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leanteam43 · 2 months

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I have a criminal minds request! Spencer x Female Reader, where she has a very big crush on him but they coworkers and everyone else knows it but him. She is so scared to admit to him because they are friends and coworkers. But she tries to drop hints and be flirty, but he is too oblivious to know she like him And one day she is just like "I love you, you smart idiot!"

Hot Fudge Pop-Tarts and a Box of Runts

(Spencer Reid One-Shot)

summary : head-over-heels!reader x oblivious!spencer

pronouns : she/her | female!reader

warnings : SLOW BURN LIKE DANG GIRL SPEED IT UPPPP, crappy vending machine facts i googled, mild swearing, reader technically not getting proper nutrients but nothing serious at all, also not proof-read so cope </3

a/n's : i girlbossed gutair is making me a crochet derek morggan - 🌿 | HAPPY VALENTINES DAY (pretend this came out for valentines day - 🌿) - 🎸 | mowmowmowmowmow - 🐇

It was no secret, like...seriously. No secret.

It was bad enough the whole team knew, but once the entire office started catching on...(Y/N) could barely enter the same room as Reid before someone made a teasing comment.

Yet somehow, someway, Spencer Reid still had zero clue that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) had the biggest crush on him.

It really did start out as just an innocent crush. The way Spencer constantly seemed to gravitate towards (Y/N)'s cubicle, the way he always seemed to agree with (Y/N)'s profiles or the way Hotch constantly paired the two up when working a case.

So if you really thought about it, it was technically all Hotch's fault.

He had to have known that (Y/N)'s already budding affection for the Spencer would turn into something other than platonic.

It wasn't unjustified of (Y/N) to have a crush, I mean how could someone not have a crush on the infamous Dr. Spencer Reid?

From his charming smile, to that stupidly adorable satchel he carried around...(Y/N) honestly should've quit the first day she saw him if she wanted any chance of making it out alive.

And yet, no matter how many times he walked up to her desk to ask her opinion on a case. The crush only grew stronger.

The team certainly didn't help either.

"He never asks for my opinion on cases." Derek teased, leaning over (Y/N)'s cubicle wall. A cup of joe grasped tightly in his hand.

Before (Y/N) could answer, Emily chimed in. "Me neither!"

Both Derek and Emily looked towards Garcia who was on her way back to her 'BatCave' after dropping some files off on Hotch's desk.

"Nope!" She replied, already knowing the question that was soon to be flung at her.

Well that certainly had to mean something. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel heat rise to her cheeks as she realized just how often Spencer came clambering over to her desk asking about cases and reports.

Derek laughed, patting (Y/N) on the shoulder before returning to the report he'd been dragging his feet on all day.

----

Later that day, as (Y/N)'s workload was down to a few pieces of paperwork and a handful of emails. She found herself waltzing over to Spencer's desk, leaning against the cubicle in an attempt to seem relaxed.

It took a few moments for Reid to realize she was there, but when he did his big brown eyes trailed upwards like a puppy looking to it's owner.

He smiled, opening his mouth to talk but she cut him off beforehand. "Have you had lunch?" She asked boldly, mentally she was screaming at herself because of course Spencer had lunch. The man ran on a schedule.

A schedule she knew like the back of her hand.

"Oh! Yeah! I had leftover pad-thai." He smiles, his pen tapping against the desk rhythmically. (Y/N) let out a small "ohh..", trailing off into thought.

Spencer smiled at her, "...Did you need help on a case?" He asked, "No!" She shouted, before clearing her throat.

"No. I um- I wanted to see...if..." (Y/N) took a deep breath before biting the bullet. She was going to do this because she wanted too, because she wanted to spend time with Spencer. Alone.

"I wanted to see if you would be interested in accompanying me to the vending machine." She said, immediately regretting it when Spencer's brows furrowed and his head tilted.

"It's just down the hall?" He questioned, giving (Y/N) a puzzled look. "I don't like the snacks in that one." (Y/N) lied, she actually only liked the snacks in that one.

That totally wasn't the reason she originally wanted to be in the BAU though.

Spencer thought for a moment before he stood up, grabbing his water bottle on the way before waiting for (Y/N) to lead the way.

----

"Y'know, Derek's jealous." (Y/N) joked as they waited for the elevator to meet the bottom floor. "Jealous? Jealous of who?" He asked, his voice hitching like it always did when he asked a question.

"Of me" (Y/N) mumbled, trying to hide her smirk. "...because you don't ask him for help with cases...only me." (Y/N) added, the context causing Reid to laugh softly.

"Seriously? I thought Derek had a much stronger ego than that." He joked, (Y/N) wrinkled their nose up in laughter as the duo stepped out into the lobby of the building. Now in pursuit of the vending machines.

"I like how you format your reports." Reid commented as they turned a corner, in all honesty (Y/N) had zero clue where she was headed but as long as she pretended to be know where she was going, which she was scarily good at, Spencer would follow along.

"Really? Hotch said Strauss complained about them the first few times." (Y/N) remarked, a sense of pride spreading over her chest. Spencer liked the way she wrote her reports.

"It's easy to follow, but still detailed." He complimented, (Y/N) felt their ears turning a light shade of red.

----

After a lot of dead ends ( (Y/N) had words for the person who designed this building.), the duo had finally found the Lobby-Level vending machine.

"Y'know Florida holds the record for the most vending machines." Spencer noted as (Y/N) searched for what she wanted.

"Really?" She entertained. Unlike most of the team, (Y/N) never actually got tired of hearing Spencer's facts and statistics. In fact, she quite enjoyed them.

"Yeah! Texas and California being close runner-ups." He smiled, excited she'd taken interest in the fact he had spewed. "Don't mess with Texas." (Y/N) joked as she dialed in the correct numbers for the treats she wanted.

"That's all your eating for lunch?" Spencer asked, eyebrow raised. "It's not like we're traveling today, I don't need lots." (Y/N) shrugged. "But that's it? Just hot fudge Pop-Tarts and a box of Runts??" Spencer questioned.

"I'll be fine, you worry too much." (Y/N) laughed, picking up their treats and tucking them into her purse. Spencer rolled his eyes as he moved his hair away from his face.

As the two made their way back upstairs, (Y/N) couldn't help but stand a bit closer to Spencer. Even if there was nobody else there.

"Y'know Reid, your the only one I consult on cases too." (Y/N) shared, nervously biting the inside of her cheek as Spencer took a moment to reply.

"I know." Spencer replied, a smile evident in his tone. "Of course you know." (Y/N) teased, stepping out of the elevator.

Spencer laughed, beginning to make his way back over to his desk.

----

A few weeks had passed and Spencer hadn't missed a single trip down to the lobby vending machine.

"Y'know, you don't have to come with me." (Y/N) said, feeling bad she'd dragged Spencer away from his paperwork at least once a day.

"I know, but what if the vending machine like...falls on you?" Spencer joked, though the worry had popped up a few times in his mind. "In what world would that ever happen??" (Y/N) asked as she waited for her box of Runts to fall from the spiral.

"37 deaths happened just in the years 1978-1995." Spencer spewed, causing (Y/N) to roll her eyes. "Well, if that happens to me I promise you can sue to FBI and keep the money." She joked, picking up the boxed candy.

Spencer wrinkled his nose, "I don't want money, I want my coworker." He said. (Y/N) felt their heart beat faster. "Really? You'd take me over winning a lawsuit and getting rich?" She asked, eyes meeting his as he leaned against the wall.

"(Y/N), if I wanted to be rich I'd play more poker." He joked, causing (Y/N) to stifle a laugh. "It's still sweet." She mumbled, causing a light pink blush to spread across Spencer's face.

Holy Shit. She'd done it.

After working for him for over three years, after tirelessly trying to flirt with the man. She'd gotten Dr. Spencer Reid to blush.

Spencer blinked a few times before taking a deep breath, "Uh- are you going to Rossi's after work?" He asked, obviously trying to switch the subject.

(Y/N) didn't answer. Still flabbergasted over the fact Spencer Reid blushed because of her.

Spencer waited a reply, switching between glancing over at her and up to check the how many floors until they reached theirs.

"...(Y/N)?" He asked, his tone turning to one of concern.

Maybe it was the fact that (Y/N) had been surviving off of vending machine food for lunch everyday just to spend time with Spencer.

Or maybe it was the fact she'd waited 3+ years to get a blush out of Spencer.

Either way it didn't matter, because (Y/N)'s mouth started speaking before she could determine if what she was saying was a good idea.

"I like you." She said, there was no taking it back now. Not even the butterflies that instantly appeared in her stomach could take away what she'd just said.

Spencer's brow furrowed.

"Three. Years." She breathed. "I have liked you for over three years, Spencer." She said, her voice more confident now.

"(Y/N)-" Spencer's eyes glanced at the electronical sign that told him what floor they were on just for a moment before snapping back to her eyes.

"Over three years, I have...flirted with you, bought you gifts, I learned how to play chess." (Y/N) listed off on her fingers, the butterflies in her stomach turning to wasps.

"You love chess?" He said, tilting his head in confusion.

"THAT'S WHAT YOU CARE ABOUT?" (Y/N) yelled, "I hate chess. It's the most boring board game there is. My favorite board game is CANDYLAND." (Y/N) continued.

"I have put my love life on pause for over three years." (Y/N)'s voiced filled the elevator.

"For, you." She continued.

Her voice was so powerful, so full of frustration and desire that neither of the Agents heard the elevator 'Ding!' nor the door open.

"Spencer Reid you are the smartest idiot I have ever met." She finished, taking a deep breath.

The silence that followed was so thick, it couldn't have been cut with a butter knife.

"...I like you too, (Y/N)." Spencer muttered out, a deep shade of red overtaking his face.

Cheers.

Spencer and (Y/N) whipped their head towards the elevator doors, finally realizing that they'd opened.

There Derek and Garcia stood, cheering. Derek's arm in the way of the doors closing as Garcia excitedly bounced up in down spewing out excited nonsense. "Finally! Finally!" She cheered, her hair bouncing excitedly.

(Y/N)'s face turned hot with embarrassment as she looked between all three of her colleagues. Spencer's face was still red, but it was unclear for what reason.

(Y/N) pushed past both Garcia and Derek. Making a beeline for her desk, grabbing her car keys and rushing to the stairwell because the elevators were still too crowded.

"(Y/N)! Wait!" Spencer called after her, his lanky legs struggling to keep up. Reid didn't think he'd ever seen her run this fast in the field.

(Y/N), of course did not wait.

----

After both Garcia and Emily confirmed that (Y/N) hadn't quit her job out of pure embarrassment, all that was left to do is wait.

Hotch informed Spencer that (Y/N) would be coming back to work after a week, she'd used a whole sick week just to avoid the embarrassment.

Well, a week was up and Spencer was pacing by his desk looking at both the clock on the wall and his watch as if that would make time go by any faster.

Thankfully, the bundle of flowers he picked up from the supermarket yesterday hadn't begun to wilt. The hot fudge Pop-Tarts and box of runts were waiting patiently for (Y/N) to walk out of the elevator any second.

Spencer, however, was not waiting as patiently. "Kid, if you walk in one more circle your gonna tear the carpet." Derek mumbled, not taking his eyes away from the paperwork.

"What if she took another week off? What if she really did quit-"

DING!

Spencer's eyes immediately met yours as soon as you stepped into the bullpen. Then, he watched as your eyes trailed down to the flowers and treats he'd displayed on your desk.

A sweet smile was shared between the two of you. Spencer took initiation (it was only fair, you'd only been leading the way for over three years) and walked over to you, ignoring Derek's whispered encouragement.

"Spence, this is so sweet but...I think if I eat one more Pop-Tart I'm gonna actually need a sick week." (Y/N) said, laughing quietly.

"I KNEW IT!" Spencer yelled, causing her laughs to grow louder.

"You really are the smartest idiot I know." She joked, causing Spencer to roll his eyes.

Spencer smiled, "I uh...there's this place I like to go for lunch if-"

"Oh my god, yes." (Y/N) breathed, excitedly holding onto Spencer's arm. Spencer laughed, nodding.

"It's a date."

#criminal minds fluff #criminal minds preferences #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #derek morgan #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds headcannons #criminal minds drabbles #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid headcannons #dr spencer reid

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sbdskate · 11 months

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Laws of Attraction (Part 4) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings (18+): language, alcohol consumption, COPIOUS sexual themes, references to self pleasure, NSFW for a hot sec

Word Count: 5,548

A/N: Happy Enchante drop day! Remember that time I thought this was going to be a one shot? Well, here’s part 4 and apparently there will now be a part 5 which I’m pretty sure will be the last one unless there is an epilogue. Thank you for your patience, while I had a strong sense of the story I wanted to tell in the beginning, I’ve had some trouble trying to figure out how to wrap it up. As always, any feedback is welcome. If you enjoyed, please like, comment, and/or reblog xoxo

Daniel stood there dazed in the middle of the bar, unsure of what just happened. One minute, he and y/n were dancing and laughing, then you were suddenly gone. He felt sad, but he couldn’t pinpoint why.

He barely had a second to reflect when people started swarming him, men and women alike, trying to find their way into the driver’s orbit. Some of them just wanted pictures, some tried to make small talk or flirt. Despite being surrounded be people clamoring for just a fraction of his attention, he was incredibly alone.

It was late, he was tired, and it was time to leave.

By the following weekend for the Mexico Grand Prix, you had not spoken to your client since that night in the bar. You wished you had blacked out so you could simply pretend it didn’t happen, or blame your behavior on the excess alcohol, but unfortunately for you your memory of the night was crystal clear. The scene replayed over and over in your head. First comes the shame, at how much you enjoyed the feeling of his touch on your waist and the warmth of your bodies pressed against one another. You wonder what might have happened if you had closed the tiny gap between your lips. Would it have stayed a drunken bar make out session or would it have overflowed to the hotel? Would you have gone to his room or yours? Would it have been sloppy and desperate or slow and sensual? Would he be a gentleman in the morning or would he kick you out? When you finish going through every single permutation of what could have been, that’s when the embarrassment sets in. Embarrassment that you let the whole thing happen and that you basically ran away without an explanation, saying goodbye, or much else. Finally, the wave of guilt over abandoning him after an emotional weekend when he probably needed you most. You couldn’t see how you could come back from this.

Fortunately you hadn’t had a reason to be in the same room together, but that would soon be coming to an end. Despite the temptation of margaritas and empanadas and tropical sun outside, you mostly stayed in your hotel room, throwing yourself deeper into your work and trying anything to distract yourself from the anxiety of the unknown fallout from what may or may not have occurred in Austin. There was a lot of positive movement happening with both Mercedes and Red Bull, which you should have been ecstatic to share with your client. And yet you were terrified to make contact with him.

As things seemed to be coming to a head in reserve driver negotiations, the partner set up an in-person client meeting on the morning of press day. You hadn’t been this nervous the first time you met Daniel or going into hostile negotiations against Zak Brown and McLaren. You changed outfits no less than seven times before heading out and no amount of power posing made you feel any better. Normally you would have gotten to the meeting at least fifteen minutes early, but you were worried Daniel would show up before Joe which would leave the two of you by yourselves. You uncharacteristically arrived on time, and ended up being the last person to join the meeting. You could tell Joe was slightly annoyed.

“Y/N, so nice of you to join us.”

You cringed. “Sorry. There was…uh, traffic.” You knew it was a lame excuse, but you couldn’t be bothered. You glanced over at Daniel, but he kept his eyes focused on the desk. For a meeting that should have been filled with excitement over the prospect of possibility, it felt somewhat somber.

You went over where he stood with Mercedes and Red Bull. The discussions between Daniel and the teams had been successfully kept under wraps until the last week or so, when a photo of Toto in an Enchante sweatshirt began circulating the internet. Though nothing was finalized, sleuthing fans thought this was an obvious hint that Daniel had signed with Mercedes. While it wasn’t the end of the world, you had hoped Daniel would be able to make his decision without the pressure of public comment or opinion. You were sure he had the mental fortitude to do so regardless, but you felt the need to protect him beyond your professional fiduciary obligations. He had already been through enough.

You pressed through the meeting, keeping your comments technical and brief. As usual you exchanged handshakes at the end before going your separate ways, though he hardly looked your way before he turned to leave. Once out of the room, Joe began to discuss next steps with you but his words went in one ear and out the other. You felt nauseous as the growing pit in your stomach failed to subdue. You thought back again to the night at the bar and your abrupt departure, and the last few days where you easily could have sent a text to reassure him or ease the tension, but you didn’t. You were the attorney and you were responsible for maintaining the attorney-client relationship, which you failed. You had to go find him.

You cut your boss off as politely as you could. “I’m so sorry, sir, I just realized… I forgot my, uh, charger! And I need to… respond to another client’s email. So I have to go.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Are you ok? You seem flustered today.”

“I’m fine!” You were absolutely off your game, but you didn’t want to show him any signs of weakness. “Just, jetlagged?” You mentally slapped yourself as soon as the words came out of your mouth. While it might have worked for almost any other F1 race on the calendar, Austin and Mexico City were in the same time zone. The partner knew something was up, but he had too many other things to worry about than the mental breakdown of a low level associate.

“Ok. But I expect a draft of redlines by the end of the day.”

You were practically already out the door as you called out “Thank you, sir! I’ll be sure to get those to you as soon as possible!”

You were running around the paddock like a crazy person, unceremoniously shoving media personnel out of the way. You made your way through the maze of hallways and offices, the click-clack of your high heels announcing your presence before you got to wherever you were going.

In your haste, you didn’t notice running past Lando.

“Y/N!”

“Can’t! Don’t have time!” you called back, not even bothering to figure out who was addressing you.

“Y/N! It’s me, would slow down for two seconds?”

Finally, you stopped and turned. “Oh thank goodness.” You doubled over, huffing and puffing from the unexpected cardio. “You can help me. Where’s Daniel?” you asked between breaths.

“He went to his dressing room after your meeting. Whe-?”

You were already around the corner before he finished his sentence. “Great, thanks!”

You barreled your way towards Daniel, your run turning into a lame waddle from the constrictions of your shoes and pencil skirt. You did not pause when you arrived at your destination and pushed the door open without knocking. You doubled over again and leaned against the wall once inside.

“Can I help you?”

You were so exhausted you almost missed the fact that the driver was shirtless. It was a sight to behold, especially after months of imagining what might be underneath. Your eyes lingered longer than they should have on his toned pecs, moving their way down to his chiseled abs and the “v” that pointed its way to his pants. You knew he was still upset with you, but it didn’t stop the small smirk threatening its way to his face. But you were a woman on a mission and you refused to be distracted.

“I’m sorry,” you got out, still panting. “I fucked up.” You looked away while he put a McLaren shirt on, taking the moment to catch your breath.

He sat down and motioned for you to do the same, which you graciously accepted. He took you in. In the span of less than an hour, it felt as though he was looking at before and after photos of an ad but in reverse. You seemed so composed during the meeting and now here you were, blazer lopsided and unbuttoned, hair tousled, sweat beading at your forehead, cheeks flushed, and breathless. It was simultaneously hilarious and insanely hot, but he wasn’t going to let on anything at this point.

“What the hell happened?”

You started talking a mile a minute. “I wanted to talk to you right after the meeting, but Joe wanted to talk about next steps and I tried to get away as soon as I could, but then I couldn’t find you –“

“Not now you dodo, last week after the race.” You blinked a few times. Now that he was in front of you, the thoughts running in your mind from before went blank. He came to your rescue, filling in the silence.

“All I know, is that we were having a good time and then you left me in the middle of a bar by myself without saying goodbye after one of the shittiest races of my life. I haven’t heard from you since, and I know you haven’t been hungover for four days straight. I appreciate you coming in here and apologizing, but respectfully, what the fuck.”

You looked away in shame. You weren’t sure how you were going to handle this without disclosing your feelings. You took a deep breath and swallowed your pride, proceeding cautiously.

“What happened at the bar, and how I acted afterwards, is entirely a me problem and I could have been more… strategicabout how I handled it.

“Strategic!?” You winced and closed your eyes, immediately regretting your choice of words. Clearly insulted, he continued. “Strategic is how you describe a Bond villain, or a business deal, not how you treat a friend-“

You jumped out of your chair, interrupting him out of frustration. “Don’t you get it? That’s the whole problem!” You couldn’t tell if you wanted to hold his hand or punch a wall. “I love that you are basically the human equivalent of a golden retriever. I love how comfortable we are together, and I’m a firm believer that you do better work when you know and like the people you work with. But you are my work at the end of the day. You are my client. There’s literally a whole ethics exam that is separate from the bar exam and it’s really easy. (1) Don’t comingle funds; and (2) don’t sleep with your client.” He raised an eyebrow. You sat back down.

“Obviously, nothing happened on Sunday. But… it felt like it toed the line of what is acceptable in my professional capacity. I know this is probably very one sided and it’s all in my head, but it felt like something could have. If Joe or anyone else ever found out, I could lose my job or my license over something like this. That being said, I do not blame you one bit. I’m the one that let things get out of hand, and I realized it in a single moment, and I freaked out, and left. And I’m sorry. For all of it.”

Daniel looked at the floor, his cheeks dusted slightly pink as he processed your admission. “It wasn’t in your head,” he whispered. His gaze rose to meet yours, but you covered your face with your hands.

“Fuck, don’t tell me that.” You tried to keep your tone light as if you were trying to joke it off, but you were very serious. You had convinced yourself this was a delusional fantasy of your mind’s creation, which would have been very easy to let go. But now it had been spoken into existence with the revelation that those feelings were reciprocated. It had legs and took up space. It was terrifying. You sighed as you slouched back in your chair, feeling defeated and mind reeling. “Look. Let’s just chalk this up to the fact that we’ve been spending a stupid amount of time together for the last however many months. Can we please just pretend last weekend never happened so we can move past this?”

Daniel sat for a moment. Of course he had forgiven you as soon as you stampeded your way into his room. There was a lot about Texas he wanted to forget, but his day with you was not one of them. Maybe you were right that the feelings the two of you evidently had for each other were just the product of forced proximity, but right now he didn’t want to believe that. Time and time again this season when he felt like he couldn’t go on, you had been there with support and compassion. You grounded him while he mellowed your intensity. You provided logic and reason while he extracted adventure and vulnerability. He was Yin and you were Yang. You couldn’t make up a connection like that. Yet, he would never want be the reason you lose your license, let alone the job you love so much.

Looking at you now, all he wanted to do was scoop you up and kiss you. Instead, he stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

You smiled softly, giving a firm handshake. “Thanks.” You paused. “So, we’re good… right?”

Of course you were. How could you not be? He had a million things he wanted to say. Instead, all he could get out was: “Yeah. We’re good.”

You weren’t sure what was in the water. Maybe it was you, or next year’s team prospects, or simply the energy of Mexico, but Daniel gave his best performance of the season finishing a strong P7. For the first time since you met him, a genuine smile graced the driver post-race. Professionally, you knew this would be great to leverage in finalizing negotiations. But as his friend, your heart was exploding with pride. The crowd was roaring in celebration, everyone was a Daniel Ricciardo fan. After a tough season, you had forgotten this side of him. What you wouldn’t do for those dimples. You kept your distance though, allowing him to revel in the spotlight. It was killing you not to run up to him, but you wouldn’t have been able to get to him if you tried.

The post-race interviews would probably take a while so you decided to head out. As you fought your way through the media, you felt someone tap your shoulder. You assumed it was just standard foot traffic, so you kept moving until you heard someone call your name. You were shocked to find Christian Horner trying to flag you down.

“Y/N!”

“Christian! What a pleasant surprise, I assumed you would be busy.”

“I saw my favorite lawyer walk by, I had to say hello.”

Christian was an interesting character. Admittedly you had not looked forward to working across the table from him initially. He came across as arrogant, hypocritical, and conniving. You thought his only redeeming quality was that he was married to Ginger Spice, but soon found that was only second to how much he cared about Daniel. Given how Daniel departed Red Bull all those years ago, you wrongly assumed that bridge had been burned so you were nervous when you first approached the team for negotiations. It was quickly apparent how unfounded those feelings were after the first email. Christian was there when Daniel made his F1 debut in 2009 as an awkward teenager and watched him grow and molded him into a seasoned driver. It was clear he would give him both kidneys in a pinch.

“Honored and humbled,” you teased. You were almost shouting due to the swarm that quickly surrounded you due to Christian’s presence. You continued walking, “Running away from interviews now, are we?”

“Funny you should say that. I am, because I keep getting some interesting questions about a certain third driver seat.” He was being coy, and knew exactly what he was doing with all the journalists around you. “Are there any updates I can report back on?” He was more persistent than a used car salesman.

“None at the moment, I’m afraid. I promise you’ll be the second person I tell when I do.”

“Second? Who has me beat?”

“Your wife, of course.”

“Maybe if this thing closes, Geri might be open to grab some celebratory drinks.”

“I don’t know Christian, that sounds like a bribe to me.”

“Good seeing you as always, counselor.”

You laughed as you parted ways. You had been able to fly under the radar, until recently when snooty media noticed you going in and out of various meetings. You thought everyone would leave you alone when Christian left, but a few eagle-eyed personnel stayed with you.

“Does this mean that Daniel Ricciardo has a home for next year?”

“Can you confirm Daniel is going to Red Bull?”

“I’m unable to disclose any information, those discussions are protected by attorney-client privilege.”

Legal obligations be damned, the handful of media continued to follow you. You repeated the same statement in eight different ways, you tried ignoring them to no avail. You continued walking, hoping at a certain point they’d give up. Certainly there were at least a hundred other people around the paddock significantly more important and interesting than you.

“I think you guys confused the pretty lady for me?” You recognized the voice immediately. You were thankful for your savior shifting the attention away from you, except that the swarm around you returned ten-fold in an instant. The Australian entertained their questions while helping you navigate the crowd. You knew he and his PR advisor had prepped for this, and you were impressed how he skillfully dodged their questions while making them feel as though they had gotten a profound, headline-worthy snippet.

He fought the instinct to put his hand on your back to help guide you through the mob. You stayed close though, unnerved by the increasing number of people around you. As you continued to walk side-by-side, unsuccessfully willing yourself to become invisible, your fingers grazed. Instinctively, you flinched and pulled your hand away at the contact. He continued engaging with the media but took a moment to meet your eyes. His gaze was not judgmental nor offended, instead offering you reassurance. You realized how silly you were being and dropped your hand. The tips of your pinkies momentarily met again and the warm feeling you felt in the bar before everything went sideways came bubbling back. Only this time it made you feel safe and secure, not scared or embarrassed.

“As fun as this has been guys, I have big plans with some tequila shots and a mariachi band that I must attend to.” Even his excuses could charm the pants off the most scrutinizing reporter. He politely excused the two of you, pulling you away into McLaren hospitality. The doors shut behind you, immediately muffling the outside noise.

“Is it always like that?”

He took one look at you and burst out laughing. You might be able to keep certain thoughts to yourself, but often times your facial expressions gave you away as they did now. Your eyes, wide and unblinking. Your mouth, contorted into downward frown. In the distance, *sirens*.

“Don’t laugh, that was traumatizing!” you whined.

“In all fairness, it didn’t always used to be this bad. But you get used to it.”

“Please, you were born to be in the spotlight. The camera loves you.”

“Just the camera?”

You gave him your most aggressive side eye. It was hardly an appropriate comment given your conversation on press day, but you knew he was just joking. You raised your hands. “You know what, that’s on me. I walked into that one.”

“Had to go for the low hanging fruit.”

You looked around. McLaren hospitality was quiet, but not empty. You hoped no one noticed the light flirtation that was taking place. You changed the topic.

“I forgot to say congratulations on today! You must be so proud of yourself.”

“Yeah, it feels nice.” You know what else feels nice? “It’s been such a long, hard season. Y’know?” You know what else is long and hard? “I’ve just been really pounding away with trainings and everything -” You know what else you can pound?

You smiled and nodded while you continued to tally the that’s-what-she-said jokes and innuendos in your head.

“- and I feel like there’s been this gaping hole -” Surely he has got to hear himself.

You bit your lower lip to keep from giggling and cursed yourself for your filthy mind and having the sense of humor of a twelve year old boy.

“-but all in all it’s been a good day, yeah?” Finally.

“Yes, for sure. I’m really happy for you.” There was a pregnant pause before either of you spoke again. He could tell that you were distracted though he wasn’t sure why. You were concerned about keeping yourself in check.

“Anyways, this has been lovely as always. Enjoy the rest of your night, I don’t want to keep you from your Mariachi band.”

“You’re not going to celebrate?”

You looked around, again being mindful of potential witnesses. “What are you talking about, we’ve been celebrating your points finish since the end of the race. You go have fun, I was just going to stay here and get some work done until things clear out a bit more.”

“Not for me. It’s Halloween, you know.”

Actually, you had completely forgotten. But you quickly realized where this conversation was heading. “That’s nice.”

“Lando wants to show off his DJ side hustle at some club. It will be fun.”

“Now there’s something spooky,” you said sarcastically.

“You should come.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

The stare down between you continued as you went about your delicate dance around the elephant in the room. He took a step towards you and grabbed you gently by the shoulders.

“Nothing will happen. Promise,” he whispered. You looked up at him.

“I don’t have a costume,” you lightly countered.

“We’ll get you one.”

You pursed your lips. You had a million other excuses in your head, but you trusted him. How could you say no?

It had been a while since you had been in a club, and truthfully you weren’t sure you were cut out for it any more as you approached thirty. The flashing lights and heavy bass were giving you a migraine. That being said, it was a very different experience than you remember and being the guest of a VIP had its significant perks. When you got to the venue you almost didn’t even get out of the car when you saw the line down several blocks. As it so happens, when you’re a Formula 1 driver you can skip the line. And get attentive bottle service as opposed to fighting your way to the bar and pray the bartender notices you. Not to mention easy access to the DJ booth. As he had assured you, there were plenty of other people around to act as buffers.

Sure enough, Lando was at the helm of the DJ booth along with his girlfriend and a few of the other drivers and their respective significant others. As soon as the others saw you, they burst out into laughter. If you were ever concerned whether you could ever fit into Daniel’s world, this experience quelled any uncertainty. What Daniel’s skeleton costume lacked in creativity, yours’ made up for in leaps and bounds. Why be a sexy nurse or police officer when you could be American Daniel Ricciardo? American flag bomber jacket, cowboy hat, belt buckle, poorly drawn facial hair and all - which looked even sillier given your short stature. It was clear the resourceful last-minute look was well-received and earned you a warm welcome.

As the night went on and the drinks flowed, you leaned more into your Danny Ric persona including donning a poor Australian accent. Daniel continued to converse with the other drivers but watched you from a distance, trying to remain respectful of your prior agreement. Even with your face covered in smudged eye makeup to mimic his beard, he loved seeing you in his clothes. You were practically swimming in his jacket and he was sure it was the cutest thing he had ever witnessed. When you thought no one else was looking, you subtly grabbed the collar and gave it a sniff, deeply inhaling the owner’s fragrance.

Seeing you try to pick up his scent caused something primal in him to awaken. In another world he would have put on his usual moves to woo a lady back to his hotel room, which admittedly didn’t take much. First, he would buy you a drink. Then after some short flirty back and forth, he would move the two of you to the dancefloor. He would be behind you while you grinded - in a club packed like this, your bodies would be pressed closely together. He would place his hands on your waist and slowly move them down to your hips, rubbing small circles with his thumbs. Eventually he would leave kisses on the side of your neck, while finding your hands to hold. He would spin you around and ask if you wanted to go back to his place. Inevitably you would say yes, and the two of you would leave and begin your makeout session in the back of his private car to avoid suspicion by nosy paparazzi. Finally when you arrive at your final destination, he would fuck you senseless.

His mind was reeling at the possibilities. But you were no ordinary lady and you didn’t deserve his usual moves. You deserved so much more. And he couldn’t give you any of it.

Meanwhile, the constancy you had to stay away from your muse diminished as the night went on. The champagne was easily accessible and went down even easier. The club was hot and stuffy, though it was unclear if it was from everyone’s collective body heat, the Mexican climate, or both. You decided to take off the jacket, wrapping it around your waist, leaving in you a plain white tank top. It was far from being the most scandalous outfit in the room, but Daniel was doing everything in his power not to stare. It was a stark contrast from the conservative suits and dresses he’d gotten used to seeing you in, showing off every curve of your body. Again, he should have been turned off by the beard makeup alone but it endearingly complimented the cleavage that threatened to spill its way out of your shirt. Eventually you found yourself next to him again.

“G’day mate,” you said tipping his hat. You weren’t sloppy, but it was obvious that your usual social filter was long gone.

“Is that absolutely necessary?”

“What are you talking about, I’m Daniel Ricciardo. This is my voice. Pew pew pew” you gave him some finger guns and blew them out before returning them to their imaginary holsters. He couldn’t help but laugh.

“That is by far the worst Australian accent I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“I can switch to Steve Erwin if you want.”

“Please don’t.” You ignored him.

“Crikey! Here we see the Formula 1 Driver in his natural habitat.” You gestured over to Pierre shamelessly trying to flirt with a model with a bottle of Ace in hand. “Ah yes, the young male has spotted a potential mate. We will now get to witness his intricate mating ritual.”

He watched your face as you continued your animated nature documentary play-by-play of Pierre. He always felt lucky when he got to see this side of you. Silly, unfiltered, and unincumbered by responsibility.

He leaned into you. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“I am. Are you having fun – oh!” Someone had pushed their way past you forcing you to fall into the driver, inadvertently smushing your bodies together. He placed a protective hand on the small of your back further pulling you into him while trying not to spill the drink in his other hand. The buzzing returned with a vengeance. It was hard to ignore the soft of your breasts pressed against his muscly torso. You blushed profusely at the new sensation of your hips meeting, feeling the bulge of his pants against your pelvis.

“Are you ok?” You finally pulled your bodies away from each other, your cheeks on fire from the heavy and unfamiliar contact.

“Oh I’m fine. But on that note, I should probably head back.” You hoped he would he would attribute your flush to all the champagne you consumed, and prayed your “beard” was covering for you. The fluttering sensation between your legs refused to cease.

“Ok, I’ll call the car.”

“No, no, I can just call an uber it’s fine.”

“You shouldn’t leave by yourself.” It took a minute for you to realize he was looking out for your safety, not inviting himself to your hotel room. You again felt embarrassed at your own misinterpretation.

“I don’t want to make you leave though, you should keep celebrating.”

“I’ve celebrated enough, I’m happy and tired and ready to go.”

“Are you sure?” He smiled and turned his hand into a fake phone.

“I’m calling it,” he said into his hand. You laughed at the reference to the joke he had with Lando about ‘calling it a day,’ thankful that he found a way to break the tension.

The car ride back to the hotel was relatively quiet. You squeezed your legs together to quell the growing heat below your waist and kept your hands in your lap to prevent them from accidentally wandering. Your heart rate had not slowed since you bumped into one another. You closed your eyes to try to center yourself and redirect the energy of your raging hormones.

Two feet away, Daniel was in a very similar situation dealing with his own demons. The smell of your perfume mixed with this own cologne intoxicated him. He forced himself to think of his home in Perth to keep his mind from wondering to all the ways you could be bent right then and there in the back seat.

You thanked the driver getting out of the car. The walk to your respective rooms felt like an eternity. You pressed for your floor when you got in the elevator and waited for him to do the same, but he did not move.

“What floor are you?”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walk you to your room.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“I just want to make sure you’re safe.” You looked at him from the corner of your eye.

“Fine. I’ll allow it.”

You again stood there in silence side by side as you waited to reach your floor. You cursed the mirrored walls of the elevator. With a few drinks in you, you allowed your lidded eyes to wander all over Daniel’s reflection from the neck down. Fortunately for you he didn’t notice your ogling, but only because he was doing the same thing. In the middle of your respective daydreams, your pinkies accidentally grazed again, pulling you back to reality. Your eyes finally met in the mirror.

“Sorry,” you said under your breath, taking a step away from your client.

“All good.” You both diverted your gazes for the rest of the short ride. You got off the elevator and walked to your room.

“Well, this is me.” You paused, finally making eye contact again. “Thanks for inviting me out, I had fun tonight.”

“Me too.”

“Oh, before I forget here’s your hat and jacket.” You went to remove the hat but he stopped you.

��Don’t worry about it, they look better on you anyways.” It was a questionably appropriate line, but he didn’t care. At this point, neither did you.

“I’m not sure when I’ll wear them again, but thanks.” You smiled to yourself, your hands fidgeting with the fabric of his jacket. He was still looking at you when you looked back up. The chatty driver was uncharacteristically quiet. You were both stalling, though it was unclear what for. You decided to rip off the band-aid.

“Good night Mr. Ricciardo, congratulations again.”

“Good night y/n. I’ll see you in Brazil.”

“I’ll see you in Brazil,” you repeated.

When the door shut, he placed his hand on it for a moment. His mind, again, going to all of the places that were off-limits. With a sigh he left for his room.

On the other side, you leaned your head against the door and squeezed your eyes shut. Sloppily undoing your jeans, you stuck a hand down your underwear to offer relief from the building tension. You were soaked. With reckless abandon, you grabbed your vibrator and shamelessly indulged yourself in the filthiest fantasies regarding your client the rest of the night.

Taglist: @ravenqueen27 @leslizzle @wewoo1233 @monzabee

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 year

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Dr. Feel Good

Pairing: JoeQuinnxReader

Summary: After Joe said he'd be a therapist if he wasn't an actor, I couldn't get it out of my head. It had to be written. You're dating Joe, who is a therapist, and you can't stop fantasizing about him taking you on the couch in his office. So, you decide to make it a reality.

18+ Only

You entered the building, making your way up the stairs to the office of Dr. Quinn, your boyfriend. You knew he was done with patients for the day. The two of you had reservations at a new Italian restaurant in town in a couple hours and you knew he would be spending that time revising his notes, getting ready for tomorrow’s patients.

Smoothing down your skirt, you pushed the door to the main office open, delighted to see that Brenda, his secretary, was already gone for the day. Your plan required the office to be empty. Joe would never be convinced if he thought anyone could hear. It was going to be hard to convince him as it was.

Peeking into his office, you saw your boyfriend hard at work, glasses slipping down the bridge of that adorable nose, brow furrowed in deep concentration as he read his notes on whatever patient he’d seen last that day. However, tonight, you intended on being his last patient.

You’d been fantasizing about it for months, unable to get the image out of your head. You lying back on his couch, admitting all your naughtiest thoughts to him. Joe shifting in his leather chair as he tried to hide his obvious arousal. Him making his way to you, taking you hard and fast on that couch where so many others had poured out their problems. Maybe it was wrong, but you wouldn’t be satisfied until you fulfilled this fantasy.

You rapped your knuckles lightly against the doorframe and he glanced up, beautifully full lips curving into a smile when he saw it was you. The soft light of the lamp on the desk casting him in an ethereal glow, those brown eyes as warm as freshly baked bread as they roamed over your body, taking in the high heels, the short skit, the fitted top that put your breasts on full display.

“Darling, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, tapping his pen against the top of the walnut desk. “I thought we were meeting at the restaurant at nine. Am I wrong?”

“No,” you mused, slowly stepping, purposefully placing one foot over the other as you made your way to his couch. “I was thinking we could have an appetizer first.” You sat down, running your hands over the soft leather.

“Sweetheart, what are you up to?” he asked suspiciously.

“You know, Doctor, I haven’t been sleeping well,” you began, silently hoping he would go along with this. You knew how professional he was and you were nervous he was going to shut you down. You laid back on the couch, propping your heeled feet on the end. “My mind won’t stop spinning at night, all these dirty thoughts keeping me awake.”

“Darling, what is this?” he asked, his tone serious but you sensed a hint of curiosity in there.

“I know it’s wrong but I can’t stop thinking about you, Doctor,” you breathed, running your hands over your breasts and down your torso. “I keep thinking about what your mouth would feel like on my breasts, what your fingers would feel like on my pussy, and how amazing your cock would feel stretching me out, making me scream.”

Joe’s eyes went wide, “Are you serious? Sweetheart, this is highly inappropriate. This is my place of business. We can’t…”

“I know it’s inappropriate, Doctor, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I want you to bend me over this couch and fuck me hard and rough, pulling my hair, choking me, calling me dirty names. I don’t think I will ever be able to sleep until it happens. Can’t you help me, Doctor?”

You turned your head, eyes meeting Joe’s, pleading with him to play along as you pulled your skirt up over your knees, spreading your legs just enough for him to see that you weren’t wearing any underwear. Heat pooled in your center as, just like in your fantasy, Joe visibility shifted in his chair, his hand coming to his crotch to adjust his pants.

“You are so fucking bad,” he breathed, slowly rising from his chair. He made his way over to you, running his finger along your leg, up your thigh. “Do you need my help, love?”

You nodded, biting your lower lip, “I do. I need it so bad.”

One of Joe’s hands came to his belt, undoing it, sliding it from the loops of his pants. He folded it in half, his other hand grabbing onto your arm, yanking you off the couch and spinning you.

“Get on all fours,” he commanded. You did as you were told, your pussy vibrating with anticipation of finally getting what you’d been aching for. He lifted your skirt, draping it over your hips, exposing you to him. Joe raised his arm, bringing the belt down against your ass, the sound of it slapping against your skin echoing through the office. “Bad girls need to be punished and you are being a very bad girl.”

“Yes…I’m so bad…” you groaned, fingers gripping the arm of the couch as the belt connected with your skin again. You cried out at the stinging pleasure.

“You want me to take you on this couch? You want to feel my hands all over you? You want me to make you scream?” he growled into your ear, palming your pussy. You whimpered, frantically nodding as Joe took a fistful of your hair in his hand, pulling your head back so you rose onto your knees, your back pressed against him. Two fingers plunged into you roughly and you cried out. “You love that, don’t you, you dirty little cunt?”

“Yes, yes!” you gasped, arching against him.

“Tell me you love it,” he commanded, curving his fingers, causing you to writhe, barely capable of coherent sounds.

“I…oh fuck…I love it…I love it!”

“You love what?”

“I love when you fuck me with your fingers!”

“You want more, bad girl?”

“Yes!”

Joe added a third finger, stretching you further. Your legs tried to clamp closed but Joe nudged them with his knee, spreading you even more. Your entire body trembled at the intense sensations that were crashing over you. His free hand wrapped around your throat, his fingers thrusting hard and fast.

“You’re such a dirty girl,” he hissed, squeezing just enough to cut off your air supply. Just as spots were clouding your vision, he released the tension and you gasped, sucking in oxygen. “My needy little cunt, coming to my office, just begging for it.”

“Jesus…” you mewled, thighs quivering at his words, your body right on the edge.

“Don’t you dare fucking come, darling,” commanded Joe, his fingers slipping from your body. “I own this pussy. It’s mine. You don’t get to come until I say so and I want you to come around this cock.”

He gripped your waist, pulling you to him, his mouth devouring yours, tongue dominating, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. Then he spun you, pressing against your back so you were arched over the arm of the couch. Joe undid his pants, shoving them down to his ankles and then he was driving into you so hard your hands grabbed onto the fabric to steady yourself.

“Yes. Fuck darling, your pussy is so goddamn wet,” he groaned, fisting your hair once again, using it as leverage as he thrust into you, the sound of your bodies colliding forcefully ringing in your ears. “Bloody hell, the feel of you under me is so goddamn addicting. You like it rough, don’t you, my dirty girl?”

“Yes! Never stop,” you groaned, the side of your face pressed into the couch, the fabric rubbing over your clit, applying pressure that was so damn good. He’d told you not come but fuck, you needed to. You were so close. “Doctor, your cock feels so good. I need to come, please!”

“Does my naughty little slut want to come?” he asked, tugging at your hair. His other hand gripped your breast, pinching your nipple and pulling at it roughly.

“Please…” you whimpered pathetically, “please, I need it so bad.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he mused, leaning forward. “Come for me, darling.”

“Joe!” you screamed, your body arching as wave upon wave of your release rolled over you. Joe never ceased his merciless thrusting, slamming into you again and again as you crested. The grip on your hair tightened, pulling back harshly as he let out an animalistic grunt, his body tensing behind you and you felt his release as it filled you.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbled, collapsing forward over you, pressing his lips against your back. He slowly rose, pulling out and grabbed a towel from the bathroom, gently helping you clean up. You carefully stood on shaky legs, turning to him. Joe smiled, running his thumb along your cheekbone. “Well, that was a delicious appetizer before dinner.”

“Yeah, it was. Jesus…that was so much hotter than I even imagined,” you gasped, still unsteady.

Joe grabbed your arms and leaned in, his lips right next to your ear. “Now, after dinner, I am thinking about dessert. And I know exactly what I want. I am planning on licking that sweet little pussy for hours.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn stranger things #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn smut #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn x you #joe quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn x you

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harrisonstories · 7 months

Text

So here's something interesting...

The Beatles Derek Taylor Never-Before-Heard Collection of Lost Beatles Recordings: Including the 1967 Kenwood Sessions and John Lennon Private Recordings

This is the track listing from the description:

Tape 1: Unheard Beatles Sgt Pepper Rehearsals from Kenwood late 66 early 67

Run time is 56 minutes, songs include:

Revolution #9, mainly John in many accents, George can be heard, Paul too, Ringo one time, Terry Doran is also heard being interviewed by John, Terry Doran was ‘The Man From The Motor Trade’ on Sgt Pepper, every identical animal sound effect from Good Morning Good Morning is featured throughout, probably pre-dates Pepper and John has the sound effects saved, cockerel, hens, sheep, horse, pigs, cat, dogs etc, the very ones used on Pepper. Sitar drones almost all the way through by George, Piano backdrop also

Track Listing:

That much Control

Monte Carlo rally sound effects Terry Doran is Jack Brabham Formula 1 racer

Cat Feeding Services (Monty Python esque sketch)

A million miles away, John Indian accent Beatles far east tours in 66

Crazy banjo song, JL bellows

I’m aware of the situation monologue

Swing your partners

Lennon.McCartney complaining about the heat

John and George shouting over a very loud backing track

John/Paul counting in 123 testing, JL turns it into a poem.

Dear Prudence very early demo John wrote it way before 1968

British Police are pigs, in an Indian accent

Tape 2: George Harrison With the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band and Jimmy Page.

15 tracks, 59 minutes George with his Thames Valley muso friends, Jimmy Page, Jon Lord, Joe Brown, Sam Brown, Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah band (Neil Innes, Legs Larry Smith, Vivian Stanshall) Alvin Lee, all songs written by the Bonzos and George, all recorded at FP.

Track Listing:

George into talk while playing guitar, introducing a new song

Brazil take 1 written for the Handmade films project Brazil (never went to production)

Brazil take 2

Brazil Take 3

Sooty Goes to Hawaii

Mandalay monologue for handmade films production of the same name

Sooty Goes to Hawaii #2

Sooty Goes to Hawaii #3

Operatic Aria sung by Georges father-in-law and Olivia Harrisons dad Zeke Harrison, I doubt that Olivia has heard this

Bullshot theme song for Handmade films completed production.

Hare Krishna chant by everyone

Chant 2

While my Guitar Gently weeps with Jimmy Page on guitar

Same with Alvin Lee on guitar

if I Needed Someone

Tape 3: George with Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band band, all co-written 25.30 mins, 16 tracks

Track Listing:

Intro Legs Larry Smith

Do You Remember

Nothing Ever Changes

Urban Spaceman

Isle of Money (I Love Money)

Can you Groove (George)

There’s a Bright Golden Boil on my Penis

I Like Cesar

Misery Farm

Julie

Danda

When You Gotta Poop

Now You’re Asleep

Telling me The End

Viv Has Gone to Heaven

Mandalay Monologue #2

Tape 4: John Interviews Yoko 1969

Recorded by John in 1969, 45 minutes, John questions Yoko’s motives for being with him, discusses very personal matters, very revealing.

Tape 5: Yoko with Dr. Artur Janov

Yoko’s Primal Scream therapy 1 hr 40 mins, of very personal therapy, Yoko discusses John, music and very personal issues including John’s friendship with George.

Tape 6: “One From The Nursery” Unreleased John Ono Lennon Album

John and Kyoko Cox Tittenhurst Park

Run time is 47 minutes

4 tracks

Lots of John talking and playing acoustic guitar (sounds like his J60E) recorded at Christmas time, Various songs stand out, all written by John & Kyoko

John, I Love You

I Wish You Were my Father.

#john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #the beatles #derek taylor #yoko ono #a lot to unpack here

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mcytblrsexymen · 1 year

Text

Highlights from the Data Crunching Group Chat.

[ID: Screenshot reading CallMeKevin (look at his skin. Gilf)]

[ID: screenshot reading rtgame especially when he goes batshit crazy on his 100 player worlds]

[ID: screenshot reading Joe HIlls, specifically when he had long hair and a moustache, I can provide an image as to why that was very sexyman of him]

[ID: Screenshot reading Skyblock Randomizer Wilbur Soot]

[ID: Screenshot reading Ace Race because I saw other people were voting it and yeah what the fuck was wilbur doing there]

[ID: Screenshot reading i would say jimmy but hes way too pathetic]

[ID: screenshot reading my name has been pixlriffs, my writer has been ZloyXP, captions on this entry were provided by lyrrah]

[ID: Screenshot reading Crouching Sapnap]

[ID: Screenshot reading Docm77 from real life]

[ID: screenshot reading Joe Hills (this is about the chain pics), Finnster]

[ID: Screenshot reading Nominating the same cc three times in a single doc isn't excessive right]

[ID: screenshot reading Wilbur (Tommy's mod video, the one with the .. mules...)]

[ID: screenshot reading

Joehills, I feel bad for him]

[ID: Screenshot reading "E" which is clearly a vote for Technoblade]

[ID: Screenshot reading Bdubs does not at all deserve the treat but I am nothing if not a sucker for pathetic men with big brown eyes of a cow]

[ID: Screenshot reading Phiddies. sorry. so, Hardcore? Philza]

[ID: Screenshot reading Sausage because I know this would make him happy. Is this why you been making the thinly veiled innuendos, sir??]

[Screenshot reading AMONG US SCOTT SMAJOR, sorry I got real excited and had to submit this immediately when I saw the anon, amongus scott smajor ticks all the boxes. hes a killer hes a liar hes my little cyan meow meow]

[ID: Screenshot reading banana Ranboo from MCC. yellow]

[ID: screenshot reading Thank you for doing gods truly unhinged work.]

[ID: Screenshot showing three votes: Dr. Trayaurus, Xornoth, Empires season 2 Jimmy]

#Data Crunch Group Chat

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best-supermassive-character · 8 months

Text

Pairs from Round 1:

1. ‌The Curator x Dr. Hill – Nick Kay x Salim Othman x Jason Kolchek – Jacob Custos x Nick Furcillo

2. ‌Fliss DuBois x Julia – Laura Kearney x Hannah Washington – Kate Wilder x Julia

3. ‌Hannah Washington x Jessica Riley – Matt Taylor x Ashley Brown – Salim Othman x Dar Basri

4. ‌John x Angela – Conrad x Jacob Custos – Kate Wilder x Jamie Tiergan

5. ‌Mike Munroe x Jessica Riley – Conrad x Beer x Rachel King – Conrad x Fliss DuBois

6. ‌Daniel x Taylor – Hannah Washington x Emily Davis – Nathan Merwin x Joey Gomez

7. ‌Charlie Anderson x Hodgson expedition – Rachel King x Clarice Stokes – Nick Kay x Salim Othman

8. ‌Jeff Whitman x Marie Whitman – Emily Davis x Ashley Brown – Revenant Carver x Judge Wyman

9. ‌Abraham Alastor x Tabitha Milton – Alex Smith x Julia – Nick Kay x Rachel King

10. ‌Kurum x Balathu – Lady Bradshaw x Ellis van Huyten – Hannah Washington x Ashley Brown

11. ‌Emma Mountebank x Kaitlyn Ka – Eric King x Nick Kay – Eric King x Nick Kay x Rachel King

12. ‌Beth Washington x Emily Davis – Beth Washington x Sam Giddings

13. ‌Jason Kolchek x Salim Othman – Erin Keenan x Rachel King

14. ‌Mike Munroe x Jessica Riley x Emily Davis – Conrad x Brad Smith

15. ‌Granthem Du'Met x Kate Wilder – Granthem Du'Met x Jamie Tiergan

16. ‌Mark Nestor x Kate Wilder x Jamie Tiergan x Erin Keenan – Adam Jones x Jonathan Finn

17. ‌Emily Davis x Jessica Riley – Kate Wilder x Erin Keenan

18. ‌Joseph Lambert x Amy Lambert – Mark Nestor x Kate Wilder

19. ‌Joe Roberts x Charlie Anderson – Tanya Clarke x Vince Barnes

20. ‌Danny x Olson – Ashley Brown x Chris Hartley x Josh Washington

21. ‌Emily Davis x Sam Giddings – The Curator x Player

22. ‌Dylan Lenivy x Chainsaw – Tabitha Milton x Taylor

23. ‌Brad Smith x Fliss DuBois – Emma Mountebank x Abigail Blyg

24. ‌Beth Washington x Laura Kearney – Conrad x Brad Smith x Fliss DuBois

25. ‌Kaitlyn Ka x Ryan Erzahler x Dylan Lenivy – Jamie Tiergan x Erin Keenan

26. ‌Laura Kearney x Kaitlyn Ka – Granthem Du'Met x Erin Keenan

27. ‌Laura Kearney x Max Brinly – Sam Giddings x Jessica Riley

28. ‌Conrad x Josh Washington – Emma Mountebank x Kaylee Hackett

29. ‌Matt Taylor x Jessica Riley – Brad Smith x Dylan Lenivy

30. ‌Rachel King x The Ancient One – Dar Basri x Eric King

31. ‌Ashley Brown x Jessica Riley – Kate Wilder x Erin Keenan x Jamie Tiergan

32. ‌Chris Hartley x Ashley Brown – Ryan Erzahler x Dylan Lenivy

33. ‌Kate Wilder x The Curator – Becky Marney x Felicity Graves

34. ‌Sam Giddings x Hannah Washington – Nick Furcillo x Abigail Blyg

35. ‌Josh Washington x Chris Hartley – Laura Kearney x Travis Hackett

36. ‌Max Brinly x Laura Kearney x Travis Hackett – Nick Kay x Jason Kolchek

37. ‌Josh Washington x Jessica Riley – Kate Wilder x Shelby

38. Fliss DuBois x Julia - Mark Nestor x Joseph Morello 39. Emily Davis x Ashley Brown - Kate Wilder x Michelle Morello

#smg pairing tournament #supermassive games tournament #tournament #house of ashes #little hope #man of medan #the devil in me #the quarry #until dawn #the dark pictures #the dark pictures anthology #not a poll

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the-hottest-band-tournament · 1 month

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Band lineups

This will include all the band and what lineups have been submitted. It will be updated as more submissions come in. (Not complete at all)

Guns’N Roses: Axl Rose, Slash, Izzy Stradlin, Duff McKagan and Steven Adler

Mötley Crüe: Vince Neil, Mick Mars, Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee

Queen: Freddie Mercury, Brian May, John Deacon and Roger Taylor

Hanoi Rocks: Michael Monroe, Andy McCoy, Nasty Suicide, Razzle and Sami Yafta

Iron Maiden: Bruce Dickinson, Dave Murray, Adrian Smith, Steve Harris and Nicko McBrain

Poison: Bret Michaels, C.C. Deville, Bobby Dall and Rikki Rockett

Rush: Geddy Lee, Alex Lifeson and Neil Peart

Anthrax: Frank Bello, Joey Belladonna, Scott Ian, Charlie Benante and Dan Spitz

Possessed: Jeff Becerra, Mike Torrao, Larry LaLonde and Mike Sus

Bon Jovi: Jon Bon Jovi, David Bryan, Tico Torres, Alec John Such and Richie Sambora

Skid Row: Sebastian Bach, Dave Sabo, Scotti Hill, Rachel Bolan and Rob Affuso

Talking Heads: David Byrne, Chris Frantz, Tina Weymouth and Jerry Harrison

Warrant: Jani Lane, Joey Allen, Erik Turner, Steven Sweet and Jerry Dixon

The Cure: Robert Smith, Simon Gallup, Lol Tolhurst, Roger O'Donnell, Porl Thompson and Boris Williams

The Bangles: Susanna Hoffs, Vicki Peterson, Debbi Peterson and Michael Steele

Def Leppard: Rick Savage, Phil Collen, Steve Clark, Rick Allen and Joe Elliott

The Traveling Wilburys: Nelson Wilbury (George Harrison), Otis Wilbury (Jeff Lynne), Charlie T. Wilbury Jr (Tom Petty), Lefty Wilbury (Roy Orbison), Lucky Wilbury (Bob Dylan)

U2: Bono, The Edge, Adam Clayton and Larry Mullen Jr.

Dokken: Don Dokken, Mick Brown, Jeff Pilsen and George Lynch

Blondie: Clem Burke, Jimmy Destri, Nigel Harrison, Deborah Harry, Frank Infante and Chris Stein

Duran Duran: Simon Le Bon, Nick Rhodes, John Taylor, Andy Taylor and Roger Taylor

Quiet Riot: Kevin DuBrow, Carlos Cavazo , Rudy Sarzo and Frankie Banali

Aerosmith: Steven Tyler, Joe Perry, Brad Whitford, Tom Hamilton and Joey Kramer

Dio: Ronnie James Dio, Vinny Appice, Jimmy Bain and Vivian Campbell

Metallica: James Hetfield, Kirk Hammett, Cliff Burton and Lars Ulrich

Winger: Kip Winger, Reb Beach, Paul Taylor and Rod Morgenstein

The Human League: Ian Burden, Philip Oakley, Susan Ann Sulley, Joanne Catherall, Jo Callis, Jim Russell and Philip Adrian Wright

The Clash: Joe Strummer, Mick Jones, Paul Simonon and Topper Headon

Cinderella: Tom Keiffer, Eric Brittingham, Jeff LeBar and Jim Drinec

Nirvana: Kurt Cobain, Krist Novoselic and Chad Channing

The Smiths: Morrissey, Johnny Marr, Andy Rourke and Mike Joyce

The Police: Sting, Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland

They Might Be Giants: John Linnell and John Flansburgh

Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band: Bruce Springsteen, Clarence Clemons, Garry Tallent, Roy Bittan, Danny Federici, Max Weinberg, Nils Lofgren and Patti Scialfa

R.E.M.: Bill Berry, Peter Buck, Mike Mills and Michael Stipe

Spın̈al Tap: David St. Hubbins (Michael McKean), Nigel Tufnel (Christopher Guest), Smalls (Harry Shearer), Viv Savage (David Kaff) and Mick Shrimpton (Ric Parnell)

Tin Machine: David Bowie, Reeves Gabrels, Tony Fox Sales and Hunt Sales

Red Hot Chili Peppers: Anthony Kiedis, Flea, Chad Smith and John Frusciante

ZZ Top: Billy Gibbons, Dusty Hill and Frank Beard

AC/DC: Brian Johnson, Angus Young, Malcolm Young, Cliff Williams, Phil Rudd

Beastie Boys: Adam "Ad-Rock" Horovitz, Adam "MCA" Yauch and Michael "Mike D" Diamond

Depeche Mode: Dave Gahan, Martin Gore, Alan Wilder and Andy Fletcher

The Pogues: Shane MacGowan, James Fearnley, Jen Finer, Terry Woods, Peter “Spider” Stacy, Andrew Ranken, Darryl Hunt and Philip Chevron

Bauhaus: Peter Murphy, Daniel Ash, Kevin Haskins and David J

Prince and the Revolution: Prince, Bobby, Brown Mark, Wendy Melvoin, Lisa Coleman and Matt "Dr." Fink

Joy Division: Ian Curtis, Bernard Summer, Peter Hook and Stephen Morris

Fleetwood Mac: Lindsey Buckingham, Stevie Nicks, Christine McVie, John McVie and Mick Fleetwood

Devo: Gerald Casale, Mark Mothersbaugh, Bob "Bob 1" Mothersbaugh, Bob "Bob 2" Casale and Alan Myers

Van Halen: David Lee Roth, Eddie Van Halen, Michael Anthony and Alex Van Halen

Van Halen (Hagar era): Sammy Hagar, Eddie Van Halen, Michael Anthony and Alex Van Halen

Led Zeppelin: Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Paul Jones and John Bonham

Joan Jett and the Blackhearts: Joan Jett, Ricky Byrd, Gary Ryan and Lee Crystal

Genesis: Tony Banks, Mike Rutherford and Phil Collins

Primus: Les Claypool, Larry "Ler" LaLonde and Tim "Herb" Alexander

Ramones: Joey Ramone, Johnny Ramone, Dee Dee Ramone and Marky Ramone

Yes: Jon Anderson, Trevor Rabin, Chris Squire, Tony Kaye andAlan White

Siouxsie and the Banshees: Siouxsie Soux, Steven Severin, Budgie and John McGeoch

Kraftwerk: Ralf Hütter, Florian Schneider and Karl Bartos

The Alan Parsons Project: Alan Parsons and Eric Woolfson

Hall and Oates: Daryl Hall and John Oates

Echo and the Bunnymen:Ian McCulloch, Will Sergeant, Les Pattinson and Pete De Freitas

Tears for Fears: Curt Smith, Roland Ozabal, Ian Stanley and Manny Elias

The Psychedelic Furs: Richard butler, Tim butler, John Ashton and Vince Ely

Misfits:Glenn Danzig, Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein, Jerry Only and Arthur Googy

Living Colour: Corey Glover, Vernon Reid, Muzz Skillings and Will Calhoun

XTC:Andy Partridge, Colin Moulding and Dave Gregory

Adam and the Ants: Adam Ant, Marco Pirroni, Merrick, Terry Lee Miall and Gary Tibbs

Run-DMC: Joseph "Run" Simmons, Darryl "D.M.C." McDaniels and Jam Master Jay

King Crimson: Adrian Belew, Robert Fripp, Tony Levin and Bill Bruford

Public Enemy: Chuck D, Flavor Flav, Terminator X, The Bomb Squad and Professor Griff

KISS: Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons, Eric Carr and Bruce Kulick

N.W.A.: Eazy-E, Ice Cube, MC Rend, Dr. Dre , DJ Yella and Arabian Prince

Whitesnake: David Coverdale, John Sykes, Neil Murray, Aynsley Dunbar and Don Airey

Black Sabbath: Ronnie James Dio, Tony Iommi, Geezer Butler and Bill Ward

Deep Purple: Ian Gillan, Ritchie Blackmore, John Lord, Roger Glover and Ian Paice

L.A. Guns: Phil Lewis, Tracii Guns, Mick Cripps, Kelly Nickels, Nickey Alexander and Steve Riley

W.A.S.P.: Blackie Lawless, Chris Holmes, Randy Piper and Tony Richards

The B-52’s: Kate Pierson, Cindy Wilson, Fred Schneider, Ricky Wilson and Keith Strickland

Vixen: Jan Kuehnemund, Janet Gardner, Share Ross and Roxy Petrucci

The Go Go’s: Belinda Carlisle, Jane Weidlin, Charlotte Caffey, Gina Schock and Kathy Valentine

The Residents: Hardy Fox, All other members have remained anonymous by choice, instead performing with masks on. There are four active Residents in live shows, though it is unknown how many have joined or left the group or been active at any given time.

Pretenders: Chrissie Hynde, Robbie McIntosh, Malcolm Foster and Martin Chamber

Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers: Tom Petty, Mike Campbell, Benmont Tench, Howie Epstein and Stan Lynch

Asia: John Wetton, Geoff Downes, Steve Howe and Carl Palmer

Jethro Tull: Ian Anderson, Martin Barre, Doane Perry, Peter-John Vettese and Dave Pegg

Green Day: Billie Joe Armstrong, Mike Dirnt and John Kiffmeyer

Journey: Steve Perry, Neal Schon, Gregg Rolie, Ross Valory and Steve Smith

Wham!: George Michael and Andrew Ridgeley

Pet Shop Boys: Chris Lowe and Neil Tennant

The Who: Roger Daltrey, Pete Townshend, John Entwistle and Kenney Jones

Scorpions: Klaus Meine, Rudolf Schenker, Matthias Jabs, Francis Buchholz and Herman Rarebell

Heart: Ann Wilson, Nancy Wilson, Howard Leese, Mark Andes and Denny Carmassi

Ratt: Stephen Pearce, Robbin Crosby, Warren DeMartini, Bobby Blotzer and Juan Croucier

The Beach Boys: Mike Love, Al Jardine, Carl Wilson, Bruce Johnston and Brian Wilson

Queensrÿche: Geoff Tate, Michael Wilton, Chris DeGarmo, Eddie Jackson and Scott Rockenfield

The Cars:

Foreigner:

Marillion:

GWAR:

Max Webster:

Twisted Sister:

Stray Cats:

Megadeth:

The Stone Roses:

Slayer:

Operation Ivy:

Bam Bam:

Cybotron:

#80s bands #hottest 80s band tourney

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