. 
But Carlos loved it. He loved feeling the Brit whine and moan around him. He loved seeing the way his hips bucked and the way his cock would hit the back of Lando’s throat every time the boy jerked forward from the pleasure. He loved the way the boy was whining and moaning when he tugged his head back, taking his cock in his own hand as he held it inches away from Lando’s face as he came.
Lando couldn’t hold himself back as he came, whimpering at his own sensitivity as you kept stroking him until every rope of cum had been milked from him. And the boy was spent, chest heaving for a breath as Carlos spilled all over his face and chest as he reached his edge as well. 
“Wanna be a good girl?” Carlos cooed, panting softly as he watched you glance between both boys with a look of desire.
You nodded. 
“Clean him up, amor,” Carlos commanded softly, smiling softly when you licked the cum off your own fingers first before you leaned over, not even shy or hesitant with the way you kissed your boyfriend despite the mess on his face.
He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the sight of the two of you messily making out, low groans and moans muffled by the kisses as you did just what he said until his hand on the backs of your heads made you pull away with a whimper.
“Mis amores,” he hummed in delight, his fingers itching to photograph the way your faces glistened with his release. “Is what you planned? Is this how you thought your seduction would work?”
Your lips parted in shock. “I—”
“Shh,” he shook his head, though the way his eyes darkened made your stomach twist in desire. “You’ve played your games, now I’m going to play mine. On the bed, both of you. And no touching each other unless I say. Understand?”
You both nodded. 
“Good. Bed. Now.”
.
789 notes · View notes
fangirl-dot-com · 4 months
Text
Chapter 10 - See ya next year Vegas
Holy heck, what was that race?? I almost had a heart attack multiple times. Surprise surprise, I am a Charlie fan through and through, and I haven’t witnessed him win a race yet (I became a fan right after Zandvoort this year). I would have loved to see him win. Oh well, there’s always next year (I’m crying on the inside). BUT THE OVERTAKE ON THE LAST LAP WHAT THE HECK I WAS IN TEARS. Also, I felt so bad for Lando, that impact seemed huge and I’m glad he’s ok! But here’s a chapter about Max’s 1837460382nd win this season.
The air of the track was buzzing with excitement. And so were you, for mostly the wrong reasons. You were currently hiding behind some tires, trying not to be spotted. You even thought that pulling the hood over would help you blend in better. Without you knowing, Max was staring right at you, trying to figure out what the heck you were doing. 
He was dressed in almost the same outfit that you had worn back on Thursday. You constantly teased him about the stark white race suit. You mentioned that you should have worn your outfit again, so that you could sneak into his car and race for him. He politely declined, saying that the team would have to pay a huge fine and they could not afford to go over the cost cap for next year, before it even started. You grumbled, but begrudgingly showed up in a Red Bull jacket and some shorts. 
Max decided to go talk to you, but not before he took a quick picture. He would never admit to already having an album on his photo app dedicated to you. He stomped over and tapped you on the shoulder. When he did, you let out a squeak, body doing a full screenshot. 
“Max! That was not nice!” You pouted and crossed your arms, before your eyes widened when you looked over his shoulder. You quickly turned away, but not before grabbing Max’s Elvis suit and pulling him closer to the tires. 
“What are you doing?” 
“Hiding.” He deadpanned and rolled his eyes. 
“I can see that. But why?” 
“Uh, well, you see. There’s uh…” You got cut off when Christian showed up right behind Max. He tapped Max and it was his turn to take a full body screen shot. He yelped and turned around, a snicker escaped from your lips. 
“Is there a reason both of my drivers are horribly hiding in the tires?” He put his hands on his hips. Total dad stance, but you would never say that to his face. Your cheeks heated up at the thought of being outed about how bad you were at hiding. 
Max turned to Christian, “Well, before you interrupted, she was about to say something.” The two men peered down at you and you lowered your eyes. 
“Uh, so, you know, there are a bunch of celebrities here. And there’s one I’ve always wanted to meet, but, you know…celebrity crush? Is that the right word?”  
You thought the Brit and Dutchman would start laughing at you, but they didn’t. They looked around the garage, trying to find the source of your embarrassment. Christian was thinking of how he could get you to go speak to said person. Max on the other hand, was wanting to get rid of the threat.
You gasped, “Ben Barnes is not a threat Maximillian!” You got a couple of looks from around the garage before you stepped closer to Max, not wanting to be seen. 
“One, that is not my name.” 
“Yes it is.” 
The two of you started to argue, and missed the fact that Christian had stepped away to go talk to the actor. They said a few words before Christian invited him into the garage. You and Max were still deep in the childlike banter, that you didn’t even realize that Ben and Christian were getting closer. 
“Ah, here is our lineup for the 2024 season. I believe that we have one of the finest drivers,” Christian put an emphasis on his words, trying to get his two “children” to stop fighting. You froze when you made eye contact with Ben. 
Max turned around and gave him a pained smile. If there was one thing he hated more than regular celebrities, it was celebrities that seemed to only come for a sponsorship and to actually not watch the race. You however, were completely enamored. Max wouldn’t go as far to say that your eyes were sparkling, but with all the lights, they basically were. 
“Hi, it’s very nice to meet you,” Ben said as he raised a hand for you to shake. You didn’t say anything and took his hand. Max elbowed your side and you glared up at him. 
“It’s uh, very nice to meet you too,” you paused, “I’m sorry about your show. I was really rooting for Netflix to renew it.” 
“Ah, so you’re a fan?” Ben smirked, Max did not like that. 
You scratched your neck, “You could say that.” You gave him a schoolgirl grin, Max did not like that. Max stood straighter and pretended to hear something. 
“Ah, that must be Mitch Y/n. I think she’s calling for you. Sorry man, but we need to get going,” Max draped an arm around you and maneuvered your body to where it was on the other side of him as you walked passed. 
You quickly said goodbye to Ben, before you walked with Max. 
Glaring at the driver, you said, “Mitch did not call me. What are you on? Do you need to get your ears checked grandpa?” 
Max huffed. “I did not like the way he was looking at you.” 
Your heart almost melted, but it was replaced with annoyance. “Max, the man is 42. He’s old enough to be dad.” 
“Still. I didn’t like it.” 
“Aw you big softie,” you gave him a hug, before smirking and whispering, “although I wouldn’t mind being an unconventionally young wife.” You unlatched yourself and ran to the other side of the garage, where Mitch actually was. 
Max looked like he was having an aneurism before he shook his head. “Kid!” 
You managed to evade Max’s anger by pinky-promising him that you won’t get married anytime soon, especially to actors who are old enough to be your dad. 
The garage had a quick pre-race briefing before the drivers were called to get in the car. You stood next to Mitch, race headphones around you ears. 
The lights blinked and off they went. You internally cringed as you watched Max “push” Charles off the track. You knew he’d be pissed, because that definitely meant that there was a penalty coming. GP alerted Max that he’d be given a five second penalty. His response made you laugh.   
His voice was rattly, “That’s ok. Send the stewards my regards.” Of course Max would say that. Your attention was redirected at the sight of one of the McLarens crashing into the barriers. You saw the sparks and just hoped that either Oscar or Lando was ok. 
When Lando spoke up, you heart dropped for him. You saw how excited he had been, especially since it was his birthday week. 
The race was very interesting. Most of the teams were pulling the one-stop wonder. It was smart to have Checo pit later so that his and Max’s tires would be newer than Charles’s. You were able to click some buttons to keep up with the race. 
By the end, you were biting your fingernails. Charles was in Checo’s DRS zone and you knew he was going to make the pass. You were sad that Ferrari had such a good driver, but didn’t know how to use him. 
Cheers erupted from the garage as Max crossed the finish line, Charles right on his tail leading Checo behind him. This was really a race to remember. You were still watching the screen when Christian came up behind you. 
“Kid?” 
“Yes sir?” You took your headphones off. He beckoned you with his finger over to a different area. 
“How would you like to go get Red Bull’s trophy for us?” Your eyes lit up and you nodded. Your nerves were suddenly shot with anxiety and excitement. You knew you had a couple of minutes because the Max Verstappen Pod Cast turned into Carpool Karaoke. Mitch was able to give you some pants because it was chilly everywhere except the heated garage. 
You were led to a small waiting room and were told to stay there until someone would come get you. You took out your phone and scrolled through Instagram. When you heard Max’s voice, you quickly put your phone away. 
Max’s eyes brightened at the sight of you seemingly waiting for him. 
“How was the Max Verstappen Podcast on wheels?” you asked as he brought you into a hug. 
“For the last time, it’s not a podcast.” 
There were crickets from you, Charles, and Checo. Max huffed before he took a sip of his water bottle. You looked over to Charles as he also took a sip from his water. 
When you made eye contact, you said, “That was a pretty sweet overtake. You think you can teach that to Arthur next season?” You laughed and so did he. 
Charles raised his eye brows before replying, “We will see. You think he has a shot?” You were able to walk over to him since Max was currently Maxsplaining to Checo, who looked confused and bored as ever. 
“Yeah, he just has to remember which pedal is the throttle. The dude seems to forget often.” 
Charles joined in, “I know right. It’s like his strategist has to remind him where it is. And don’t get me started on his breaking.” 
You cringed at the thought of Arthur’s breaking habits. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad.” Soon yours and Charles’s hands started moving, just like Max had been a few minutes earlier. The two of you completely missed the way that Max was staring at the two of you. His kid and his emotional support rival. 
“Hey kid. Why are you here?” Max questioned. 
Your eyes sparkled. “I’m getting the Red Bull trophy!” Your grin filled your face. 
Max was about to say something, but a steward came to get the four of you. You went one by one, you following Checo, standing on the far side. 
The Dutch national anthem begin to play, and you found yourself swaying. Anyone who said it wasn’t a bop were clearly lying. You couldn’t wait to hear your anthem play. You’d join the select few rookies who gets to win a race during their rookie year. But, most importantly, you’d be the first female to do everything. First points, first podium, first win…first championship. You’d do it all. You were hungry for it. 
After the anthems ended, they brought out the trophy for Max, along with his medal. The next person, who happened to be Patrick Dempsey, handed the trophy to you. You were starstruck as you shook his hand. When you were done, you stared at your hand. Your hand was now blessed by the hand of the sexiest man alive. You would never wash your hand ever again. You quickly raised the trophy and the fans roared. 
You could get used to this. 
The crowds were loudest though for Charles and he deserved it. You knew he was going through a drought and you just wished that next year would be it for him. But you also hoped that Max would also win. But you knew that if Max lost to anyone, he’d be glad it was Charles. 
The celebrations were the most fun. This this wasn’t your first podium, you quickly shook the bottle. Your pop wasn’t as impressive as Lando’s fountain, but you had a fun way to get it out quickly. Hauling it over your shoulder like a bazooka, you shook it and aimed it at the three drivers. Max laughed when he saw how you held it, and pointed his own bottle at you. 
You looked over at Charles and winked at him, hoping that he got the signal. His wink (blink) let you know that he did. He “tiptoed” over to Max and dumped the rest of his champagne on his head. Max was not ready to drown in it and quickly turned around, shooting it at Charles. He tried to run away, but Max followed him. Sadly the streams of the liquid died down as the bubbles went away. Your hair was a sticky mess, but you didn’t care. 
Over at the front, you saw this giant red button. You turned to Max, “Hey! What does this button do?” 
Max shrugged, Charles shrugged, Checo shrugged, you shrugged. And your hand landed on the button. 
Fireworks exploded from the top of the nearby building. You were instantly illuminated with the red, blue, yellow, green, and white lighting. With firework reflections in your eyes, you closed them, trapping them in the depths of your eyes, trying to memorize every detail. 
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Max's story
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Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla @badassturtle13 @kaaale @wcnorris @cool-ultra-nerd @hockeyboysarehot @agent-curt-mega @myxticmoon
I will reply to your comment if I was unable to tag you!
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witchthewriter · 5 months
Text
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𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  
a/n: not a poly relationship - I just decided to have them both in one post. Let me know if you want more xx Also I went through the tags for these guys and there is nothing but SMUT. So I wanted some sweet sfw headcanons for the boys
Warnings: swearing, nsfw included (no one under 18 please).
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
INTJ
Ravenclaw
Neutral Good
Scorpio Sun, Capricorn Moon, Virgo Rising
𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲/𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭
・This man is fucking dangerous behind the wheel. And although he is a hot-head occasionally, it isn't when he's driving.
・Simon knows he's shit, so when people honk at him, give him the finger - he just stone-faces it. Let's them berate him because really, he doesn't fucking care.
・However he has lost his licence a few times ... and so you told him he could be your &lt;3 passenger princess <3
・Simon wasn't amused ...
・Very much the protective type, verging on possessive. Not in an abusive way, but he wants everyone to know that you're his. So when anyone flirts with you - or even when they're a little too nice, his jealousy consumes him.
・Scary dog privledges, with and without the mask. This man is intimidating as fuck.
・6'4, wide shoulders and big hands, so it doesn't matter how you look, how tall you are etc - Simon is bigger, taller and stronger.
・Yes he can be a hardass, but when he loves someone, that roughness is somewhat smoothened out. He'd hate to hurt your feelings.
・He only wears his mask to hide his identity; he takes it off when missions are done.
・And when he's home, he rarely wears it.
・Absolutely HATES being jump-scared. And his reflexes take over (you've learnt from the first and last time)
・This goes with random kisses as well, sometimes you just have to make yourself known before touching Simon
・He isn't huge into PDA, but when outside he will gladly hold your hand, bump his shoulder into yours when you make a crappy dad joke.
・The biggest misconception is that he's cold. Well, at work - obviously he is. But at home, with you, he has so much warmth. A lot of life.
・He has great banter. Absolutely has both of you laughing your asses off.
・Calls you "love," "sweetheart," (all in his gruff, chiselled brit accent). And when you're alone, he calls you names like "my love," "hun," "sweet cheeks."
・You're slowly learning about Simon's past, which he shares little by little.
・Too much information and he's scared you might feel overwhelmed and leave him
・There's some deep trauma there, but the army has therapists and everyone gets checked out before they're deemed mentally healthy enough.
・He does want kids, but only after he's done with the military. He would hate to be an absent father in any way. And he wouldn't want you to have that full responsibility.
・A lot of people characterise him as this traumatised man who can barely look after himself. But that is far, faaaaar from the truth. He's very competent. And he eats a LOT. But he also works out (to keep in shape, he actually hates the gym) (also he doesn't expect you to do anything of that stuff. He loves you for you.)
・I also have this headcanon that Ghost/Riley would love Metallica, Slipknot, Black Sabbath etc. It's one of the things that calm him down. However, if he's had an overwhelming day, he needs no noise whatsoever.
𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔
Teases Them (You) x About To End Them (Ghost)
The Moon and His Star
𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆
Opposites Attract
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈
Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Rey
Arsonist's Lullabye by Hozier
Enter Sandman by Metallica
𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, I bloody mean it. 
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・There's almost like two sides of your s/o. The Ghost side, where the mask stays on, and he's rough, possessive, dominant. And then the Simon side, where he likes soft touches and when you gently stroke his face
・You've both discovered that Simon likes it when you wear his mask, gloves - nothing else - and touch yourself.
・Even with your cum juices on the mask, and gloves, he'll still wear them to work.
・It's the only kinky thing he brings with him while on deployment. You did want to take a naked polaroid for him but he didn't trust the other guys not to somehow see it.
・He likes keeping you as separate from army life as much as possible. Because you feel like home, and it gives him hope.
・Ghost loves taming your bratty side. He's short, demanding and can shut you up with one look.
"Keep on actin' like that, and see what happens."
・Of course you keep acting up, and when you get home, you pay for it tenfold.
・Ghost's hands are as big as a paddle, and when he has you over his knee, ass up in the air. He doesn't hesitate in leaving red marks (all consensual. He wouldn't do anything without having a conversation before hand).
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
ISTP
Hufflepuff
Chaotic Good
Aries Sun, Aquarius Moon, Leo Rising
𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠
・A 6'10 king, who suffers from social anxiety but has this soft, silly side that he loves showing you and only you (I will take no criticisms on his height. It is LAW. My law.)
・Because of his anxiety, social aspects of life are much harder than work. He's highly skilled in combat, and has a lot of confidence in his abilities to accomplish missions.
・However, when you tried to speak to him, all he could do was stutter.
・You allowed him to get the words out, but he was an absolute mess afterwards and went to go train.
・But this didn't deter you in the slightest. Hell, you had been trying to muster the courage to speak to him for weeks...
・It took a while for Konig to open up about his past, especially his adolescence.
・He's told you the jist of it, but there's details that you don't push him on.
・One of your favourite pastimes together is going to bakeries and eating the most delicious pastries.
・When you're feeling down, or there's something to celebrate, there's no cake but pastries instead
・Doesn't mind animals, but understands that when he's away you will get a bit lonely. So you surprised him by getting a pair of kittens!
・You showed him over video chat, one white kitten and one black.
"I haven't chosen names for them yet, but I thought maybe you could have some input?"
"Schatz! The kittens are cute but you have scratch marks all over your arms!"
"They're very playful!" And then you leant closer to the camera and whispered, "I leave scratches on your back ..." And with an innocent look on your face, you watched as Konig shivered.
・Likes to put you on his lap when he's cleaning weapons, or getting the marks out of his mask or shoes. Okay honestly, he just wants you on his lap all the time. Whatever excuse he can come up with - he'll goddamn use it
・Absolutely loves Kate Bush and Stevie Nicks. He thinks they have such a beautiful sound that you can find him with headphones on, swaying in the bedroom, silently in his feels
・All your pet names are in Austrian/German:
"Schatz", meaning 'treasure'.
"Maus," meaning 'mouse.'
"Liebling" meaning 'darling.'
"Hase" meaning 'bunny'.
"Liebe" meaning 'love.'
𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔
Always Bringing Them Rocks They Think They Would Like (You) x Keeps The Rocks (Konig)
The Gomez & Morticia Adams
I Don’t Know What I’m Doing But At Least I’m Alive, Right? (You) x You’re Doing Great, Sweetie (Konig)
𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆
Hidden Identity & Forced Proximity
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈
Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush
The Chain by Stevie Nicks
Dance of the Druids by Bear McCreary (he loves movie scores as well. It's one of his fascinations).
𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.
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・Konig is a bit awkward at first with the sexual interactions you guys have. He does have anxiety, but also, the build up of sexual tension had been going on for months.
・All he had during that time was his hands and the memories of how you looked, the way your eyes met his then flicked downward - almost like you had x-ray vision.
・There was no denying the heat.
・So when you first hooked up it was a fumbling mess of grunting, clothes ripping and fast hands trying to touch and grab at any bare piece of flesh.
・You did have a shocking revelation that first time however. Because this man's cock is not only thick, veiny but nearly 9 inches when he's hard.
・That first time wasn't a true first time as the look on your face told Konig everything - you weren't ready for that part of him ... just yet.
・Loves when you ride his thigh; they're absolutely huge. Just muscled and bulky and the first time you saw them (without the uniform) you audibly gasped.
・His body is absolutely divine
・Like it had been sculpted by the gods. Large biceps, long legs, small waist, large shoulders. His hands wrap your neck perfectly.
・You feel so safe with him.
・And you have to remind him that, because sometimes he worries he could hurt you without meaning to.
"I'm a grown up, Konig. I can handle myself."
"So when are you going to let me fuck you?"
"mmm... I think I still have to get used to that. Maybe we can do fingers first..." (his fingers are ... fucking huge).
834 notes · View notes
cooliofango · 4 months
Note
pocket princess!! if you feel up to it could you pls write something fluffy with price x reader x soap. id love to see something lighthearted with price handling his loves <3!!
Baby It’s Cold Outside
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Pairing: Price x Reader x Soap
Word Count: 727
Synopsis: A soft shared moment of peace between the three loved ones on a snowy night 🫶
A/N: Absolutely crying cause I couldn’t think of how to make this one longer 😭😭😭. I hated how long this was taking tho so I did my best, I hope you like it! I will continue to work on your Gaz ask and make it longer I promise 👀
Cw: None! It’s fluffy content between Bun’s favorite boys 🫶
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Winter is always one of your favorite seasons. It definitely isn’t because of the snow. You hate having to constantly uncover the white flakes of frozen water from your car and pray that the doors aren’t frozen shut. It isn’t necessarily because of the holidays, even if they are always fun to celebrate with loved ones. It’s not even about the peppermint lattes you love to get on the way to work every morning when it’s being sold at your local cafe. Winter is your favorite season because of the moment you currently find yourself in.
The dim light of the television was the only thing illuminating your shared bedroom. The chatter of the late night show was quiet, just although loud to hear the men gossip about the actor’s movie and their experience on set. “It’s all rubbish, the reviews he’s speakin’ of..” You hear John lazily mumble against the right side of your collarbone, “The movie wasn’t any good.” The brit is against your side with an arm wrapped snugly just under your chest. His head rests on your shoulder, nearly falling asleep on you as the season’s early nights took its toll. The neatly trimmed mutton chops tickle your skin as he settles further against you. It’s a warm weight against you that you’ve grown familiar with, as well as come to love.
“Didn’t know ye watch cheesy rom coms, captain.” The Scottish accent of your other boyfriend fills your senses from your left and you turn to look at him with the same amused smile he’s wearing. Johnny’s eyes are closed, more in a half conscious state than John is. His head rests lower on your body, more against your chest than your collarbone, with an arm around your stomach, leaving you sandwiched in between the two men you loved so dearly. In addition, one of his legs is also laced with yours.
“Occasionally..” John mutters after a moment’s silence, earning a quiet chuckle from the scot.
The lighthearted banter between the two of them was always endearing to you, filling you with more warmth than the heat the two bodies around you did. It was more than welcome with how cold it’s been lately. You take a glance out the window on the left wall of the room, watching as large snowflakes fall down continuously. The hand on John’s shoulder absentmindedly toys with the hem of his sleeve while the other traces gentle patterns onto Johnny’s back.
These moments are scarce, but you cherish them with every fiber of your being. It’s not everyday you get to enjoy the peace and quiet. The worries that plagued your mind everytime the two went out for work are non-existent, even if it's temporarily. It is as if the dangers and horrors of the real world just aren’t there anymore and it was just the three of you.
A heavy sigh of content left Johnny and you could feel his weight against you become heavier as he relaxed. John places a soft kiss against your warm skin. You smiled lovingly at the feeling, tilting your head to rest against the top of his.
A yawn slips past your lips and John smiles against your collarbone at the sound, reaching behind him to pluck the remote from the bedside table. His movements are slow and careful, not wanting to jostle the two of you too much and disturb the peace that’s made its way into the atmosphere. “Get some sleep, sweetheart,” John whispered to you. He hit the power button, sending the room into total darkness before setting the remote back onto the table. His weight shifts back onto you, easily snuggling back into the spot against you. The blanket is pulled back over you before his arm returns back across your torso.
“You, too. G’Night, Johnny,” John said this with a gentle tap to Johnny’s nose with his knuckle. The scot simply huffs, already in the process of dozing off against you.
The room grows silent now, save for the collective breaths of relaxation being shared between the three of you. Your head falls to lean against the pillow under it, eyes falling shut. The warmth of the two men’s physical presence and love helps you to settle in a blanket of comfort. It works wonders lulling you to sleep in a matter of minutes.
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Taglist 🏷️
@bunnyreaper @bookobsessedram @numberonetastemakerwhispers @a-very-bored-blogger @hawsx3 @ohworm-writes @tokusho @kitkatscabinet
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bapple117 · 5 days
Text
Velvette Slang Masterlist: for the fandom
A gift from a humble Brit to anyone (not from the UK) wanting to write Velv convincingly ~
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Hello you wayward sinner!
Are you looking to write Velvette into a fan fiction, comic, roleplay or something else? Would you like to make her sound legit but you have no idea about British (or indeed, South London) slang? FEAR NOT! I, Bapple, am here to hold your hand and guide you through the wonderful world of British slang so you can have fun making Velv sound legit. Let's proceed!
Not all of this will be limited to the UK, of course, and it's not an exhaustive list of ALL British slang either - it's just the kind of things Velv WOULD say as someone from South London.
Insults
For men: bastard, prick, wanker, knob, dickhead, wankstain, bellend, git, tosser, sod, cock, pillock, numpty, codger (means old man)
For women: bint, bitch, slag, wench, slut, tart, trollop, scrub
For anyone: arsehole, arse, twat, sket, muppet, minger (means ugly), bugger, gobshite, cretin
The absolute worst thing you can call someone else is cunt - this is very strong and isn't used in casual conversation, unless you are in VERY informal company, in which case it's thrown around like it's nothing at all. (Come here you cheeky cunt - playful)
Terms of Endearment
Babes, hun, luv, darlin', sweetheart, mate, sweetie, mucker, pal, blud, fam, dear, dearie, honey
Eg: "Alright babes? How's it going darlin?'"
British people often use insults affectionately, too, especially with close friends as a way to tease / banter. (You silly sod, you useless prick, you cheeky git, you daft muppet, etc)
Slang Words
Drunk: trollied, smashed, pissed, wasted, legless, hammered, sloshed, battered, bladdered, merry, shitfaced, arseholed, plastered, lashed
Good: banging, well good, mint, the dogs bollocks, ace, blinding, cracking, brill, fab, neat, beast, fresh, hench, jokes (that's jokes innit), lush, peng (good looking), sick, wicked, peak, wavy
Bad: grim, naff, shite, shit, crap, tat (useless old tat), minging, rank, dry, nasty, humming (means gross)
Pleased: chuffed, buzzing, tickled pink, sorted (I'm sorted mate)
Annoyed: gutted, miffed, pissed off, fucked off, fuming, raging, ticked off, well annoyed, bovvered (used more sarcastically eg: I aint bovvered), vexed
Curses
Bollocks, fucking hell, bloody hell, bugger, piss off, any of the insults used above
Other random words
Bare = a lot of (eg bare money)
Chirpsing, grafting = flirting
Garms = clothes
Lips = kiss (are you tryna lips me?)
Peng ting = good looking person / high quality thing
Standard = of course, yeah no duh (Yeah that's standard mate.)
Tight = cheapskate (Don't be so bloody tight!)
Yard = your house (Come over to my yard)
Banter = conversation that's funny, casual, playful (S'just banter innit)
Convo, chinwag, chat = conversation
Defo = short for definite (Oh he's defo up to something)
Other random phrases
Are you taking the mick? = are you mocking me?
Stop faffing around = be serious and stop messing about
That's mad = wow, I can't believe what you just said or that's amazing
Allow it = just leave it, it's no big deal (Whatever mate, allow it)
Other helpful pointers
When British people (who talk like Velv) swear angrily we do so many times in a whole sentence and add a lot of qualifiers, eg:
"Fuck off you fucking prick, you absolute fucking useless arsehole!"
"Don't piss me off babes or I'll fucking end your shitty little life!"
Making a crude observation about something nearly always a curse in-front of it, eg:
"That's fucking rank."
"It was fucking buzzing mate!"
The Magical Use of Innit:
Innit is a wonderful word that can be used everywhere, especially for someone from South London. It basically means "isn't it?" but it has MANY uses. It can be used to mean an agreement, like "I know right?"
"That was well good innit"
"He's a right twat" - response: "INNIT!"
"It's fuckin grim in here" - "Innit mate"
Adding "well" to words
That was well good - that was well bad - that was well grim
(You get the idea)
That's about it for now!
If I think of anything else I will edit this masterlist and if anyone has any questions please feel free to pop them in my inbox. Happy writing!
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184 notes · View notes
adventuringblind · 4 months
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Hold Me
LandOscar x reader
Genre: Fluff
Summary: Reader endures the death of a family member, Lando and Oscar are there to help her grieve
Dialouge prompt: "Hold me, I just want to relax in your arms."
Warnings: Death and grief, whoever you're grieving in this is left gender neutral so you can imagine whoever you want
Notes: to be perfectly honest, I've never personally experienced this. I'm not close wit majority of my extended family. I used this to challenge myself so I hope you like it! :)
This is part of my 1000 follower celebration! Requests are still open if you would like to participate!
Masterlist
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Loss and grief are a finicky thing. Mourning comes in many different forms, and one can grieve the loss of anything.
This is more stereotypical. Or - that how she feels at the moment. Not being able to get out of bed in the morning, not being able to sleep. Eating has even become a difficult task for her as she tries to reason with herself that this is not what they would've wanted for her. That is, if they were still here.
She wants nothing more than to pull herself together, but her mind and body are not on the same terms. It's been a week since the funeral. Why can't she just make herself move forward?
There is a cold spot on the bed on one side and an arm around her waist from the other. Lando is up and about somewhere as usual. Oscar has always loved to sleep in.
The door opens softly, and Lando slides back under the covers. "You feeling up to coming down for breakfast? Or should we stay in bed?" So gentle. So reassuring. Never pushing.
"I want to go go downstairs, but -" She huffs in frustration. "- My body won't move."
Lando hums and attempts to pry her out of Oscar's grip without waking him. He fails, and Oscar only grips harder. "I was going to suggest I take you downstairs myself so that your body doesn't have to cooperate... but I think Osc has other plans." He chuckles a little bit at the sight.
It pulls a quick half smile out of her. And Lando absolutely beams at it.
The Brit tries again to pull her away from Oscar. The Aussie wakes this time and groans. "No."
This time, she manages a small chuckle. Oscar turns over with her in tow, and Lando whines. "Could you let go for like five minutes so we can go eat?"
"Tired."
"Food."
A brief pause. "What kind of food?"
"Whatever kind you want if you come downstairs with us."
Oscar groans for an ungodly amount of time before agreeing. She can't help herself and laughs. Something about this morning encounter, the way her lovers are bantering, how the sun is spilling into the room, and illuminating their skin.
"It's nice to hear your laugh."
"Good thing we can listen to it every time you make stupid decisions."
"Rude!"
All three of them fall in a fit of giggles. Oscar relents and turns them back over so she's facing Lando.
"Can you both hold me - I just want to relax in your arms for a bit." She mumbles out. Two sets of arms wrap around her. Her body relaxs in their hold. Something about her tears this time is a mix of all her feelings. Everything is overwhelming.
But it's okay. She knows she's looked out for. It may not feel okay now, and she is grieving, but Lando and Oscar are here.
She thanks the person now watching over her for this moment.
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alonetimelover · 1 year
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Love on BRITs Awards
Pairings: Harry Styles x Slavic!fem!reader
Summary: After years of being together, six months of being engaged YN and Harry are letting people know they're in love - it just happens to be BRITs 2023 award show.
Warnings: swearing, little Slavic stereotype, some sexual tension (Harry's horny) - nothing explicit, alcohol use
Word count: ~7,2k
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“My love, my flower, my baby, my my my! I am home!” 
YN could argue with a lot of people on what is the best sound at six a.m. but knew she would win. What’s better than your loving fiancé coming home after a month apart? Even not being a morning person herself, YN smiled in the pillow (Harry’s pillow that she always slept on whenever he was away) only waiting for Harry to jump on the bed right next to her. 
“You know, one would think after a month apart you’d be waitin’ for me near the front door,” he whispered in her ear, after gently laying down (surprisingly) on his side of bed, and kissing her cheek over and over. 
“One would think after years of knowing me, you’d be aware of me loving our bed very, very much,” she whispered, not being able to hold her smile back. “Especially in the morning, when it’s all just for me.”
“You tease!” Harry laughed while starting to tickle YN wherever she was the most ticklish, earning one of the most beautiful sounds he could think of, her laugh. “Liar, saying you didn’t miss me one bit!”
“Okay, okay! Stop, baby! Hey, stop, please!” 
“Tell me you love me more.” He stopped ticking her. Now on top of her, with her hands pinned above her head with his left hand and the right one on her hip, daring to tickle again. Curls falling onto his forehead, too short to be held back by their (yes, they shared it) butterfly hair clip. 
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” He challenged.
“I love you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Very, very much.” Her voice an octave lower than usual, almost tempting.
And when his grip on her hands loosened she added, “almost as much as our bed.” But Harry was too late to catch on, she was already out of bed and running down the hall, laughing like crazy. With a sigh, he got up and ran after her, passing all the decorations she had been preparing for the whole night, and not catching them. Only thing he was focused on was her. 
He loved all of their banter every single time it had taken place. Didn’t matter if it was too silly or too childish like a lot of people would say, he adored every single one of them. 
“Stop right where you are.” He pointed a finger at her, after running around the whole house and finally stopping in the dining room.
“Because?” She asked with her eyebrows raised, stopping in her tracks, a smirk on her beautiful face.
“Because.”
He didn’t need to say more. The way he was looking at her, eyes big, almost sparkling. He was admiring her in a baggy shirt, his or hers, he couldn’t say anymore. They got used to sharing their clothes with each other early in the relationship. She was standing right beside the dining table, he only now noticed, was set with a variety of his favourite breakfast food. Flowers from their garden in the big glass vase. A bottle of champagne cooling in a bucket full of ice. And three balloons in the shape of Grammy awards flowing above the chairs. 
“My love -” he tried speaking, but words died in his mouth. 
“No need to say anything,” she calmed him immediately, making her way towards him. “I am so proud of you,” YN said, standing right in front of Harry. “You are the most delicate and sensible person I’ve ever met. Your work is an epiphany, an ode to all people that inspired you, and a gorgeous testament of your feelings. I am so proud of you, Harry. You did it.” 
Speechless. He wanted to thank her, scream to the world about how much he thanked her, and how without her there would be no Harry’s House, no Harry Styles some people admired. Without her there was no Harry. But the overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation for her overtook his whole body. He loved her so much.
“Can I get a kiss from my amazing fiancé?” She asked after a few minutes of silent embrace, head on his chest, hands caressing his back. 
And when no words left his lips, and one hand reached for her chin, she knew the answer. The way he held and kissed her said more than enough. ‘I missed you’. ‘I love you.’ ‘Thank you.’
“Take me to bed?”
“What about this breakfast?” he gestured towards the full table. 
“You want to eat breakfast or let me show you how much I love you and how proud I am of you?”
“Considering that you prepared breakfast at five in the morning is saying all kinds of love,” Harry whispered to her lips, not wanting to part. 
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
And then he took her to bed, just like she asked. He found his voice and could thank her in all the best ways he knew, she’d appreciate. 
~~~~~~
11.02.2023
“Nervous?”
“Not really, no. Last time was a total blast. They have an unhealthy amount of booze available, stress reliefs,” Harry responded to his fiancee, smiling at her.
They both were getting ready to attend BRIT Awards in London - their first official event as an engaged pair, couple even. People speculated about them for years, few photos taken here and there, some slip ups of Harry’s in interviews and just rumours that gossip magazines just loved to spread. Years after dating and no more than six months of being engaged, they felt ready. 
They were aware of the hate they’d get. There was no way everyone would be happy. The World was a cruel place, and being in the public eye didn’t help feeling secure. YN not being famous, not being from an english-spoken country, not being from the overall rich family, nor having a job that payed her in millions were things that people would analyse. Her accent would be a problem for them, her loud laughter, her dress she chose to wear tonight, the statement she wanted to present with herself. But she felt ready. Harry was next to her and they knew whoever hated them, her, wasn’t Harry’s fan. 
“You’re not holding your alcohol well, baby. Need to be careful with it, or you gonna crawl to the stage to accept all those awards,” she laughed, smoothing his suit jacket. 
“Mhmmm, I do not have your alcohol tolerance. Those Slavic genes are helpful, aren’t they?”
“I could smack you really hard for that stereotypical remark, you know that?”
“Absolutely. I would let you, but -”
“...but it’s true in this case. I hate when those stereotypes are.”
“You know another stereotype about Slavic people?” he smiled cheekily at her, brushing her hair behind her ears. He wanted to see her whole face, glowing. 
“Be careful.” She warned him, but knowing that he wouldn’t say anything hurtful or insensitive.
“Yeah, Slavic women have the most beautiful eyes on the planet.”
Trying to cover her blushing and amazement of his flirting even after all those years together, she asked “how many Slavic women have you seen in your life, hmm?”
“Quite a few, I’d say. I played in a lot of European countries where Slavic people live, baby. I saw your mum and grandma. But most importantly, I see your eyes.” He stopped to just stare into them, waiting for the right words to come. “No word to describe them. First thing about you that I fell in love with.”
Flirt. Absolute flirt, thought YN, leaning to kiss his smirk away. 
“You’re too good at this,” she whispered after pulling away from his lips.
“What? Honesty?”
Shaking her head with a laugh, she moved away from Harry. There could be no foundation that could cover her blush. And applying more of it would just look too unnatural. There was no place for mistakes on her part. She did one and it was going to be a very different story. 
“When are you going to dress up? Harry said when he comes over, we should be already dressed. He wants to just do some touch ups,” Harry, her Harry, asked while following her to the bathroom, where she was preheating the hair straightener. 
“I need help with buttons, it has a lower back and -” 
“Lower back you say?”
Deciding to play along with him, she added, “yeah, and the cleavage is deep. Oh, and also it’s see through. Lots of lace, too.” She smirked at the end, seeing how enamoured Harry was, almost drooling. 
After no words were spoken by him, he ran in the direction of their shared closet, with YN rapidly leaving her comb and following him.
“Don’t look into the garment bag! Harry!” She screamed, wanting to surprise him with the dress she had spent weeks choosing with Harry Lambert. 
Slipping towards the bag, Harry caught himself before falling down flat on his face. With a hand on his heart, he tried to slow its beating. 
“That was a close one.”
“That was a sign not to do it. No peeking inside, Harry. ”
“Just a little one,” he pouted, eyes big. 
“No way. It’s a surprise.”
“If all you said about the dress is true, I’m not going to make it to the show. We won’t make it,” Harry stalked towards her. “Little look inside, two seconds.” He held his two fingers up. “Promise, scout’s honour.” He stole a little kiss from her.
“Bullshit, you weren’t a Scout.” She needed to stop, accepting yet another kiss from her fiance. “It doesn’t count.” 
“What if I -”
The doorbell interrupted his persuasion tactics, making him sigh. “You’re lucky. What I wanted to say would make you open this bag within seconds.”
“Yeah?” She challenged, knowing well it would be true, if he’d said it like that. 
“Mhm.” 
And with one last long kiss to her lips, Harry left to open the door for his overexcited friends. 
~~~~
YN was questioning their decision to officially appear together on that award show. Nerves were slowly eating her away, making her palms sweaty, fingers trembling. The realisation of what was to come kindly emerged early enough for her to alternatively chicken out. She wasn’t as ready as she had thought so. The dress Harry L. helped her put on, now embracing her body perfectly was an imminent sign of reality she was about to endure. 
“He’s going to faint, YNN. There’s no way he'll be able to contain himself even with us in the room,” Harry said, smirking, smoothing any wrinkles that his careful eye could catch. 
“Stop it.” YN laughed dryly. “He needs to. We have, what? Twenty minutes till the car is here to take us to the venue?” 
“Something like that. But really, YN. You look absolutely breathtaking. The makeup, hair, this dress? If I say so myself you look like you have been taken out of the most beautiful painting.”
“What’s going on with you all buttering me up, hmm? Is it Harry’s request?” 
Lambert sighed, “you need to believe when people appreciate your beauty, inside and outside.” He bettered the front of the dress, laying her necklace right in the middle of her chest. “Absolutely gorgeous, ready to stun anyone in front of you,” he said, now looking into her eyes. Encouraging smile on his face. 
She knew to love herself. She taught herself that after years of being overshadowed by lots of people around her. She learned her worth and decided to nurture it. And it only got better when she met Harry. The way he appreciated her, always telling how beautiful she looked, how smart she was, how funny she was. Her confidence only skyrocketed from that moment. 
Now, however, the nerves took over. Little YN, from her small town, was looking at her from the mirror. Too big of a dress on her body, tangled hair and dirty knees from kneeling on the ground. But her eyes looking in awe back at her older form. If there was someone she was going to overcome this feeling for, it was her younger self. 
“Ready to see your man?” Harry asked with heels in his hand. “He’s fidgeting in the living room.”
“I won’t be more ready, so the best moment is now.”
She put on her classic black Louboutin heels and carefully, with help of Harry L. made her way down the stairs to the living room. The chatter that was heard from upstairs suddenly died, when the clicking of the heels got noticed by her Harry. His eyes shot from his drink, mouth already half open, after taking a look at her legs. Then he could see her whole but wasn’t sure if he actually did till she was standing in front of him. 
“You can close your mouth, mate,” said Jeff, laughing at his best friend. 
“Shut up,” answered Harry, glancing at him for a split second. “Get out, please.” He added the last word after being gently hit in the chest by YN. 
“Just remember you have ten minutes tops.”
When everyone left the room, Harry hid his face in his hands, smiling widely. “Oh my God. Is it possible to fall in love all over?”
“I’m asking myself the same question every day,” YN whispered back, trying to see his face. “Let me see you, please.” 
“I’m going to cry,” he laughed. “Oh God, really. I’m gonna cry, baby.”
“What are you gonna do when you see me walking down the aisle?” 
“Don’t. That’s going to be very embarrassing. Gemma already knows to be ready with ten packets of tissues,” Harry stated with a smile, showing his flushed face. 
“Hi.”
“Hi. You - you look absolutely perfect. Woah, really. I have no words to describe how astonishingly beautiful you look. Spin around, let me take a good look at you, baby.” 
YN spinned slowly, a dress flowing around her legs, showing even more of them. The lace complimenting her body in the best ways, adoring her features. The heavy necklace that he could recognise as an engagement gift from his mother to YN, and matching earrings from his sister. Seeing it he could only ask himself: how was it possible to love someone as much as he did YN? 
“What d’you think? It’s not too revealing, is it?”
“The most important thing is, do you feel comfortable? Is it too revealing to you?”
“I don’t think so. I wear that nude underwear so as not to accidentally flash anyone. Dress is very comfortable, the lace is actually so soft, look.” YN took his hand in hers and placed it on her waist. “See?”
With a hand on her waist, and a thumb daring its way a little higher, he smiled at her lovingly, “feels very nice, baby. Show me those shoes, now. I only got a glimpse when you were walking down the stairs.”
“I’m gonna fall over trying to show them,” she laughed, knowing that those tiny little heels were going to be the death of her. The balance they required was more than what she was used to. 
“Okay, here.” And just like that Harry fell to his knees, not caring about the one of a kind suit he was wearing. “Place your foot on my thigh, baby, and hold onto my shoulders, yeah?”
After nodding her head in agreement, YN gently placed her left heel on Harry’s thigh. Right hand holding his shoulder, slightly leaning forward. Harry moved the dress out of the way, above her knees, and took a good look at those black shoes that were going to absolutely make him feral. 
“Well,” he started, “it’s - they’re very, very nice.” His hand was now massaging YN’s calf. 
“And quite comfy for being 12 centimetres,” YN said excitedly, not catching on Harry’s mood change. 
“Mhmm, you know what?” He was now looking up at her, trying really hard to focus. “Maybe we could -”
“It’s an open living room for fuck’s sake, guys! Have some decency!” Yelled Jeff after having walked on rather compromised position YN and Harry were in. 
YN tried to put her foot down on the floor, but Harry was still holding it. “Harry, we’re gonna be late. Let’s move.”
“Listen to your girl, man. People are waiting for you two.”
Harry eventually helped YN balance herself again on two legs and fixed the dress for her. He dusted his knees after having earned a remark from Jeff about ‘everybody knowing you were on your knees for her before the carpet’. Following YN out of the house, passing Jeff he just whispered ‘cockblock’ and caught up with his date. 
There was no turning back. 
~~~~
“Are there any interviews on the carpet or just photos?” 
“Just photos, if they changed the schedule then we just move past them. I’ll send an apology to them, saying we weren’t prepared for them,” Harry answered his fiancee, doing circles on her hand that he was holding. “I’ll be with you for the whole time, yeah? And if you changed your mind, and you don’t wanna take those photos, then it’s okay. You’ll just be with Jeff waiting for me at the end of the carpet.”
“No, I - I promised you to do it. I’m going to.”
“Screw it. If you aren’t 100% sure then don’t. Don’t make yourself do it. I won’t love you less, I won’t be disappointed. I want you to be comfortable and ready. Okay?” 
YN nodded her head, a tiny smile on her lips, “I’m ready, as long as you’re with me.”
“Always, baby. Always.” He kissed her hands and they fell into a light conversation with the rest of the people in the SUV. 
The venue was crazy. There were people running around, shouting at each other trying to communicate over the loud screams of fans and paparazzi. It was a mayhem, YN had never seen anything like it in comparison to Harry being so used to it, it didn’t make him flinch. 
Red carpet just in front of her, with yet another star walking flawlessly on it, having taken photos of them. YN already spotted Lizzo, Lewis Capaldi and girls from Wet Leg sporting their newest, extravagant looks. Now it all was real, she was there ready to commit one of the biggest steps in her life. 
“You’re up after Leigh-Anne, love birds. About 30 seconds," Jeff informed them, making his way to the other side of the carpet, where the ‘finishing line’ - as YN called it - was. 
“Okay, three deep breaths, baby,” Harry whispered to YN’s ear, not wanting to draw any more attention to them. “Follow my lead, yeah?”
“Always.” 
Looking into each other’s eyes, they did the exercise Harry’s therapist taught him years ago. Breathe in for five seconds, hold it for three, exhale for seven. Repeat three times and your blood flow is lower, heart beating less rapid and you’re actually calmer. It always worked on him, some times better than the others. 
“Let’s go,” Harry told her, after seeing her calming down enough to deal with all those people behind him. 
“Kiss?” 
He smiled and pecked her lips lovingly and while holding her hand moved to the centre of the chaos. 
If those people were loud before, YN wouldn’t be able to describe how they were when together with Harry she stepped on that carpet. 
‘Harry Styles, who is your date?’
‘Who is a pretty lady?’
‘Give me a smile honey!’
‘Change the pose!’
‘Over the shoulder, lady!’
‘Move on, please!’
Eyes were hurting YN from looking at all those flashes. The ringing in her ears from all the shouts, making her uncomfortable. Harry with a hand on her waist was doing a good job and reminding her she wasn’t alone, he was just next to her. Hand on her waist, caressing the skin right above it with his thumb. 
“You’re doing great, baby.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, earning even more screams and flashes. “I love you.” 
YN turned her head towards him, “I love you, thank you.” 
Oh, how much she wanted to kiss him. How much she wanted to just show him how much she appreciated his support right now. But they agreed to limit the PDA to a minimum, at least on the red carpet. There was going to be enough spotlight on them for appearing together. 
But Harry had different plans. 
“I’m gonna kiss you.”
And he did. It didn’t last more than three seconds but photographers around them behaved like it was a full on hour lasting make out session in the middle of the award show. Just a quick loving kiss, saying more than anybody else than them wouldn’t understand. 
“Take some alone photos,” she said after changing their poses two times. “You’re the star.” 
Not wanting to let her go, Harry was holding her hand to the last moment it was possible for them to reach each other. His eyes following after her, making sure she made it safely to Jeff without any troubles on the way. Those pictures with a lovesick look in his eyes would break the internet, together with the ones of them together. 
“What an armageddon you two caused out there. I knew it would be huge but woah,” exclaimed Jeff after being joined by the couple, Harry having finished his solo photos and immediately being next to YN. 
“My ears are ringing and my eyes are all dry. How can you do it so often?” YN asked Harry, fighting the urge to just bury her eyes in her palms. 
“Jeff, give me YN’s bag.” Harry turned to his manager, getting the little black bag. “I packed you some eye drops, baby. They do wonders. Let me,” he said smoothly, moving her head so she was looking up. “Don’t blink.”
He put drops into both of her eyes slowly, wiping away the ones that run down her cheeks carefully not to damage her makeup. Looking into her eyes, he couldn’t help himself but smile widely. 
“Thank you for being here with me.”
“Thank you for making me feel comfortable.”
At the table that one kind lady - Maria - had shown them to, YN could finally take off her shoes. As comfortable as they were, having not practised enough walking in them, YN could already feel the pain she would have the next morning. Massaging her left foot quietly, not wanting to draw attention to what she was doing, she tried not to lean too low under the table. 
“What are you doin’, baby?” Harry laughed at his fiancee. 
“My feet are starting to ache and it’s only been two hours of wearing them,” YN pouted, putting the shoes back on after being shamelessly caught in the act. 
“Didn’t you say they were comfortable?”
Harry’s hand already reached down to massage her foot. 
“They were, when I was wearing them for ten minutes. And stop, someone’s gonna look and have a wrong idea about what you’re doin’ under the table.” YN swatted his hand away, earring a scoff from Harry. She wasn’t the one to refuse the massage. 
“You want to switch?”
“My heels for your boots?”
“Yeah, I think I can manage them.” He took a quick look at the suddenly very high heels. “My legs might not look as good as yours but, who knows?” He smirked at the end, remembering their last interaction at home. 
“Not happening. I can just have them under the table, I’m not going to move from here anyway, so it’s all good.”
“You sure? I can make Jeff find you something to change,” Harry said, already turning to his friend. 
“Yes, I’m sure. Look at me -” she waited for him to face her, “ - thank you. I love you.”
“Mhm, I love you.” 
Even though they kissed for the nth time that day it still felt special. Even though it might have been the billionth time they did during their relationship, nothing changed. Same love and appreciation were exchanged. 
“Alright, mate. Move on, you need to change and open the show. Harry’s waiting for you in the dressing room,” said Jeff, patting Harry’s back, catching his attention. 
With one last kiss and questioning if she was going to be okay by herself (not really, she had Kid and Tyler next to her) Harry ran off backstage to prepare as quickly as possible. He had about ten minutes to be back out there and open the BRITs.
YN sipped on her juice waiting for Harry till starting drinking  something stronger. She was admiring the whole arena, looking at fans that were impatiently waiting for their favourite artist to take over the stage. All of the celebrities were sitting at their designed tables, looking much more collected than YN. But who she was kidding, they were in their element. She was very much out of her comfort zone. 
“YN?” 
She heard from behind her, a lovely voice that could only belong to one person. 
“Lizzo, uhm - hi!” YN responded, standing up from her chair and turning to properly greet her fiance’s friend.
“That man wasn’t lying when he said you’re the prettiest woman on earth, girl. Let me give you a hug!”
YN had never met Lizzo before, her relationship with Harry being very private but also them only talking about it with their families and closest friends. She didn’t know Harry said anything about her to Lizzo but wasn’t mad. She seemed like a lovely person and she was according to all the stories that she shared with Harry. 
“He slipped about you both after the Grammys. I don’t know how he hid you so well for years,” Lizzo whispered to YN’s ear while still hugging her closely. 
“Believe it, we weren’t as careful as you may think.” YN pulled away from Lizzo, but still stood close to her, feeling very comfortable.
“Good for you. Let me tell you something,” Lizzo laughed. “You’re stealing the show looking like this.”
“Says you! You look gorgeous! Can’t wait for your performance, I’ll be up and dancing.”
Slowly moving away to her table, Lizzo shouted pointing a finger at YN, “you better!” 
“Please, everyone, move to your assigned places. First performance is to start in two minutes, together with the broadcast. Enjoy your evening.” 
YN sat back down, abruptly feeling nervous. She knew Harry would put out his best, but after the Grammys sound problems and Harry’s frustration about it, she feared he might have got that too deep in his head. He was in his element while on stage but that inevitable twinge made her pick on her cuticles. 
“O2 arena, please welcome Harry Styles!” 
There he was, standing in that red jacket and black trousers, smirking to himself. No worry visible on his face or in his body language. He was home. 
YN at the same moment as Kid, Tyler and Jeff got up and started to sway to the music, singing loudly. She was going to have some fun tonight. 
“BRIT awards sing it out!” Shouted Harry pointing the mic in the air. His eyes were trying to find his fiancée, just to check if she was okay. 
YN and Kid, hugging, screamed the words at Harry, starting to dance around each other, copying Harry’s movements, laughing from time to time. If she was going to enjoy the night, she needed to bury the fear of people judging her. They were going to do it no matter what. 
Harry was running on stage, just like on his concerts, feeling the love that was flowing out of the crowd. It was feeding his ego, artistic ego, and YN loved that for him. The confidence he clothed looked damn good on him. 
“Thank you, BRITs!” He screamed in the microphone, bowed down and thanked a few more times, grin on his face. 
“He’s gonna be back in a minute. He just needs to change,” Jeff informed YN after they all sat down. 
“Again? How many clothes does he have for tonight?”
“Red carpet one, performance, accepting awards, later for photos with the awards and probably one for the after party. So about five. You didn't know?”
“He showed me just the two he already wore, bastard,” she giggled at the end. 
“Who’s a bastard?” 
YN snapped her head so quickly to where she heard her favourite voice from. There he stood in a green suit, silver silk shirt that was mostly unbuttoned that buttoned up and that smug look saying ‘I know it was me’. The cross necklace was diggling on his chest, making YN stop her eyes right there. 
“Eyes up here, my love.”
“I’m doing what you’re doing. We’re even.” YN smirked. She caught Harry countless times looking incredibly not-so-careful at her chest and legs tonight. “I’m appreciating the view, just for your information.”
“I do too.”
Harry bent over to place a quick kiss on her lips, “hello again.”
“You did great on stage. We danced for the whole song with Kid,” she whispered to his lips, glancing into his eyes. 
“Thank you. How did you get him to move his ass?”
“Not cool man!” Kid scolded Harry from YN’s right. 
“He’s a good dancer.”
“Sure. I saw you both. You looked great. Gonna dance with me tonight?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows, now sitting next to her on his designed chair. 
“I promised Lizzo to dance during her whole performance. She said that I’m the prettiest girl in the world. Apparently your words, huh?” YN smirked, looking at Harry’s lightly flushed face. 
“I might have said that,” he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. We didn’t consult on that.”
“It’s okay,” she calmed him, reassuringly squeezing his hands. “She is very lovely, just like you said she’d be. I can’t wait for her performance.”
The next performances of Wet Leg and Lewis Capaldi they both sat through and sang along, Only when the host introduced Lizzo, YN shot up from her chair, cheering for her new friend. Before meeting her YN was a big fan of her music but also her as a person. 
“In case nobody told you today, you’re special!” YN sang to Harry, who got up right after her ready to dance. 
“In case nobody made you believe, you’re special!” he sang back, stunning YN. 
“You know the words?”
“Of course I do!” 
YN moved a little away from their table to more open space, doing a ‘come here’ movement with her finger towards Harry, smirk on her beautiful face. Harry cupped her hands in his, just looking at her dancing, swaying perfectly to the music, feeling it with her whole body. 
Just when Lizzo hit the second verse, he spinned her to his chest, embracing her. Right hand on her lower back, left one holding her right. 
“Feeling bold?”
“You’re special,” Harry just sang to her, not feeling like answering such an easy question. He’d been and was going to be bold the whole evening. 
When the melody changed to 2 be loved, YN moved in front of Harry, pointing one finger in the air, screaming the lyrics. For a split second she wanted to mimic Lizzo’s amazing dancers but remembered the dress she was wearing. Harry put hands on her waist, singing right into her ear. 
Soon the next song started and Lizzo started walking towards the side of the stage where YN and Harry were dancing. 
“I see you, YN!” She shouted pointing a finger at the woman, smiling widely. “Get it, Harry!” 
YN laughed out loud, throwing her head on Harry’s shoulder who was laughing as well.
“She’s fucking amazing!” 
~~~~
“Here are the nominees for Best POP/R&B Artist!” announced Mo and the video played, displaying all of the people. 
YN squeezed Harry’s hand, reminding him she was right next to him, no matter what was going to be said next. Salma Hayek walked on stage, giving YN a weird feeling of certainty. 
“And the winner of the POP/R&B act is the one and only,” Salma deadpanned with a smirk. “Harry Styles.”
In the middle of taking their fifth shots of the night, YN and Harry smiled into the caulks. Putting them down Harry grinned and screamed ‘that’s right!’ giving high fives to people all over their table. Then he turned towards YN hiding in her neck. 
“Be right back,” he promised, kissing her neck quickly. 
The way to the stage was a bumpy ride because of all the people that wanted to congratulate him. When he finally made it, bowed towards Salma Hayek in appreciation and looked at the screens that were showing him. 
“Uhhh, thank you so so much for this. Uhm… first of all thank you,” he paused letting people scream for him as much as they wanted. “Uhh, first of all I know it’s a fan voted award, so to all my fans who voted - thank you, thank you, thank you so so much. I have so many wonderful memories at the BRITs, with these ones being very special to me.” He stole a quick glance towards YN that was standing up amongst all seated people, with hands clasped together near her face. Smile so big adoring her features.
“So thank you for adding to the memories from this night. It is so good to be home. Thank you so so much. Thank you.” And just like that he was off the stage, trying to move as quickly as possible to YN and kiss her properly. 
YN didn’t sit down yet, waiting for him to return and give him the biggest hug of his life. She was so proud of him. 
“One down!” Jeff exclaimed when Harry finally made it back. 
“Don’t jinx it!! Harry responded, not even giving Jeff a look, his eyes glued to his fiancee. 
“Celebratory shot?” he asked her, putting the BRIT award on the table. 
“One moment.” She took him in her arms and hugged him tightly. “I’m so so proud of you, my love. You deserve it so much,” YN whispered in his ear. 
“Thank you, baby. We wouldn’t be here without you, my inspiration.” 
Harry leaned down, capturing her lips in his, not caring if any cameras were pointed at them. The alcohol in his system was making him bolder, evoking YN’s words in his mind ‘you’re not holding your alcohol well’. Of course she was right. She knew him better than anyone. 
They cheered together for Wet Leg when they accepted the Best New Artist award. And then drank even more shots. They were absolutely going to get wasted. Harry was for sure. 
“Harry Styles!” screamed Lucien announcing British Artist Of The Year. 
Harry put his head down, chuckling to himself. 
“You did it again, baby!” YN said to him, while leaning towards his face. 
“Another.” He smirked at YN, making her laugh even more. He kissed her lips swiftly and ran on stage once more. 
“Uhm, thank you again. I wanna start by being a little more personal than usual. I wanna thank my family for being the most supportive, understanding, patient, loving family I could ever ask for. I wanna thank my mum for signing me for X-Factor without telling me. I wanna thank Niall, Louis, Liam and Zayn, I wouldn’t be without you here either.” He needed to pause because the scream that those four names caused were out of this world.  
“Thank you so much. My fiancée, who’s here with me, I -” 
If the noise in the O2 arena could get any louder, it was now. 
“I wouldn’t be on this stage, if not because of you, thank you. I am really, really grateful of this and am very aware of my privilege up here tonight, so this award is for Rina, Charlie, Florence, Mabel and Becky. Thank you so much!” He finished his speech, moving on backstage. 
~~~~
“Man, you’re wasted,” Jeff said to Harry after God knows how many shots he had had. 
“You didn’t see me wasted. Baby, remember me on your Grandfather’s name day? That was drunk, I couldn’t move the next morning,” Harry laughed, throwing his arm over YN’s shoulders, pulling her closer. 
They’d already moved their chairs, so they were touching their legs, but it wasn’t enough. Harry needed her as close as possible. 
“It wasn’t your best moment, I admit. But grandpa had a field day.”
“How was he sober after all day drinking?”
“It wasn’t as much as you think, you’re a lightweight, baby. Compared to him, you’re extremely inexperienced in this field.”
“True.”
“But you, YN, you’re doing just fine,” Kid joined the conversation. 
“Slavic girl!” Harry shouted, earning a slap to his thigh from YN. “Ow!”
“Told you to be careful with words around this topic,” she scolded him playfully, understanding exactly what he had meant. “Good genes, let’s say.”
Harry wanted to say more, but Shania Twain walking on stage made him silent. 
“Song Of The Year BRIT award goes to… Harry Styles ‘As It Was’.”
“Go there instead of me,” Harry said to YN. 
“Shut up.” She smiled, hugging him. “It’s your night, love.”
“Hello,” Harry started while on stage for the third time. “This album and song was the most fun I ever had making music. Uh, I wanna thank lots of people, Rob, Tom and Tyler. YN. Thank you to anyone who listened and,” he paused searching for someone in the crowd, YN already knowing what was to come. “Thank you, Lewis,” he faced Lewis Capaldi, already walking from the stage towards his Scottish friend. 
“What is he doing?” Jeff asked into the void. 
“He’s gonna kiss Lewis.”
Jeff opened his mouth in disbelief but soonly, closed it, nodding his head, “it sounds like something he’d do after drinking. You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be? He’d planned it for hours, wanted to thank Lewis for support and congratulate on the album. He sent it to Harry and we listened to it earlier this week. The Grammys are waiting for that man,” YN answered with a smile. Somewhere in the background Harry was pecking Lewis’ lips. 
“You never cease to amaze me.” He laughed, sipping on his colourful drink.
Before YN could respond in any way, Harry swept her from her feet, spinning them around. 
“Lewis says ‘thank you for listening to the album’ and says he’s gonna kiss you next. He’s collecting them like - what do people on the internet say? Like stones?”
“Infinity stones, yeah. Close enough, Harry. Show me the way,” YN challenged him, earning a tight squeeze to her waist. 
“Nope. My kisses.” He leaned towards her, but she pulled away. 
“You’re gonna kiss me right after kissing another man?”
“Anyone got a napkin?” He turned to the table. 
~~~~
“Baby, look! Stanley Tucci!” Harry exclaimed looking at the stage. 
Album Of The Year was the last award for tonight’s BRITs but also the last one that Harry was nominated for. Deep down YN hoped for it to be four out of four for Harry. It would be a confidence boost after the Grammy awards and all the hate people unnecessarily pour on him for other people’s decisions. She just wanted to see him happy. 
“And the winner is - Harry Styles!” 
Harry screamed, smashing his fists on the table in celebration. YN stood up, waiting to congratulate her fiance for the absolute win he gathered tonight. 
“I’m so proud of you!” 
“I love you so much. Gimme a kiss, I’m gonna hug Stanley Tucci and tell him I also love him,” he mumbled in her chest. He lifted his head enough to smash their lips together, taking much longer than sober Harry would. But it was his night, he was going to flood his fiancee in kisses even if the whole of the UK was watching him. What vodka could do to the person was beyond him. 
“There’s literally no one I love more in the World than Stanley Tucci!” Was the way Harry started his acceptance speech, making everybody laugh. “Wait, besides my beautiful fiancée, YN. I love you, baby, as much as Stanley Tucci, I promise!” He looked at YN, his eyes telling her everything she needed to know. 
“Thank you very much. This - uh - this night has been really really special to me and I’ll never forget it. Thank you so much for the welcome home, I appreciate it so much. There’s no place like home. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m so proud to be a British artist out there, celebrating British music. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m gonna celebrate now with my lovely fiancée. Have a good night!” 
YN after holding up pretty strongly for the whole night, now was in tears. Experiencing Harry’s success with him, being right next to him was so special and magical that tears sprang to her eyes, slowly making their way down her cheeks. If anyone asked her what she felt at the moment, she wouldn’t be able to pick suitable words. Nothing could explain her absolute pride, love, adoration and respect. 
“I have invitations to the Box, you both going?” Jeff interrupted YN’s crying session while admiring her fiance, giggling with Stanley Tucci. 
“Harry’s probably gonna sprint there,” she laughed, knowing him well enough. “For sure for a little while, don’t know how long he can last.” 
“I wouldn’t bet my money on it.”
“My love! Stanley Tucci said he loved me too!” Harry yelled, while strolling towards their table. “And you too. He said you’re a very beautiful young woman. I think he’s jealous of me. What do you say?”
“I say you are absolutely wasted.”
“Nah, I can handle more shots. Let’s do another round!” he moved to pour more vodka into their glasses. “Wait, did you see? I won the fourth one!” he expressed, showing her yet another BRIT award. 
“I saw it. I’m very proud of you. And I love you, too.”
“Thank you!” The smile on his face couldn’t get any bigger. “Can we celebrate now?”
“What have we been doing for the last four hours?”
“I mean -” Harry stood chest to chest with YN, smirking, suddenly looking all sobered up. “I mean I want to -” His face now next to her right ear whispering every dirty thought he had about her during those last four hours. “And then I would run you a bath with bubbles and - and that lavender oil, lit the candles, wash your back and hair. Then I’d give you a massage in bed and -” 
YN widened her eyes at all the naughty words Harry was spilling in her ear, his hand doing little circles on her lower back, daring its way even lower. Heat shot through her body, frustration taking over all other emotions. 
“So I think four for every award would be perfect, hmm? What do you think?” He took a brief look at her flushed face, feeling proud of himself. “And then I’d help you after all this, read you some Bronte and maybe I’d do the thing you like so much.”
“Thee thing?”
“Exactly that one. So, what do you say? You want to go home?”
Not trusting her speech to come out clear, YN nodded her head timidly. 
“Words, baby?” Harry licked his lips, stroking her cheek.
“Yes. Wanna go home.”
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