#buttons from michaels!!! i need buttons! i will go do that!
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something we don’t talk about when we talk about nico rosberg, and honestly even though it involved being a horrendous cunt, is that he did what generations of drivers have tried and failed to do - he refused to be made second driver and still walked away with his championship.
like think about that. there are so many people in my memory, and many more before that, that fell to that hurdle by accepting their fate or switching teams and making the wrong call, or just never quite getting there. you’ve got valtteri and daniel and mark webber and felipe massa and before that you have rubens barrichello and david coulthard and eddie irvine and so on and so on. and they either had some moment of quiet resignation to it or they let it completely destroy them, sometimes both.
nico rosberg was the part of the foundations of mercedes. he was there since it took the name mercedes and was brought in to play second fiddle to michael fucking schumacher, and then he outdrove him every damn day, when the mercedes wasn’t championship contention material but was outclassing the rest of the midfield. i remember it so well when you had button and hamilton at mclaren, vettel and webber were at red bull, and alonso and massa were at ferrari. you had no idea what was gonna happen with that top six but you could count on one thing like clockwork, nico rosberg would be seventh, making that scrappy little bastard of a car sing.
and then lewis arrived when schumi left and people assumed nico would play that second fiddle like he hadn’t won them the lion’s share of the points with schumi in the other car. no one gave him his due. and then the car was a winning car and he was suddenly a winner, someone no one had ever rated from that stacked as hell grid. and lewis already had his championship. he wanted more, sure, but he didn’t need to prove that he had it in him the way nico did with his dad and everything else hanging over his head.
let’s not beat around the bush, mercedes wanted him to be second driver. toto came in with lewis and didn’t respect what nico had achieved under ross brawn. lewis was already a championship winner even if nico knew the car and the team much better. certainly the management at mercedes were never on his side once toto took the reigns. and lewis must have expected it somewhat too, it’s just how teams work. and his long-standing teammate at that point had been jenson, who had just as many championships and seniority in the sport, which made them as close to equals as possible and also frustrated lewis no end at that time because on some days he was second driver. it was owed to him, at last, to have a teammate whose only job was to prop him up.
i’m not saying if it was the right decision, or the ethical decision, or a decision that he doesn’t deeply and intimately regret, but the point at which nico had to say to himself no, lewis isn’t allowed to do this to me, no i won’t be second fiddle, not even to my best friend, must have required such strength of conviction like sport has never seen. and yeah it’s sad to think that a championship ended a friendship that old and that caring, but reframe it for a moment. what must it have felt like to escape out from under the thumb of schumacher who was never ever going to support nico, who could be affable outside racing but had a long history of being the meanest of sports on the grid, and think finally, a friend, someone to support and care for me, someone who wants me to win just like i want him to win, and be told no, it’s just the same as it was. like yes this is work, but imagine what that would do to you in any career - a fellow artist, a fellow businessman - to be told that your friend, in any context, sees you as an obstacle to overcome, or even worse just a tool to get ahead.
like we make fun of that - look at the man that sold his soul for a championship - but so did everyone else, so did lewis even. we have no idea who went first in sacrificing the friendship to the flames but we do know it was the first time nico ever fucked someone over in the sport. he’d never driven a winning car before. lewis had, and lord knows he learnt well enough from fernando, from jenson even.
nico had never had the opportunity to do it, and even when he was teammates with schumi, it was a noticeably sedate schumi racing in a midfield car. there wasn’t a championship for him to snatch at like he had done before. and that must do damage to you, as someone that’s never been at that kind of desperate infighting team before. and to have someone who is supposed to love you more than anyone else on the grid right there in it, in your first true experience of it? ooft.
then you think about him retiring, right after he’s finally done it. he must have wanted to step away before hand but imagine that friendship up in smoke and to go away empty-handed, with nothing to show for it. so he says no, i have to have this championship. all this had to have been for something. think about keke, who won one world championship pretty much by accident. how he won because the front runners on the grid that season died in those cars. and what had just happened to poor old jules. and how keke has always insisted that nico is his greatest achievement, not his championship, his son. and nico has just become a father. think about how important his daughters are to him, how much he loves them. how he was burning down his relationship with vivian too just to get this stupid title, these stupid trophies.
and maybe some part of him thinks i can fix this, i can have lewis back if i just put the weapons down, if i walk away. but lewis doesn’t see it like that - he sees it as cowardly, that nico took something from him and didn’t give him the chance to get it back, even though held already proved over and over and over that he could beat nico, that he was definitively the better driver. but nico only had to be better once - keke won his championship with a single race win to his name that season and it was enough. goddamit it was enough. and even if it hurt him to give up being in that car, nico had things that were more important. just once was enough for him in a way it never could be for lewis. lewis has nothing else, no partner, no children, no real friends at that point. of course he could never understand. maybe he envied nico in that moment, for once to be enough, but lewis never had that luxury.
god it’s so tragic, but nico really did achieve the impossible.
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Tutor Me
michael gavey x bimbo!reader
A/N: this was a request so i hope you enjoy! thank you to bel for putting michael creaming in his pants in my head.
TW: SMUT!! michael is mean and then he cums in his pants, this is the most filthy thing i've written perhaps
word count: 2,099 words
You knock three times on Michael Gavey’s door and flinch when he opens it just as you lay down the third knock.
Was he waiting at the door for you?
He’s almost annoyed by your presence before he takes in what you’re wearing, a tiny, lacy, pink, babydoll crop-top with a slit from your belly button to just below your breasts and the tiniest little white skirt that falls just below your bum. Oh, and don’t get him started on the godforsaken thigh-highs, the things are practically lethal.
“Um, Earth to Michael?” You wave a hand in front of his face to try and snap him back into reality. The poor man is starstruck at just the sight of you.
“S-Sorry yes… come in.” He stutters and steps back so you can walk in.
You brush it off and strut into his room, sitting down on his bed. Oh god how he loves the sight of you on his bed with your skirt riding up ever so slightly and your plush thighs pressed together. You hold your textbook in your lap as he stares at you once again, clenching his hands into fists in an attempt to get his cock to stop rising.
“Are we going to get started?” You ask, trying to snap him out of it once again.
“Started with what?” He blurts out.
“Trig?”
“Oh yes, of course - sorry.” He mumbles and wipes his hands on his palms before apprehensively sitting next to you.
You open up your book and show him the problems you were struggling with.
“These are the questions you’re struggling to comprehend?” He asks condescendingly. “There aren’t many thoughts in that pretty little head of yours, are there?” He seems to get back to his old self with ease.
“Don’t be cruel.” You say with a huff. “Not everyone is as smart as you.”
“Clearly.”
“You won’t speak to me like this if you’re going to tutor me.” You say firmly.
“You can’t make demands when i’m doing you a favour.” He scoffs.
“You’re actually doing Ms. Jameson a favour and i’m sure she would be very disappointed if you couldn’t follow through.”
Michael grumbles something about how he wouldn’t be the one who wasn’t following through but sighs anyhow and begins to look at your attempts that you’ve written under each question. You cross your arms a bit smugly.
“Nothing else to say?” You taunt him.
“I’m trying to be nice…” He trails off when he glances up at you, noticing how your arms are crossed - noticing the way the action pushes up your tits.
You might be a little ditzy but you’re not that ditzy. “Are you really staring at my tits right now?”
“What? No - are you that full of yourself?” He sputters out, his cheeks turning red.
“You don’t spend much time around women, do you?” You giggle.
“Of course I do!” He protests and then grumbles out, “And i’m the rude one?”
“Michael, have you ever kissed a girl?” You ask a little gently.
“I’ve kissed loads!” He claims but his cheeks get redder.
“Oh well then. I was going to offer to teach you but there’s clearly no need.”
He’s silent for a moment, a long moment.
“Out.” He says finally.
“What?”
“Stop fucking with me like that and get out of my room.” He is clearly embarrassed, thinking you’re playing some cruel prank on him.
“I’m not messing with you.” You say but he’s already getting your things together.
“Like hell you’re not.” He shoves your things into your hands and stands to get the door. You put your stuff back down.
“I’m not leaving,”
“Yes you are. I won’t have you making a fool out of me and then giggling about it with your little friends.” He grabs your wrist to pull you to your feet.
“I don’t think you’re a fool. I like you.” You say earnestly.
“Bullshit.” He says but he isn’t dragging you to the door yet.
“I do, Michael. I think you’re cute.” He searches your eyes for dishonesty but the blush on your cheeks makes him inclined to believe you.
“Y-You do?” His eyes soften.
“I do.”
“And you’re not taking the mickey out of me?” He asks one more time, just to be sure.
You shake your head. “I’m not.”
“You really want to kiss me?’
“Only if you tell me the truth about how many girls you’ve kissed… and if you close that door.” You say sweetly.
Michael practically slams the door with haste and proceeds to lock it. “I haven’t kissed any girls.” He admits.
That was easy.
“Can we kiss now?” He asks eagerly and you giggle.
“Sit down on the bed.”
He does so right away, wiping his palms on the covers. You walk over to him slowly, so you can tease him even more. He gulps as you perch yourself right on his lap, straddling both his legs and oh boy do you feel how hard he is immediately. He’s bigger than you expected and you can tell even through his trousers.
“Are you ready?” You ask as you rub your hands up and down his chest and he nods swiftly in response. “Okay…” You whisper out before leaning in slowly to brush your lips gently against his. It’s definitely more than a peck but doesn’t leave him anywhere near satisfied. “How was that?”
“Good but I think we should do it again to be sure.” He says, clearly flustered.
“I think so too, but this time, you’ll open your mouth a bit.”
“O-Okay.” He breathes out and you press your lips against his once again, kissing him with more pressure this time. He opens his mouth and you slip your tongue past his lips to touch his tongue for a moment before pulling it back. He whimpers into your mouth and the two of you begin to properly makeout at this point as Michael grows his confidence. He is an… aggressive kisser so to say but it’s clearly because of how excited he is. You’ve never seen someone act so excited to just kiss you before. You lift his hands as you kiss him and place them on your waist. He immediately begins to squeeze at the soft flesh and he groans at the feeling. He then begins to subconsciously rock you back and forth over his crotch so he can gain some friction. The poor boy is so close to creaming in his pants that he actually whines when you pull away. His lips try to chase yours as you do but you push at his chest to stop him.
“Did I do something wrong?” He asks nervously as his hands continue to knead at your skin, never straying from your waist.
“No.” You say, finding his concern sweet.
“Then why’d you stop?” He asks and you find it cute at how such an egotistic man is reduced to using puppy-dog eyes.
“Well, you’re always staring at my tits. I thought you’d like to see them for real.” His eyes light up.
“That would um… be nice.” He tries to say casually and you giggle at his response.
You take off your babydoll top and you’ve never felt more flattered. He looks at you like a kid on christmas, as if your tits came gift-wrapped with a bow.
“Oh god.” He groans out, looking mesmerised.
“You can touch them if you want.” You say and you could imagine that his face would be the same as a man who has just won the lottery.
He is almost apprehensive at first as if you’ll slap him and storm off the moment he touches them but he lifts his hands anyhow and places them gently on your chest.
“They’re so soft… and plush.” You can feel his hips moving from under you and when he gives your tits a good squeeze, he also moans, bucking his hips up hard.
Then you realize.
He just came in his pants.
When you glance down, he realizes that you know what just happened.
“Oh god, i’m so fucking sorry. Fuck.” He lifts you off his lap with surprising ease so he can cover his crotch with his hands. He stands up, with his back facing you so he doesn’t have to look at what he expects to be, a disappointed look on your face.
“Michael-”
“I’m sorry.”
“Just look at me-”
“That’s so bloody humiliating.”
He is clearly in some sort of a state so you roll your eyes, but then an idea pops into your head. You pull your lacy, wet panties off and throw them right over his shoulder. They land right on the desk in front of him. Michael freezes. He knows right away what they are and reaches to pick them up, getting rock hard again when he feels how wet they are. Without a second thought, he brings them up to his nose and inhales. He’ll for sure have those wrapped around his cock when you’re not around.
You’re laying back on his bed when he turns back around, your thigh-highs still on and your skirt hiked up around your waist. His eyes then fall to your glistening cunt.
“I still need to be fucked, Michael.”
He’s on you in a second, kissing you ravenously as he unbuckles his belt. When his cock is finally out, he pauses.
“I don’t have any condoms.” He’s embarrassed but he’s never had a need for them before.
“I’m on the pill. Do what feels good.” You say, wanting him as much as he wants you.
He does exactly as you advise and does as he pleases, slamming himself in, all the way to the hilt and relishing the feeling of you squeezing around him.
“Jesus - fuck.” You curse.
“What’s wrong?” He asks with concern as you hold his hips to keep him still.
“Usually when a man - how do I put this lightly… has a massive horse cock, they enter a bit slower.”
“I’ll pull out then.” He says, trying to find a solution as he gets halfway out, dragging a whimper out of you.
“No, no!” You whine, your eyes rolling back in your head from this pleasure of having him inside you.
“No?” He grins a little.
“I just needed to adjust.”
“To my huge dick?”
Great, another thing for him to be cocky about.
“Fuck you.” You murmur.
“I think i’ll be doing the fucking.” He says playfully as he gives an experimental thrust back into you. When he sees your pleased expression, he begins to fuck you harder, loving the way his cock looks slipping in and out of your dripping cunt.
“Mmm, Michael.” You moan when he hits your sweet-spot so he continues to bully the head of his cock against it.
“Getting all dumb again? Think if I asked you a trig question, you’d be able to answer?” He teases as he bruises your cervix.
You squeeze around him in retaliation. “Would you?”
His hips stutter a bit and he gets more sloppy. You remember now that he’s a virgin and you’re impressed that he didn’t just cum right away.
“F-Fuck.”
He begins to truly realize what he’s actually doing. The hottest girl in school is almost fully naked on his bed with his cock balls deep inside of her. He’s going to take full advantage of the situation.
“You’re so pretty.” He says and looks down at your breasts. “Your tits are so pretty too.” He leans down to kiss them, sucking on your nipple. “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this. Please let me do it again.”
He isn’t even finished and he’s already begging for more. His pace begins to slow as he keeps sucking on your tits and you know he’s close so you squeeze around him. This time, the action makes him orgasm and thick, hot spurts of cum spill inside you. He lays down on you, happily using your chest as a pillow.
“This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He says in a very tired voice. “Did you like it?” He asks.
“Very much.” You say truthfully as you run your fingers through his hair.
He then lifts his head to look at you. “Did you um… cum?”
“Well… no.” His face drops and he feels like he’s failed. He’s also nervous that you won’t like him anymore. “It’s okay though. I never taught you how.”
He thinks on that for a moment and then the sad look leaves his face.
“Let me eat your pussy then.”
taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi
#michael gavey#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey smut#saltburn smut#saltburn#ewanverse#ewan mitchell
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princess treatment - michael kaiser
warning: suggestive but not fully nsfw, kissing, sensual touching, groping, kinda bratty attitude but mostly in a playful way, reader wears a dress and heels
this is very loosely inspired by that one tik tok trend about having a princess attitude and it made me think of him <3
205k likes, 30k comments, and 1.7mil views in less than three hours.
When Michael posted the tik tok featuring you as his one and only, you knew it would probably garner some attention, but not this much. Not only was it a hard launch for your relationship, it also showed bits of pieces of what it was like to be Michael Kaiser’s partner:
-
It was late into the night and all you could think about was satisfying your midnight cravings.
You got out of bed and slipped on some shorts and a random shirt that you found in Michael’s closet. The plan was to silently leave the apartment and go grab the food you craved before Michael could notice your absence. Said plan, however, fell through as soon as you grabbed the door knob of the bedroom.
“Mein Liebchen, where are you going?” Michael’s groggy voice interrupted you. The German sat up as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He pat the empty space next to him and urged you to go back to him.
You felt bad for waking him up, especially when he looked so sweet and precious in his tired state, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep, I’m gonna run out at get a snack. I’ll be back soon.”
You tried to leave again, but you heard the sheets shuffling on the bed. Michael was walking towards you with his eyes barely open.
“I’ll drive you. Wanna stay with you.” He tried reaching for you hand and finally found it after a few attempts due to the lack of light in the room. You tried to reassure him that you could manage by yourself and he needed to rest, but he insisted on going with you.
This led to you being in the passenger seat of Michael’s Porsche as he drove to the closest McDonald’s. His hand was caressing your bare thigh as you both hummed along to whatever song was playing on the radio.
Only Michael would take you to McDonald’s to satiate your spicy nugget craving in the middle of the night.
-
After another successful victory for Bastard Munchen, Michael wanted to take you out to a fancy dinner.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the after party? I don’t want to take away you away from your team and ruin the post-game excitement.” Michael simply huffed at the inquiry as he adjusted the rolled up sleeves of his button down dress shirt.
“Yes, I’m sure. They’re probably just going to the club. After all, they don’t have an angel of a partner waiting for them at home like I do.” Michael winked at you and laughed as you rolled your eyes at his last statement.
You walked over to the assortment of clothes you had as options for tonight, “okay fine, but don’t complain when you get bombarded with texts and calls from Ness and the others begging for you to join them.”
Michael completely ignored your statement and stood flush to your back, examining your options.
“Wear the red dress. The one with the slit.” His hands lay on your hips and slowly rubbed up and down your sides.
“Since you’re begging for me to wear it, I guess I have to.” You let out an exaggerate, but amused sigh as you felt Michael smile against the back of your neck. You slipped into the sleek dress with a pair of heels and applied makeup as quickly as possible. All the while, Michael wouldn’t let you go. Even as you were applying your favorite lip combo, he insisted you do so while sitting on his lap. His tattooed hand grazed tour thigh that was exposed by the slit.
“On second thought, let’s just stay here.” The sheer audacity to say that as you were getting ready made you side eye the blond through the mirror of your vanity.
Michael giggled as you simply ignored his suggestion, “I’m kidding, Meine Prinzessin, don’t worry. As much as I would like to keep you here for my eyes only, I want to show you off as much as I can.” He kissed the nape of your neck. You knew that his club manager’s request to keep your relationship a secret was starting to get to him. He had done well to keep it low key for the past year and seven months.
You turned around so you could see him and grasped at his pouty cheeks. It was a sight that you hoped only you would ever behold. Placing a gentle kiss on his pouted lips, you leaned your forehead against his. Michael closed his eyes and just basked in your presence and warmth. After a few minutes, he suddenly lifted you up bridal style and made his way to the front door. You giggled as he carried you all the way to the Porsche.
You’re the only person in the world that Michael would choose to celebrate with in such an intimate way.
-
Even as you scrolled through all the comments from the video, the buzzing didn’t cease. Thus, your beloved woke up from his midday nap, it’s for his much needed beauty sleep, he claims. Michael lifted his head from your stomach with his eyes closed, as he tends to do. His arms that surround your middle section squeezed just a tad tighter as he groaned and grumbled.
“What are you looking at? Put that down and nap with me.” You ignored his demand and simply turned your phone towards him. It took him a few seconds to adjust his eyes before he started to absorb what was in front of him. The smug grin on his face was expected due to the comments you saw that praised him as ‘god-tier’ boyfriend material. As fast as his smile appeared, it vanished.
Michael abruptly sat up with a mortified look on his face, “excuse me?! Did you see this? User ‘iluvkais3r’ said that you should leave me!” You actually didn’t see that comment, but it still made you let out a full belly laugh. Michael scoffed and pushed his face back into your stomach while grumbling incoherent words. Your hand found its place in his hair and you scratch his scalp. After a few minutes, you felt his breathing pattern even back out. Putting your phone down, you chose to join him in his state of slumber.
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Waiting For The Roommate
Max sat in the passenger seat of his roommate's truck, waiting for Buck, who needed to quickly come back to their dorm room. As he waited he took off his tank top, it was fuckin' hot inside. He rolled down the window to get some fresh inside the car.
As he stuck his head out the window to breathe in some fresh air he saw some nerd approach him. He was wearing a dark brown button-down shirt and had a stack of papers in his hand.
"Max, is that you?" The nerd asked, looking at him. A smile appeared on his face.
"uhhhhhhhh... dude, do i know ya?" He asked, convincing himself not to call the guy a loser or a nerd. Coach said he had to get better at dealing with strangers.
"Max, it's me - Michael. We went to high school together!" The other guy replied, clearly convinced that they knew each other. High school? Max's head was covered with a fog, he couldn't conjure up any specific memories from high school.
"you sure bro?"
"Damn, Max, we had like half our classes together!" The nerd was getting a bit frustrated for some reason. "We talked about going to the same uni, and so much more! And now you say you don't know me?"
Max tried to focus. High school, friends, classes, college. It felt like his brain was fighting against him, a thick fog covering everything. His thoughts began turning towards his next workout. Damn, he'll be doing arms and chest. Yea-- Holy shit, he knew that guy!
"oh fuck, mike, yeah, of course, how are you brah?" Max extended his hand for Mike to bump, but he just awkwardly looked at it. Max ignored it.
"Oh my god, for a moment I thought you weren't joking" A half-hearted laugh escaped Mike's mouth. Max just grinned. "I'm fine, settled into college life. Found a study group--" Mike continued talking but Max didn't register another word. He was this guy's good bro - apparently - but that didn't mean he would be able to tolerate that nerd bullshit. He was made for different things than studying - like workin' out with his best bro Buck.
"Anyway" Mike looked straight at Max, whose attention came back. "How was your first year. You look... like a different person!"
"what you mean bruh?" Max asked. What did that ner-- what did Mike mean? Different? He was always a badass jock.
"I mean, you're jacked! In high school you hated gym class, and here you are, buff and all."
"dude, am like, ya know, a real bro, dude. gotta be jacked as hell" He responded and flexed his right arm, his biceps moving and bulging under his skin.
"I mean, that's quite the change. Like, we kinda lost contact after the summer, and you didn't give any sign of life, and I thought... but you're here!" Mike was clearly excited and Max smiled. Wait, what was this dude's deal? He was textin' and talkin' with a nerd like that? Nah, this didn't make sense... where the fuck was Buck where he needed him!
"huhuhuhuhuhuh, yeah bruh" Max just chuckled like the dumb jock he was, he didn't know what to say. He shifted in his seat and scratched his armpit.
"Anyway" Mike went on "how was your first year in college? Were you able to get into that engineering program you've talked about?"
Engineeri-- what? "huhuhuh bro, are you high dude, i ain't here for some weird soundin' shit like that bro. am here to get drunk, work out and crush State, fuck yeah duhuhuhuh." Oh yeah, Max remembered the last game they played, State's lame ass defence couldn't stop the brute force of their offensive line. And the look on their faces when their WR1 tore a muscle in his leg... fuckin' priceless dude!
Mike was clearly not prepared for that answer, which Max found weird, cause he thought his jacked bod was proof enough that he wasn't a stupid nerd.
"Wait, so..." He was clearly confused "if you're not doing engineering then what is your major?"
"major?" Max had no idea what that guy meant... Major... what was a major... Coach talked to him about something like that... It was something along the lines of... "uhhhhh, general ed? dunno bro, never really been a guy to focus on shit."
"What, general education?" Mike seemed shocked. "But, like... I don't understand, Max, you... You said you wanted that, so that you could do a PhD... Why did you change your mind... Like, really, why did you change so much?!"
All that talk 'bout changes made Max's head spin a little bit. Like, what changes? He's been a fuckin' bro since he came here, got a room with Buck, cause before that-- his brain again began filling with fog, his thoughts slowing down to a halt, but not before he blurted out a response.
"duuuuude, like, bro, ive been a real bruh, like, forever dude, duuuuuuuh, like i got my bro Buck, and he got me to Coach, and uhhhhhhhhh, ya know, he worked on me and huhuhuh--" and his mind went blank, a dumb grin stuck on his face.
"What do you mean? A coach 'worked on' you? That sounds... concerning, you know that, right?" Mike adjusted his glasses and looked at Max, clearly concerned.
But Max... Max's brain had shut off. He was sitting in the passenger seat of his best bro Buck's truck, chuckling like a dumb idiot and drooling slightly.
"duhuhuhuhuhuh, duuuude... fuckin' hot today brah, gotta get that pump huhuhuhuh" He flexed his arm and touched his bulging biceps.
"Jesus, did they do something to you? Did you have some traumatic head injury?" Mike leaned on the car, looking inside the vehicle to see what was happening with Max. "God, did they brainwash you? You're a completely different person... and a dumb jock!"
It took a while for Max's fog-covered brain to register what the nerd said. And before he even began formulating a response Buck approached the car.
Buck was wearing a loose tank top that revealed his broad shoulders and giant guns, while also showing off his chest. His shorts, like second skin on his thick thighs, left nothing to imagination with his bulge clearly visible. He was a jock. An alpha. Max's best bro.
"duuude, ya won't believe the chick i saw while gettin' out of the dorm--" He started speaking as he opened the door on the driver's side, but then he noticed Mike standing by Max's window. "ey bruh, who's that loser?"
"huh?" Max turned to Buck, his grin disappearing and his his brow now furrowed. "i... dunno, bro..."
Buck and Mike looked at each other for a moment, the first one annoyed, the second slightly terrified.
"get away from the car" Buck barked as he sad down in front of the steering wheel.
"Wait, please, just a moment, you know what happened to Max? Pleas i just want to--"
"Go away, you fuckin' nerd" was the response Mike got. He took a step away from the car but didn't go away. Meanwhile Max realized what was happening. Some nerd was disturbing them and not listening to Buck's commands. And that wasn't the right thing to do. He turned his head to face the nerd.
"why you starin' at me, nerd" Max growled. His mind, completely covered by the fog, was now following Buck's lead. And Buck didn't like the nerd. So Max didn't like the nerd.
"Max, what... what happened?" Terror shifted into confusion as Mike tried to comprehend Max's sudden change in mood.
"oh, just fuck off, loser" Max responded and Buck took that as a sign. He turned the engine on and drove away, leaving Michael alone in the parking lot.
"uhhhhhh, do we know this guy?" Max asked a few minutes later. "that nerd form before?"
"nah, bro, of course not. we're real jocks, we're not gonna fraternize with fuckin' losers." Buck let our a low and dumb laugh. "by the way, tomorrow we're gonna get ya to Coach for a check up, just in case"
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You Catch Them Masturbating
includes: William Afton, Henry Emily, Phone Guy, Michael Afton, and Vanny/Vanessa
warnings: nsfw minors dni, gn reader (unspecified private parts), oral (male and female receiving), voyeurism (I think?)
William Afton:
• It was impossible to not be intimidated by him, especially when he was so attractive. So having him as a boss was more than enough to make you a flustered mess.
• You did your best to be respectful, always calling him “sir” and giving a smile before you had to look away from nerves, he seemed to appreciate all your work and obedience, and you never bothered him, until today.
•You just wanted to tell him that everyone left and you were about to go home too, but you got something more when you knocked on the door, a muffled groan sounding from the office before he answered you.
• “Come in~” he had practically purred as you opened the door, your jaw falling open at the sight before you. He was lounging on his couch, his cock out of his slacks as he looked at you with glazed eyes. “You look so surprised, well I’m happy to show you how much you excite me, bunny~”
• He shameless fisted his cock, keeping firm eye contact with every stroke as he licked his lips. “Of course you may leave if you wish, but that’s not what you want, is it, love? You want to ngh help don’t you?”
• “Yes sir.” You nearly whispered, closing the door behind you as he let out a growl at your words. “There you go- fuck again. Come here, show me how good you can be~”
Henry Emily:
• You didn’t see Henry as much as William, despite them being co-owners of the restaurant, but you still developed a bond with him. You took your niece and nephew by often, and one day you spotted Henry at a corner table looking absolutely miserable, and you couldn’t stop yourself from checking on him.
• Being a grieving and single father was tough on him, but the way you would bring him coffee and listen to him whenever you came by made him feel something he hadn’t felt in years. Of course he wouldn’t say anything though, but he couldn’t deny his feelings.
• Perhaps William was being his wingman when he told you that Henry wandered off during the big convention at the hotel, which eventually led you to the back meeting room, where Henry stood leaning against the table, pants and underwear around his knees as he stroked his cock, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.
• When he noticed you he sounded so ashamed and defeated as he closed his eyes, saying he was sorry he ruined the friendship you gave him. “You deserve so much better, you should go. I’m sorry.”
• When you didn’t leave, he looked at you with dark eyes, an intense and wanting look on his face as you stepped closer. “I want to help.” You said, making him throb as he groaned.
• “Let me take care of you after this,” he rasped as he watched intently as you got to your knees. “Shit you’re so good…I need you.”
Phone Guy:
• Somehow you survived your job as a night guard, and ended up thanking Phone Guy every morning after for his help. You were so grateful, it made him feel appreciated, so he asked to keep in touch.
• You would visit him at lunch some days, sharing greasy pizza and telling him about your new job whenever he wasn’t rambling about the pizzeria. Sadly you didn’t see him as often when he had to re-record instructions for the new guard.
• One day you decided to surprise him with some lunch, but once you saw his office was empty you felt the urge to snoop. You quickly spotted the phone he recorded all his messages on, and pressed the button, hoping to hear him being goofy again.
• Instead you heard an obscenely loud moan of your name. “Fuuuck fuck right there, o-oh you’re so good I can’t I- please do that again, (y/n) please-” You froze as the recording played on, his babbling and moans making your face hot.
• “H-Hello?” Of course he came back right then, looking just as flustered as he started sputtering out apologies. “That was an accident I didn’t know it was recording I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-”
• “Would you like some help..?” as soon as you said that, he relaxed, a brief while leaving his mouth. “Please…”
Michael Afton:
• Ever since Michael started his new job, he was on edge a lot more often, and as his best friend, you offered to stay at his house in case he needed anything.
• You made yourself at home in the guest room, reading late into the night til you heard noise from the living room. Part of you wondered if it was one of those robots he mentioned, but you knew it was probably his soap opera.
• “Psst~ can you turn it down, Mikey?” You whispered when you stuck your head into the living room, ready to quip about his show when you saw him laying on the couch, one hand rubbing the tip of his cock while the other tweaked a nipple.
• “Fuck! Um I’m sorry (y/n)!” He gasped and covered his crotch with a pillow, his face heating up with embarrassment. “Sorry…”
• You don’t know why but you suddenly asked. “Were you thinking about me?” There was an awkwardly long pause, but then he breathed out a “yes…” with a heavy sigh, seeming more embarrassed. “I can help.” You added, watching his eyes widen as he seemed to melt at your words.
• “C’mere, lemme feel you.” He cooed, patting his muscular thigh invitingly. “Catch me first.” You giggled, playfully scampering off when he jumped off the couch. “Oh it’s on now!”
Vanessa/Vanny:
• Despite her grumbling about it, the Pizzaplex hired you as another night guard to help Vanessa out, seeing as she was always tired and grumpy, and she wouldn’t say it, but she did like you.
• She frequently sent you to go clean bathrooms or take inventory, and you couldn’t tell why she didn’t want you in the security room or following her, so you decided to sneak up on her one evening and pop in the security office.
• You’d barely thrown the door open before she slammed you against the wall, a hand on your throat as she glared. “Wh- (y/n) the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be on clean up duty!” “I finished early and-” you didn’t get much else out before you noticed she was in her underwear, a wet patch on her panties.
• “Nobody is supposed to get in here…” she mumbled as she backed away, her cheeks flushed as she put her other hand behind her back. “May I help?” You asked hesitantly, watching a sly smirk form on her face.
• “Well since you finished early on your job, and interrupted me…” she hummed as she went to sit in her desk chair, tossing her panties to the side as she beckoned you forward. You sank to your knees in between her legs, staring at her already glistening pussy.
• “I think you deserve a reward~” she chuckled again before pushing your face closer, her thighs keeping you in place as she leaned back to watch you.
#fnaf#william afton x reader#michael afton x reader#vanny x reader#henry emily x reader#phone guy x reader#fnaf vanessa x reader#fnaf x reader
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leave the door open...
The dishwasher makes a weird noise as Harry presses the button, and she lets out a sigh, wiping her hands on her joggers much to Harry's dismay. There's a few seconds where they just stare at each other, and he lets out a chuckle, turning behind so he can put the kettle on.
It'd only been six months.
Two months during him on tour that they'd been in a relationship, and four months post tour–and four weeks of living together in his London flat–. She knew him for a few years, having met in New York through mutual friends, including her short-term-girlfriend at the time, so living with him, or being with him hasn't been too different.
She loved it.
They both did, especially now that he was off tour.
They argued over silly things, like who would cook that night, or the temperature of the room, or how she forgets to unload the dishwasher– 'the light tells you when it's done, babe', 'well I don't come in the kitchen and look at the bloody dishwasher so excuse me for forgetting a couple of times, Harry'.
They've never been one of those couples who felt very shy around each other. Perhaps it's to do with the fact that they're both confident in their relationship, and the fact that they're very laid back.
After a night out with her girlfriends couple of weeks ago, she presents a new 'conflict' in their relationship: Farting.
She'd found him sitting in bed after coming in, glasses on as he typed away on his laptop. After a few kisses, cuddles, and a few more kisses, she looks up at him with determination in her eyes.
"What?"
"Why do you never fart around me?"
"What?" Harry had laughed. In fact, she had to wait for him to calm down for more than ten minutes.
Harry had continued, face confused but still chuckling. "Where is this coming from?"
"Michael farted after the third-month mark. So did Nick. And Jen."
"Baby, are you upset that I... don't fart?"
"I'm sure you do!" She'd waved her arms around. "But never around me, Harry. Are you embarassed? Are you not comfortable with me? What is it?"
"You're– baby," he'd held her hands to his chest. "I love you. I guess I just... don't really fart?"
"What?"
"I mean, I might've done it couple of times when we're asleep or rather... when you're asleep. I didn't– why have you never farted around me then, hm?"
And that was it.
They'd laugh about it, and it was over.
It was silly.
Now, though, Harry really enjoyed being 'nasty' around her.
He's such a boy when he farts in bed, under the covers, and threatens to lift up the covers since 'you wanted me to fart so bad'.
Another thing he's been doing lately is, leaving the door ajar when he's in the toilet.
Now, she wouldn't mind if he was just weeing.
Or doing something else– anything else other than... number two.
It's not that she minds it, it's... she's rather confused.
So, with the kettle on, she gets their favourite mugs out, and Harry excuses himself to go to the toilet.
She knows why, because she'd figured his toilet habits out by now.
Every night around this time, he would be in the toilet for about ten minutes.
He goes, not without kissing her on the lips, and she can't help but laugh when she doesn't hear the door shut properly.
Five minutes pass, and she looks at their empty mugs, wanting to pour the water when he's back.
She's about to call for him when he beats her to it.
"Baby?"
"Yeah?" She looks in the direction of the downstairs toilet, as if she would see him.
"I need toilet paper."
"Fuck sake, Harry–" she puts her phone down on the counter, and walks upstairs, and grabs a few before making her way downstairs.
She stops in front of the door.
"Helloooooo," Harry drawls. "I need to wipe my ass."
"Why do you leave the door open like that?" She thinks out loud.
Harry lets out a groan. "Baby give me the toilet paper."
"Ahh, bet it stinks in there, H."
"Come on."
She goes inside, and hands him one.
Can't help but laugh at the sight of him just sitting there, hair messy and forehead extra-shiny.
"Okay," she pauses.
"Okay... I'll wipe my ass now if you just... y'know?" Harry looks up at her.
She realises how vulnerable he is at the moment.
"I could easily punch your dick right now," she murmurs, leaning against the door, and it closes shut with a click.
"You're so– why would you even say that– baby I fucking need to wipe my ass, just leave."
"No, I think this," she lets out a laugh when she notices him opening the toilet paper. "This is a level up in our relationship! I've never been inside the toilet while you poo."
"Farting and now pooing, you're so fucking weird. Okay, I'll–"
They just stare at each other for a moment before Harry lets out a sigh.
"I don't know how to do– please don't look."
"You've never wiped your ass?"
"Babe, what the fuck, of course I have," Harry says, through gritted teeth. "Just never in front of an audience!"
"Why do you leave the door ajar, then, you twat!"
"It makes me feel less lonely when I can properly hear you do things around the flat, for fuck's sake, just–" he moves his hand. "Just don't look."
She laughs, feeling a bit sorry for him. "Okay, I'm sorry, wait– I'll leave. I'm really sorry, I now realise this is... weird," she laughs, and turns around, hand on the door handle.
"No– don't leave."
"What?"
"Ah, fuck, we're so disgusting as a couple," he laughs.
She leans against the door, but her eyes are focused on the tiles.
She waits until she hears the flush.
"I can't believe you wanted to watch me wipe my ass," Harry finds her gaze in the mirror.
"It's not– wow, that sounds so creepy, please don't ever say that. I didn't want to watch you–" she shudders visibly. "Please don't say that, wow."
"Creepy?" He laughs, wiping his hands before he turns to her, and grabs her cheeks, smushing them. "Disgusting more like."
"Okay, please don't kiss me– you just done a huge poo and it's very stuffy in here–"
"Oh, fuck off, get out!"
#inspired by real events.................#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles fic#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles love on tour#love on tour#harry's house#harry styles fluff#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x fem!reader#harry imagine#harry smut#harry styles angst
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do you have a master list of all the audios? i need one place to find them all 😩
Motorsport Audio Masterlist Albon - Lawson
Leclerc-Ocon
Perez-Zhou
Male Listener Audios
Alex Albon
[M4F] [Script Offer] Early Morning With Your BF
[M4F] Be My Good Girl?
Fernando Alonso
noche de lluvia
buen-dia-amor
[M4F] Déjame ayudarte a dormir
Marcus Armstrong
A Soft Morning at the Beach [M4F]
[M4F] [script fill] Study break
Teaching you how to drive stick
Exhibitionist in front of the window
[M4F] Flatmates [painting]
[M4F][Script Fill] All Wrapped up
[M4F] It’s been a while
Peter Bonnington
[M4F] [Script Fill] Laundry Day
[F4M] Thanks for a Great Race, Wanna Fuck?
Valterri Bottas
[M4F] You Love It When I Put On A Suit, Don’t You?
Jenson Button
[M4F] Breakfast In Bed
Perfect The Way You Are.
I talk about going down on you
Sweetening up a Single Father [M4F]
Angela Cullen
[F4F] Taking Time For Yourself
Nyck De Vries
[M4A] [Ramblefap] I have to start with something...
[M4F] I'd say it was a pleasure but...
[M4F] Some Comfort
[M4F] Some heavy petting
My roommate, my vam[M4F]Feral Friday Ramblepire
[M4F]Feral Friday Ramble
Jack Doohan
shall we share my sleeping bag?
[M4F][Script Fill] Impulse Control
Felipe Drugovich
[M4F] Ramblefap #2
Pierre Gasly
[M4F] Boyfriend Waited Too Long For You And Can't Hold Himself Back
[M4F] Are you horny too?
[M4F] I do like your tits, speaking English can be hard fortunately I can do better things with my mouth
[M4F] Sleepy boyfriend wants you to come to bed to cuddle
[M4F] Helping you falling asleep
[M4F]The perfect gift
A Kiss, Or Two, To Wake Up
[M4F] Un réveil exceptionnel [FR]
[M4F] Unspeakable
[M4F] You and your crush have your first of many kisses
[M4F] Your beautiful breasts
[M4F][Improvisation]Sleepy boyfriend wants you to come to bed to cuddle
[M4F] Oh, you're studying? No, I'll just sit with you.
Lewis Hamilton
[M4F] Testing your strength against your boyfriend goes wrong... but very, very right
[M4F] Catching Daddy Playing
[M4F] A not-so-sneaky night of passion to cap off the week
[M4F] Fucking your brother's best friend.
[M4F][M4F(MMM)] You're my pretty little maid for game day. Won't you make my friends feel comfortable?
[M4F] You just can’t keep away, can you, Princess?
You're Safe With Me, My Darling
[M4F] Aw, is daddy's cock too big for you, princess? I don't care.
[M4F] Naughty Daddy fucks his little girl neighbour who's been teasing him for some time now.
[M4F] Distracting you from chores
[M4A][Improv] A needy "good morning" in the kitchen
[M4F] Needy Whore
[M4F][Script Fill] Honeymoon Swats
[M4A][OC] A sleeping gift for your overworked partner
[M4F][Script Fill] Shopping spree
[M4F][Script Fill] I saw what you did… Was that for me?
[M4F][Script Fill] Dominant friend needs an assistant
[M4F][Script Fill] Your Dom BF wants to make you cum while you game
Dennis Hauger
[M4F] I Will Hurt You, Princess
[M4F] Just Like That
[M4F] Warm Mushroom Soup
[M4F] Happy Ending Birthday
[M4F] Amateur Masseur
[M4F] A Farm by the Fjord
Christian Horner
[M4F] [Script Fill] The Sleepover DILF
Niko Hulkenberg
[M4F] Let’s see if you actually deserve more of my cum today
[M4A] You're Not Alone
[M4A] Unwind, and fall into relaxation with me
Callum Ilott
[M4F] You’re Sick, But It Doesn’t Bother Your Boyfriend
Michael Italiano
[M4F] Closing Time At the Gym
Liam Lawson
[m4f] Taking her virginity after a date
A Quickie with the fuck buddy
[M4F] Let Me Make You Feel Beautiful
Your doting boyfriend treats you to a night of relaxation and pleasure
[M4F] It’s been a while
#pierre gasly#lewis hamilton#smut#x reader#christine recommends audios#jenson button#nico hulkenberg#nyck de vries#fernando alonso#marcus armstrong#liam lawson#alex albon#jack doohan#peter bonnington#valterri bottas#dennis hauger#michael italiano#callum ilott
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The shirt headcannon was great, but what if the slashers had matching shirts with their S/O reader? Also if ya in one of the snowy storm states stay safe! ❄ 🧊 ⛸
Slashers React to Couple's T-Shirts
Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Feat. Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, & Stu
You can find the OG T-Shirt request here.
A/N: Such a cute request! And yes, those dealing with the crazy weather, please stay safe!
(Also, I couldn't find a better GIF option so I just went with the same one again)
Freddy Krueger
Yep, he wears it over his sweater
Can you expect anything less from Freddy though?
He really enjoys matching with you
He even let out some chuckles when you showed them to him for the first time
"I'm gonna need to make myself a closet if you keep up with this"
He definitely finds the shirts a tad bit cheesy, but he's not complaining
He happily wears the shirt with pride
He becomes a bit upset if you show up not wearing it though
Michael Myers
What even is this?
The first shirt was already bad enough, but this?
He doesn't even like cats
Just gives you a deadpan look
Will let you put yours on, but absolutely refuses to wear his
Barely even wants to touch it to be honest
You quite literally have to force it over his head
And even then, he just complains the whole time
Embrace the moment while you have it, because there's absolutely no way you're going to get that shirt on him again
Jason Voorhees
He smiles wide at these
One of the things he loves is the size difference between you two
It makes him feel like a protector
So you gifting him MATCHING shirts just makes him feel all giddy inside
The fact that they point out the size difference is a plus
He arguably likes this one more than the last (since he actually understands what it means)
He only wears the shirt when you wear yours though
If your washing it or don't have it on, don't expect Jason to be wearing his
Thomas Hewitt
Thomas absolutely fell in love with Beauty and the Beast when you first showed it to him
He didn't think he'd ever find someone like you, but here you were, and that made him relate to the Beast quite a bit
So when you showed him these, he was ecstatic
Immediately puts it on and refuses to take it off for a couple days
Even in the blistering heat of Texas, he wears it
Will always give you a hug when he sees you wearing yours
By the end of the week however, his shirt is noticeably much dirtier than yours
They barely match anymore, but the meaning is still there
Bubba Sawyer
Bubba is all giddy when he sees these
He just thinks the dinosaurs are absolutely adorable
And he honestly gets the joke pretty quickly!
Will insist you both put them on at the exact same time, doing a little spin for each other
He's clapping his hands and bouncing up and down
Will become pretty protective of the garment though
If anyone besides you gets a little too close to him, he puts his arms out as if saying "don't touch the shirt"
He truly finds the shirts a symbol of your relationship, so if any stain or tear occurs, he will literally have a meltdown
Brahms Heelshire
He doesn't find them as funny as you do
But he likes the idea of you matching together, so he allows it
Will try to put your shirt on instead in hopes you don't notice
You do
He thinks you look cute, but he won't admit it
He's still mad that you think you're the boss
I mean, who makes the literal rules around here??
But the moment you baby him and tell him just how good the shirt looks on him, he gives in and accepts his fate
He does wear the cardigan over it, however
Norman Bates
You know Norman isn't one for loud garments
So you thought something simplistic and meaningful would be the best bet
When he first sees the shirts, he smiles and says they look extra comfy for you two
But when he sees your anniversary on the sleeves, he melts
Thinks it's super romantic and gives you a sweet kiss as a thank you
He wears the shirt all the time
Under his button ups, going to bed, lounging around
And you can tell he becomes extra happy when you have yours on too
It's just like having a cute reminder of your love for each other
And Norman is all about that
Billy Loomis
Billy had been talking about getting a new sweatshirt for forever now
So when you came across these, you knew you had to get them
Billy isn't usually one for cheesy things, but he can't stop the small smile that forms on his face
"You're a lifesaver, babe"
Will try it on and practically melt into it
Doesn't specifically ask, but he'll give you a look basically telling you to put yours on too
When he sees you both matching, he can't even lie that he likes it
Will snuggle up with you and thank you
Stu Macher
Stu immediately lets out a big laugh when he sees them
His amusement is quickly deflated when he fully reads the shirts
"Hey!"
You know he's just joking though, since he still has that huge grin on his face
"You're clearly the stupid one, right?"
You just give him a joking slap to the arm
Will make you put yours on with him and pulls out his camera
Takes a million pictures with you and the shirts, finding them hilarious
He definitely insists on wearing them in public since it makes it even more obvious that you're his
He just doesn't want to wear them around Billy
He'll make fun of him
#slashers x reader#slasher preference#slashers headcanon#slashers preference#slashers#michael myers headcanons#michael myers x reader#michael myers#halloween#halloween movie#jason voorhees headcanons#jason voorhees x reader#jason voorhees#friday the 13th#friday the thirteenth#thomas hewitt#thomas hewitt x reader#texas chainsaw massacre#the texas chainsaw massacre#brahms heelshire x reader#brahms heelshire#brahms heelshire headcanon#the boy 2016#billy loomis x reader#billy loomis headcanon#billy loomis#stu macher x reader#stu macher#stu macher headcanons#scream movie
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crowley and aziraphale being sexy is not mutually exclusive from them being asexual. y’all do realize that, right?
i’ve seen people say “i just want them to be ace icons, they’re an old gay couple they’re not meant to be sexy!!” and while that’s well intentioned and i can see where you’re coming from, i have to disagree.
don’t get me wrong, i don’t necessarily want a sex scene in canon. i did and still do read both of them as ace. the wanting them to be ace is not the issue.
i take issue with the reasoning some people are providing. let me put this bluntly: old people can and do have sex. old straight couples have sex, old queer couples have sex. being old is not synonymous with someone not being sexually active. and it says a lot about how you all view aging and old people when you act like old people can’t get it on.
secondly, aziraphale and crowley can be sexy and also never have sex. ANYBODY can be sexy and never actually have sex. because sexy is vibe, it’s a state of mind, it’s about your physicality and the way you carry yourself. you can think someone is sexy and never want to fuck them, you can think you yourself are sexy and not go any further than that.
so yeah, crowley can look hot and sexy in his turtlenecks and waistcoats. and aziraphale can look sexy in his waistcoats and button downs. you can look at david tennant’s jawline and be enamored and you can look at michael sheen’s nose and think it’s beautiful. and they never have to actually have sex with each other for any of that to be true. sexiness does not necessitate sex.
not to mention, every time i see the “they’re an old gay couple they don’t need to be sexy!!” argument it feels very much like sanitizing queer relationships and love for the sake of cishet comfortability. too often queer people are not allowed to be sexual, or for fucks sake, not just sexual but physical with their significant others. because physical manifestations and displays of queer love make the cishet world uncomfortable. and not allowing that kind of physical love to exist in media only serves to further perpetuate the issue.
queer love and queer people don’t have to be palatable to a cishet audience. queer love should get to exist authentically and queer people should get to exist and present in however way they see fit.
and in the context of good omens i think that means letting aziraphale and crowley be sexy even if they never have sex. that means letting them be physical in their love. because queer people deserve that, especially old queer people
#i don’t even know if this makes sense but here ya go#can’t believe i (an asexual) unironically wrote ‘sexy is a state of mind’ in an otherwise serious tumblr post#anyways let aziraphale and crowley be sexy even if they never have sex#asexual aziraphale#asexual crowley#asexual aziracrow#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#ineffable wives#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#good omens 2#good omens meta
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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 8.
Summary: The fallout of arguing with Oliver, not fighting with Farleigh, Felix hooks up with your not-girlfriend, and so you provide comfort to his sort-of-ex.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: someone makes a move on the reader while they're very very drunk and the reader is far more sober, but it doesn't go past kissing, if that's something you're possibly concerned about.
A/N: 5424 words. welcome back. this one goes many different places in the span of one night. the farleigh of it all. the annabel of it all. im worried this one might feel OOC so id really like to hear if there's anywhere i could improve on my characterisation, what worked, what didn't?? as always unedited, and as we're nearing the end of the term (in the fic) we only have a few chapters left at oxford before we get to go to saltburn!! LOVE YOU ENJOY!!
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
"Didn't have to do that," Felix sighed from his desk, head bent low over his textbook. It's the first thing he'd said since Oliver left. You, still on his bed, picking through a textbook for a class you both share, found half-shoved under his bed, look up.
"Do what?"
"That thing with Michael What's-His-Name's file," it almost sounds like guilt in his voice, but he still isn't listening to you, "you could get in real trouble for having that."
In swift movements he stands, and you catch the sight of his scowl despite how he doesn't turn it upon you. Once again he's sitting on the floor, back to the foot of the bed, lighting up another cigarette, legs crossed in front of him.
"I'll put it back tomorrow." You're not used to Felix disapproving of you, it's a kind of discomfort you want to shake as quickly as you're able to. After a moment you add, "I know it's not really Ollie's fault, I shouldn't have -"
"I don't want to talk about Ollie right now." He's focused on balancing his ash tray on his knee, watching it with such intensity it's as if he's trying to define life's secrets from it.
"Should I go?" Murmured, almost like you're afraid of anyone hearing it, even Felix. It hangs, golden in the hazy heat of the afternoon.
"'m not the boss of you," Felix mumbles softly, head low, again his words coloured almost with guilt. You know he will never shake the quiet shame he sometimes is hit with when he remembers the way people often perceive the relationship you two share; too close, too loyal, too imbalanced.
But you've never cared; you will never treat him differently, never want for anything but his happiness, never beat the canine allegations. One day you hope you'll convince him that's okay.
So instead of leaving, you close the textbook and stretch yourself out across his bed, laying the on your belly with your head resting at the foot, by his. Your hand rests on his head, running your fingers through his hair.
Felix breathes out a lung full of smoke. He doesn't look at you. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes. The moment is a quiet one, tension thick and choking and full of things neither of you can talk about.
It's the strangest afternoon you share in a long while, one full of silence and the slow, mind numbing sound of pages being turned and the scratch of pen against paper.
"I'm gonna get ready to go out tonight," you say softly, finally breaking the silence when the courtyard outside is every shade of gold and orange in the sunset. Felix just hums in acknowledgement from his desk, "Fi?"
"Yeah," he huffs, dismissively, still looking at his notes. You've got the file in one hand, doing up the buttons of the shirt you'd forgone in the afternoon heat of his dorm room, but had to wear back to your own.
"You want me to text Oli?" You watch him grow tense at the name alone.
"Yeah, maybe, I don't know," he mumbles, almost forcibly nonchalant, despite the hard line of his shoulders that hadn't been there moments ago. Then, as if to clear the moment, he sits up straighter, turning to you in his desk chair with a look of determination in his eyes, "India still into me do you think?"
"I know India's still into you," you can't help but snort, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"Would you be totally cut up if I -" he doesn't even need to finish before you're rolling your eyes.
"She'd be thrilled," but your smile softens a little, even as you shake your head with exasperation, "she's all yours, Fi."
Perhaps it's the fondness with which you acquiesces to his arguably selfish request that makes him take in the full exchange that had just passed. Felix takes a moment, tension and expression dropping as he turns pensive for a moment, unable to look you in the eyes. After a beat, you turn to the door, fully intending on letting the moment pass, but you hear Felix stand.
He doesn't say anything as he approaches you, still wearing that rather grim, thoughtful expression, but he wraps you up in a hug. He holds you as close as he's able, and after a beat of surprise, you gently drop the file to wrap your arms around him in return.
I love you. I'm sorry. All the tension from the afternoon drains away in this hug, in him pressed against you, leaning into you, breathing deep and even and steady. Pressing your face against his shoulder, you give him a brief kiss against his warm, golden skin, and hope he can feel your smile too.
The hug breaks, but still he holds your face for a long moment. He's smiling again. I love you. Thank you. He kisses your cheek quickly.
"I'll catch you at the King's Arms, yeah?"
"'course, Fi," you assure him with a warm smile of your own.
Back in your own dorm, that single moment of warmth unfortunately can't overwrite the entire afternoon of sickly tension. Looking at Oliver's name in your contacts, you frown. You should text him, invite him, Felix told him he would -
"Yeah, maybe, I don't know."
You don't text Oliver.
Annabel also isn't at the King's Arms that night. Of course you know why, the answer sits across from you with his arm around your not-girlfriend, but part of you still kind of feels bad for if the sweet redhead ever finds out.
"What are you sulking about?" Farleigh's smug voice in your ear, Farleigh's arm around your shoulder, Farleigh's cigarettes you keep stealing, Farleigh who you've tucked yourself up against for the night.
"'m not," you try insisting, frowning at the lighter that's clearly out of fluid and refusing to relight your cigarette. He gives your shoulder a squeeze.
"You sure, Peter Pan? Where's your shadow?"
"You don't give a shit about Oliver," you snap a little too quickly, both frustrated by the situation you're trying to ignore, and the useless lighter, but Farleigh reads right through it and practically cackles. Still, he wraps his other arm around you and squeezes you against his side with glee, even as you try to protest.
"Ooh~" Farleigh teases, poking your side with a wide, fond smile, "trouble in pauper's paradise?"
"That's fucking mean," you rib him none too gently, but he actually snorts with laughter. The lighter still won't bloody well start.
"I feel like you're fucking edging me with that lighter, fuck," Benji, from Farleigh's other side, smacks your lighter out of your hands and holds out his perfectly working one.
"Thank you, Benny, that was pissing me off," Farleigh says with a satisfied smile, his laughter having died down. You, finally take a draught on your cigarette, grateful for the warmth, and the nicotine as it hits.
"Could kiss you, Benj," you finally let yourself smile, "someone remind me to get a new lighter," you add, leaning across Farleigh without hesitation to plant a kiss squarely on Benji's lips after he'd wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, teasingly at you at your comment.
"We'd fascinate psychologists," Farleigh chuckled, but his voice is warm and fond, and Benji turns back to his conversation with Alicia and Jake on his other side once the moment had passed.
"Probably," comes out distracted, however as your teasing mood drops and you look to your phone. Should I have called Oliver? But when you look up, across the table, you see warmth and fondness in the way Felix looks at India, enraptured by whatever story she's telling. With one arm around her shoulders, he lets her distractedly play with his other hand, leaning into her, all attention on her. Making her feel like the centre of the universe, the way only Felix knows how to do. India glows in a way you've never seen before, lighting up under his direct affection, beautiful and elated, maybe even a little bit flustered.
There's not even a hint of jealousy at the sight of them. All you know is how much you love your friends, and how happy and beautiful they look together in this moment. There is contentment, satisfaction, like a job well done... Farleigh might have a point about the psychologists.
Speaking of - Farleigh grabs your chin and tilts your face to look at him. Immediately you smack his hand away.
"Stop that! What is that? What are you doing?" You squawk at him immediately. Again, he grabs your chin, frowning, intent upon gazing intensely into your eyes. This time you let him.
"I'm figuring out what this is," he mutters like he's deep in thought. You let your gaze roam for a moment, hoping he gets whatever this is out of his system. You wiggle your chin in his grip, and it's enough to prompt more of an explanation, "if you're not sulking, then I don't know this -" rolling your eyes, you smack his hand away.
"Fuck man, I'm not sulking," you insist, remembering your cigarette and taking another puff, glad it hadn't gone out.
"You've been weird lately; angry - ranting," Farleigh made sure to stick to your cover story despite having seen through it the minute you'd tried out the other week, "you and Felix have had some weird vibes," he takes the cigarette from you, and you settle yourself against him further.
"Fi and I always have weird vibes," you pointed out with a little smirk, keeping your voice as low as he was, glad he didn't feel the need to publicise this discussion too broadly. Farleigh snorted, but shook his head.
"You, sure," Farleigh conceded, handing back the cigarette, "but," he leans in, leans into your with a knowing, dangerously sharp smile, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, "Felix has been weird about you," his voice slides along the word weird as his hand slides up your thigh, as if to prove a point, before sitting back. Giving you a moment to recover, Farleigh sits back up like nothing happened, letting go of your thigh and taking a drink. He gives you a squeeze, arm still around your shoulders, "or hadn't you noticed?" Back at regular conversation levels like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Across the circle of your friend group, Felix's gaze momentarily flicks to you as India's in the middle of some kind of enthusiastically rambling. Gaze briefly passing to Farleigh, he then looks back and raises an amused eyebrow in silent question. The smile you give him is instinctive and warm, a silent answer. He mirrors the smile for the briefest moment before his attention returns to India.
Of course you'd noticed the change.
"Of course I've noticed." Your gaze dips; you become fascinated with your drink for the moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever comment you knew Farleigh had coming.
"Surprised he hadn't put you on a leash."
You elbow him hard in the ribs. He retaliates by flicking you repeatedly in the forehead. Its a blurry mess of frustration and elbows after that, pulling hair and wet fingers in ears and trying to sink nails into each other's soft sides, all squabbling and cursing and insults not made for polite society.
"- you put your fingers near my mouth I'll bite them off!" You holler even when he's got his arm around your neck in a kind of choke hold, which is around the time the two of you are pulled away from each other.
The rest of the table is staring at you both, while you and Farleigh straighten yourselves up, a little flustered at the many incredulous stares you were getting.
"The fuck was that about?" Felix, of course, is the one to voice the question the others all had. You look to Farleigh, his expression mirroring yours; no malice, no frustration, like nothing had happened.
"Bit of horseplay," you shrugged easily, meeting Felix's eyes, tone bright and chipper. He looked unconvinced.
"Just two dudes being guys," Farleigh's tone was light and breezy as he settled back into the booth, and you alongside him, letting him once more sling an arm around your shoulders.
"Guys bein' pals," you agreed with a nod. Farleigh pats your head for emphasis. The group thankfully decides that they've had enough of the weird moment to go back to their own conversations. Felix was the last to focus back on the conversation he'd been having with India and Alicia, narrowing his eyes as he looked between you and Farleigh.
Before turning his attention entirely away, his gaze fixes on you. There, in the very slight tilt of his head, the look in his eyes, the way his jaw tightens, you see his concern for you. You lean your head back on Farleigh's shoulder and let yourself relax, let yourself give him a genuine, reassuring smile. It's enough.
Farleigh clears his throat.
"It was either that or tell him you said that," you explained under your breath, to which Farleigh nodded in understanding, hand running up and down your shoulder idly as he reached across the table for the communal fries, bringing the basket closer to you both.
"And you don't want to tell him because you know I'm right," Farleigh is back to smug, but at least this time you can join him in his amusement.
"No, but I'm humouring you because I'd like to talk about how good I'd look in a collar," picking up a chip, you eat it with a grin as Farleigh rolls his eyes. After a moment, however, he comes back with this contemplative look, still amused, but eyes narrowed and searching like they had been earlier. You eat another chip and tell him to put his eyeballs back in his head, "seriously, quit looking at me like that, Farleigh -"
"He has been weird-weird," Farleigh says like he's agreeing, though you tell him you have no idea what the fuck he means. Taking a deep breath like he was ramping up to something, Farleigh looks across the group to Felix, before looking back at you with a kind of put-upon smile, "I say this only as someone who's know you for like, more of my life than I'd like to admit -"
"I love you too, go on."
"- so I kind of think that it might not look that different to anyone else, like they don't know it's not your usual brand of weirdness," he wets his lips, giving you a look like he's not even sure if he's meant to be saying this, like he might be letting you in on a secret you're not supposed to know, "he's been really hot and cold with you."
Of course you'd noticed.
"I slept with Oliver."
Beside you, Farleigh appears to go through all five stages of grief at once.
"You make it very hard to be friends with you sometimes," he says, shaking his head. You, however, are focusing on how many chips you can eat in a rush rather than think too much about the topic at hand.
"That mean," you tell him flatly, mouth full of potatoes, "you're being mean again."
"You chose to sleep with Oliver, that is a choice you made; I'm gonna be mean about it, you've earned it, you know you have -"
"Remember," you gave him a shit-eating grin, "how the next time we went drinking after that costume party, you spent a full half hour in the beer garden ranting about how stupid you thought Ollie's costume was," you ate another chip while Farleigh narrowed his eyes at you with barely concealed contempt, but you powered on, "and it turned out that you thought the costume didn't do him justice, which then -" your grin grew wider, "became you ranting about how his eyes are too blue, and why does he dress like that when we can all see his arms, imagine if he wore a shirt that fit!" You gleefully recounted, even as Farleigh's mouth flattened into a thin line, like he's bitten on a lemon, but he couldn't look you in the eyes.
"Hey, that's not what I -"
"And then -!" You spoke over him, "you forgot where you were and tried to take an angry nap in the bushes."
"I don't -" a flustered Farleigh squirms for a moment in his seat, unable to look at you, "remember that, and," he turned a faux serious look upon you, "if you tell anyone I said that, I'll tell them you're lying."
"I'm just saying," you shrugged, "don't act like you don't know part of the reason why I slept with him."
"Fine," Farleigh rolled his eyes, allowing his flustered frustration to ease. After a moment of contemplation, of watching Felix, he hums quietly, thoughtfully, "that can't be it, right?"
"What can't be it?"
"If Felix was going to start being jealous it wouldn't be over Oliver."
"See, that's what I thought."
"So he is jealous?"
"I don't know," you say quietly, still not quite sure how to feel about it; Felix had taken the news fine when you'd told him, he hadn't seemed any different, but of course there'd been a change. Why now?
"That's really stupid of him," Farleigh finally says, dismissively.
"It is, isn't it?" As you try and laugh, your heart's not in it. You look at your phone again, another wave of that strange discomfort that you'd been feeling lately washing over you again. You can't stay.
Everyone's surprised by your early departure as you say your goodbyes. You cite the need to study hard tomorrow, giving hugs and kisses as you start the short journey back to your dorm. Felix murmurs that he loves you and a cheeky thanks in your ear and you know he's talking about India. You kiss his cheek, and then you head off.
Nothing had seemed off when you'd told Felix.
"You look like you're about to burst into song; what happened to you?"
"Something happened!"
"Am I meant to guess?"
"No, no- I mean, like how nothing happened between me and Ollie a few months ago; something happened!"
"Something happened between you and Ollie?"
"The something that didn't happen last time -"
"I don't remember last time, Y/N, you're being so cryptic, I love that you're excited but -"
"Yes, Ollie and I slept together. Finally!"
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"No, good 'oh', promise!"
"Didn't sound like a good 'oh', Fi; is everything alright?"
"Yeah, of course, sorry Y/N, I promise, I'm just... I don't remember you being this excited about a hook up... and I don't think I was excepting it to be Ollie, you know? Was he really that good?"
"Let me put it this way, it was the kind of good that none of our other friends would believe if I told them."
"Fancy that, Ollie knows what he's doing; good for you."
"Great for me."
It wasn't particularly vulgar or explicit, you'd had far more in depth conversations about your various hook ups, Felix had seemed as happy for you as he always did with these kinds of stories. But he'd started looking at Oliver different, you'd noticed it. That too is when he became the clingiest. Farleigh was right; on nights out with Oliver around, Felix threw out any pretence of subtlety or person space. Felix acted like your boyfriend.
But then, any other night, any other group situation, it was like any other day. Sometimes he'd barely even glance at you. Hot and cold.
You're so in your head on the walk home that you barely register someone sitting at your door until you all but trip over them.
Annabel.
She'd been crying.
"Fuck you." Is how she greets you.
"What are you doing here?" A twinge of pity, a twinge of guilt, to see her obviously distraught at your doorstep. She gets unsteadily to her feet, swearing at you again. Reaching out to steady her, she surprises you by lunging at you, grabbing you.
"You were there, weren't you? With the rest of them," Annabel's gripping your collar, makeup smeared with tears and eyes red-rimmed, "with him," lips still inches from yours, her gaze unfocused but searching, "I can fucking smell it on you- you- you and rich boy-" but she stops for a moment, expression falling to confusion, "Farleigh?"
"Annabel -" you ease her hands off of your collar, partly confused, but mostly pitying.
"Why do you smell like Farleigh?" She sounds almost like a lost child, refusing to let go of your hand as you pulled out your keys. God she looks so helpless, tears still welling in her eyes, vodka bottle mostly empty by her feet.
"Why are you so good at telling what Farleigh smells like?" You countered with, swinging the door open. At this, some of the righteous indignation fires up in her again, flouncing into your room.
"You all went to the same boarding school, you've all got these same habits, and same but different scents you cling to," she's scowling at your dresser as you picked up the vodka bottle and brought it into your room, shutting your door. You watch her for a long moment, see how she analyses everything you have there, perfumes, colognes, makeup, skin care, little bits of paper rubbish - she picks up a bottle and flicks off the lid, not caring where it landed amongst the rest of the things there. When she sprays it, she seems to almost relax amongst it's mist. Of course. It's Felix's favourite, Felix's scent as she'd so aptly described it, for when he'd spend the night.
"Of course you have his too," she says faintly, almost derisively.
Allowing your attention to finally drift from her, you start getting ready for bed, heading to your closet to hang up your jacket.
"You all need to mark your territory," she spits, out of your peripheries, you see her move away from your dresser and pick up her vodka again, "need everyone to know who you own, who we all belong to -"
"Anna, that's not -" you sighed, unsure of where any of this was going, but not liking it either way. As you search your drawers for pyjamas, you felt her gentle hands on your hips. Jumping at the sudden touch, when you spin she braces herself against the drawers with hands either side of you, while your hands become trapped, the last bit of resistance between her chest and yours.
"I smelled like you both for weeks," she murmurs, gaze roaming your body, almost hungry, landing back on your lips, "you remember that? I should- I should- should have been fucking sickened," she admits, voice a low whisper, the hunger turning needy, turning into almost a whimper, "the things I want you both to do to me make me sick to my stomach," her lips inch closer to yours, shared breath, heat in the air, "of course I know what the fuck you all choose to smell like, I can't get it out of my fucking head," you should lean away but there's something intoxicating about her rage, her desperation, her desire, "Our Annabel, that's what he'd called me, what you'd -" and she kisses you, vodka still wicked and bitter on her tongue, all but panting into your mouth as her hands find your hips again.
But it can't continue, you can't let this go on. As you lean back to free your arms, to hold her back, she takes advantage of the opportunity to slide her hands beneath your shirt, cold and nimble against your belly -
"Could've been my Felix -" she mumbles, as if in a trance, eyes hazy and full of both tears, like she was looking into a memory. The minute her fingers find your fly you grab her hands firmly. It takes you a moment to regain your composure, to remind yourself that she wasn't in her right state of mind, that she probably didn't even know what she was doing or saying -
My Felix flares bright and hot and possessive in your mind. My Felix.
"Ow," Annabel's noise of pain brings you back to reality, but thankfully it seems the shock to her system brought her back too. Looking down at your vice-like grip on her wrists, she looks back at you as you let her go, embarrassment in her eyes as she perhaps realises some of what she'd been doing.
"I'm not sleeping with you tonight, Anna," still, your voice is gentle. She huffs an embarrassed little laugh, starting to sniffle again. Again, you remind yourself that this poor girl just got her heart broken by your best friend, and decided to deal with that by drinking an entire bottle of vodka. You'd committed to showing her some compassion tonight.
"I know." The tension drops, and she just leans her head forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder. You can't help but hug her, feeling the heavy way she sighs as you're giving her a reassuring pat on the back. The two of you stay like that for a very long few minutes until you hear her start crying again.
"Do you wanna borrow some pyjamas?" You ask softly, and feel her nod.
The rest of the night is quiet after that, taking care of this distraught young woman who got her heart broken by your best friend. It reminds you of nights you'd spend with Venetia back at Saltburn.
Annabel sits on your bathroom counter patiently, ankles crossed, watching the way you focus as you wipe off her makeup with meticulous care. When you take off her necklace, you coil it delicately on top of the nice clothes she'd been wearing, now sitting on top of her shoes by your door. At first she tries to wave you off when you offer to brush out her hair -
"There's -" she hiccups; the full bottle of vodka has finally hit her, but still she tries to shake her head, "too much hairspray, it'll be a hassle -"
"I'll be gentle," you told her softly, assurance in your eyes and a warm smile on your lips, "if you'll let me." Annabel melts under that gaze, sitting in borrowed pyjamas, face clean, cross-legged on your bed in the lamp light. You treat her with the gentlest care, brushing out her hair while you can still hear her occasional sniffles; she sits as primly as she's able, only apologising once at the start for it's length. You assured her it's fine.
"You scare me sometimes," Annabel mutters into the quiet, voice watery. For a moment, you pause.
"Me?"
"Both- both of you. You and Felix," she sniffles again, "and Farleigh too now, I guess," you can tell she swallows thickly, voice catching in her throat. When she tries to dip her head, she can feel the way you're still holding gently, still working, and she apologises faintly. Carefully, quietly, giving her space to organise her tipsy, upset thoughts, you continue to brush out her hair.
"Never met anyone like you, you know? Didn't think people like you guys existed. You're always everything; the most without even trying," she takes a deep breath, but it's undercut by a faint sob that's almost a chuckle, "I kind of think you don't even know what I mean- you especially, you know?" You... don't.
You brush, only giving a faint apology, but all she does is fidget, the words spilling unrehearsed from her, things she's clearly been bottling for far too long -
"Felix is everything everyone wants, and you're everything everyone wants him to be," she says it so forlornly, "the sun and it's fucking warmth," then, almost disgusted as she spits it under her breath, "I think about how he's never going to fuck me the way he looks at you while he's shitfaced, how sick is that?"
With a few more strokes her hair is brushed out, and without even thinking you start to braid it. Annabel's dissolved into tears again, her face in her hands, but you're just careful not to tug on her hair too hard as her whole body shakes with them.
"He never gave a proper shit about me, did he?" Annabel sobs as you're tying off the braid. The minute it's done, she turns and throws herself into your arms, sobbing against your chest, "I'm just another fucking girl to him!"
"He still loves you as a friend, I'm sure; you know how Fi is-" you pet her shoulder carefully as she clutches your shirt for dear life.
"I don't wanna be his fucking friend! I gave him my fucking heart and now he's probably got his dick in that slag India, who said she was my friend!" Spitting her words with fury, with venom, she looks up, but only sees a look of pitying apology in your eyes; she's probably right. Lip curling, she throws herself back on your bed, hands covering her face once more, "he doesn't fucking care," she groaned, fury turning poisonous with resignation, "I know he doesn't care; if I thought he truly cared I would have fucked Oliver -"
"What?"
"- Felix is so fucking fickle, god, seems like he doesn't even care about Oliver anymore, I should have- should have -" she continues on, but breaks down crying again. Getting off the bed, you leave for the common room for half a moment, filling it with water.
"Drink this," you instruct, sitting next to Annabel on the edge of the bed. She scowls, but follows your orders easily, even if she can't properly look you in the eye. The water seemed to have at least helped, as her crying quiets down as you refill the glass in your bathroom sink.
"I feel like shit," she mumbles, watching you come back into the room and place the cup on her bedside.
"Well you look pretty," you tell her teasingly, trying to lighten the mood even a little as you gently pinched her cheek. She does not appear to find the humour in the moment. Still, you turn off your lamp and climb over her into the bed, "please don't throw up in my bed or on my floor."
"I know where your bathroom is."
The two of you kick off the neat duvet but pull the thin, luxurious sheet over you both.
"Thank you..." it sounds begrudging as she says it. You tell her it's no stress, sitting up for a moment in order to open your window a crack, let a breeze in overnight, but still hear her when she says, "you're a bad friend."
Still sitting, you take a deep breath, sighing as a silhouette in the moonlight.
Annabel is more astute than you possibly gave her credit for in this state; amongst all her felt injustices, she'd never once asked about how you felt about Felix fucking India, your well established not-girlfriend. Because somehow she knew, perhaps even that you gave your blessing. You'd never been a cruel person as long as you could help it, but you'd made peace with your priorities too long ago to start apologising for them now. So yes, you'd taken Annabel in for the night, but she knew in her heart that you were partially at fault for her despair in the first place. You both knew.
Enabling Felix was never really about making anyone else happy.
"I know."
Something about your admission seems to be enough for Annabel, however. When you lay back down beside her, she curls up against you, tucks herself all along your side, arm around you, head on your chest.
The next morning, Annabel moves silently around your dorm. When you wake up, all that's even left of her presence is the empty cup of water on your bedside. No kind of note, no text, she'd made sure she didn't even wake you before leaving.
Fucking Christ, what a bloody week did yesterday feel like, is all you can think as the mid-morning sun slashes through your barely parted curtains and paints your chest with light.
You consider sleeping in, consider that you'd definitely earned it after yesterday, but then your phone starts ringing. It's Felix. He sounds grim.
"Hey, can you get over here? We need you."
#felix catton x reader x oliver quick#saltburn x reader#saltburn imagine#felix catton x reader#felix catton imagine#oliver quick x reader#oliver quick imagine#felix catton x y/n#oliver quick x you#oliver quick x y/n#felix catton x you#felix catton x you x oliver quick#head heart hand fic#manic writer
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Instead of posting pointless callouts, use your brains.
tldr: some of yall need to learn what a fucking block button is
Genuinely what is so hard about pressing the block button? Like omg I promise no one cares about your fuckass callout posts or rants. Like some of these people are embarrassing as hell. If you get triggered by shit on the internet, it’s YOUR decision on wether or not you want to interact or block and move on with your life. Like brother, i’m not going to throw a fit and freak out over some post that just so happened to contain weird shit on it. You know what I do? I MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE. Because I got better shit to worry about than some random ass fic on tumblr.
You like ddlg? Cool. Doesn’t hurt me or anyone, I don’t care. You like incest? Good for you! You like noncon? Okay! Like do y’all see how easy it is to just smile and nod? Trust, policing what people post and enjoy, is not going to change shit. It’s just annoying as fuck. People pick and choose, because some of the shit you all consume wouldn’t be considered normal either, going by what you all say.
According to all of your logic, blood kinks, knife kinks, gun kinks, piss kinks, and etc. should not be normalized either. Murder shouldn’t be written about, especially gore. Which is fucking moronic, considering how RE is built on violence and gore. Please, learn how to separate fiction from reality.
Many people are fans of iconic slasher films and horror movies. Michael Myers is a rapist and a murderer. But guess what? No one CARES! Because he’s not REAL. I could go on with so much more examples, but you should get the point by now. Hopefully. Dark content is everywhere, why is it now that it’s weird? Makes no fucking sense.
I get that some of you don’t want your precious white boy’s image to be tainted or defamed or whatever, but trust, Leon Kennedy is not reading these fics nor would he care. ‘He’s not a rapist or into incest!’, well he also wouldn’t call you ‘sweetheart’ or whatever cheesy bs fluff fics contain nowadays. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? It’s all OOC. We KNOW he’s not a horrible person or an incredibly affectionate lover, but people write whatever they want. And no one’s going to stop them! Not the posts clogging up the tags or the weird asks.
There’s so much more, but the main arguments that keep being repeated are ‘it’s weird’ and ‘if you write about it, you’re probably going to do it in real life’. That take is so fucking stupid I can’t help but laugh. Same bs as white moms claiming their son is going to shoot some place out just because he plays violent video games. The whole point? SEPARATE FICTION FROM REALITY. And if you don’t like something? IGNORE IT? Why are you willingly engaging like omg are you stupid or dumb.
OH AND. ‘kids could see this!’ When will you all learn that no matter what you do, you cannot control what a person sees or decides to interact with. Especially minors. I’m willing to bet half of a smut writers followers are minors. Guess what? People lie all the time, about their ages and whatever else. It’s the fucking internet, of course they do. It’s not the responsibility of the blog owner to take care of children. The most they could do is plaster a big fat MDNI on their blog, that’s it. It’s the job of the parents to control what their kid watches or consumes, and we can’t exactly help with that. So don’t pretend to gaf about minors like omg.
Anyways. I’m too lazy to continue writing like I just needed to say this because some of you are slow. Me and many others are going to continue to write whatever the fuck we want. In conclusion? Block if you don’t like it LMAO. I don’t care about what some rando has to say on the internet.
#🪼☆.thinking#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x y/n#leon s kennedy x you#dark content#some of yall r DUMB
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Following up on this excellent post from @nightgoodomens, it really is astonishing to see so many people in the GO fandom misunderstanding the characters/personalities of Aziraphale and Crowley. While I by no means am against people having head canons or differing interpretations, it has become frustrating to see people pushing their ideas about Aziraphale and Crowley onto others and declaring them to be official canon, leaving no room for any kind of discussion.
One of the things spoken about in the above linked post is the denigrating of Crowley, which seems to be a near constant in the fandom at this point, particularly in relation to the "apology dance" scene. (Which, to be fair, is chock full of soft!Dom Aziraphale vibes--thank you, Michael Sheen.) What seems to keep getting missed is that the entire apology dance routine is something that Aziraphale and Crowley do to each other. There is just as much of a possibility that Crowley sat there with a similarly smug look on his face and let out a guttural, snakey "Very nice" when Aziraphale did the dance in the years he listed off, because they play this game together.
Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship is one of equals, and I think this is also something people seem to not understand well. It seems as though a lot of fans who project themselves onto Crowley want to be taken care of, and so they want to believe the same of Crowley, and that the reason he wants to be taken care of is because he is broken. But someone doesn't have to be broken to want someone to take care of them. Sometimes the people who are a shambles on the outside can be dominant, just as sometimes the most buttoned up, put together people can also be submissive. And sometimes the people who look in control on the outside can feel not at all that way on the inside.
But this nuanced thinking seems to increasingly be difficult for many GO fans, particularly those who spend a great deal of time on social media, a place where people are either blindly praised or denigrated and torn down, and where such behavior greatly reinforces that binary, black-and-white mindset. We so badly want the world to be clear-cut--good vs. evil, heroes vs. bad guys--but very often that just isn't how things work. And it is exactly what Terry and Neil were trying to speak against in the GO book (and subsequently, the TV show).
The other thing that I think influences a lot of fans' perceptions about Aziraphale and Crowley is their chosen corporations (i.e., Crowley being thin and Aziraphale being plump). There is an automatic assumption that thin somehow equals more vulnerable, and for all of the emphasis that is placed on Aziraphale and Crowley being genderfluid/nonbinary/not subscribing to traditional gender roles, it's Crowley who seems to be viewed as more androgynous/femme, and is therefore looked at as inherently vulnerable. Meanwhile Aziraphale is thicker and viewed as more masculine, and therefore he is somehow inherently not vulnerable. Yet if the body types were reversed, it seems highly likely that fans' attitudes toward them would be much different.
(It also saddens me that this seems to mirror the fans' treatment of Michael and David, where Michael serves as a target for the fans' venom and is seen as less desirable/more threatening because he presents more traditionally masculine, while David is not targeted or attacked and is seen as more desirable/less threatening because he presents much more androgynously. Consequently, many fans find it easy not to sympathize with Michael, and when you can readily disregard someone's feelings, it becomes easier to see them as "less." In the case of Aziraphale and Michael, it leaves no room for either one to be vulnerable and is unfair to both of them.)
What I have always taken away from Good Omens--and from Michael and David's portrayal of Aziraphale and Crowley and how deeply they both understand these characters--is that Crowley doesn't need to be a perfect angel for Aziraphale to like him. He just needs to be a little bit of a good person. And Aziraphale doesn't need to be a perfect demon for Crowley to like him--he just needs to be enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. Neither one has to fully subscribe to the other's outlook or point of view to listen to what they have to say.
Aziraphale and Crowley meet in the middle. In the place that becomes their side, and where they take care of each other, fight with each other, and love each other. And that's more than most of us could ever ask or hope for...
#good omens#aziraphale#crowley#michael sheen#welsh seduction machine#david tennant#soft scottish hipster gigolo#ineffable husbands#i think this is also why so many fans can't handle honest criticism of GT and AL#in their minds either someone is completely good or completely terrible#there's no middle ground to just see someone as they are#i swear to God people have no sense of nuance anymore#i've had it officially.gif#also Michael yelling about Aziraphale being a bottom in 2019 was more galaxy brained than any of us even knew#PhD level of understanding of the assignment#bless his bisexual Welsh chaos#fandom woes#thoughts#discourse
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The Interview [K. Hammett]
pairings: kirk hammett/female! reader
warning/s: smut, inappropriate language. MINORS DNI
-request via message of the reader interviewing kirk! (REQUESTS OPEN)
5:00 AM
That’s what the clock read as I blinked my eyes groggily. My body was still numb from sleep. The hours rushed by so fast it was as if I never slept.
“God, I have an interview.” I thought as I rose from the soft duvet and headed toward the kitchen to make myself some coffee. I glanced at my apartment windows noticing the still dark sky. As the coffee maker softly hummed in the background, I pulled out my papers to look back into the history of the band I would interview later on.
METALLICA
That’s what was written as the headliner of the article I was reading in huge bold text.
Hopping into the shower I was rehearsing my questions, I had none prepared. That was the point of our brand. We intend to make things come up naturally and we invest on making sure we knew who we were talking to flat out.
“Should I look up a photo of them?” ... Shaking my head, I thought an element of surprise would be good.
After the shower I hurriedly rushed to my closet. “Should I dress in black? I mean- they’re a metal band. Am I supposed to look the part?” All these questions rushed in. I really should have prepared more the day before. I pulled out some black button long sleeves and some denim shorts with a black studded belt.
Downing the coffee in one go, I grabbed the keys of my car and rushed to the venue. It was in some room of the arena they were performing in. Call time was at 7:00 and it’s already 6:48.
Parking was easy, the lot was huge. I found myself running to the arena and into a hallway. Stopping at a door with 1507 written at the front.
I took a deep breath in and entered. The crew was in already. 2 guys named Michael and Jim.
As soon as I walked in Jim (the cameraman) hit record.
Only one guy was sitting on the chair, I looked back at Michael in confusion as he just nodded at me to go on.
“Oh, um hi-” I extended my hand over the table as I took a seat down in front of him.
“Kirk. Kirk Hammett. Yeah, it’s just me, the guys are still sleeping.” He laughed softly as he shook my hand.
“Yeah sure, that’ll be fine. We could start the one-on-one interview now if you’d like?”
“Oh for sure yeah, you guys are the Ride or Die people, right? How does this work?” He looked at me with intent as I waved off Jim to stop filming.
“Yup that’s us. Basically, we ask general questions. Some fan questions that could get a liiitle too personal can come up and you have to answer honestly. That’s our whole gig.” He nodded, his mouth making a small “o”.
“This’ll be interesting for sure. Never expected a cute girl from a name like Ride or Die actually.” His comment made me heat up; I mean. This man was gorgeous, he had such nice curls and an adorable smile. There was so much I wanted to-
“Hey. Are we starting?” Jim interrupted my thoughts as Kirk looked back at me, amused.
“Ah yeah- sorry. Start rolling.” He hit the record button as I once again extended my hand to the guitarist.
“(Y/N)”
“Pretty name, I’m uh. Kirk.” He grinned at the camera almost awkwardly.
“Renowned guitarist of Metallica. Wow it truly is an honor. How are you doing today, Kirk?”
“Haven’t had breakfast, the boys are sleeping, it’s 7:00 AM. I’m pretty good.” We both shared a laugh as we finished up some questions on the album, the band’s touring and his thoughts on the city.
“Now for the fun part. Fan questions. I’ve gathered some questions they are dying to know.” I enunciated the ‘dying’, watching him suddenly turn to stifle a small laugh.
“I’m kinda scared to be honest. They could get a little crazy.”
“You’ll be fine! This one is from Kacey, and she wants to know what your type in groupies are.” I cocked a brow at his furrowed ones.
“Wow. This one’ll need some deep thought.” He looked up as if he was reflecting.
“Probably someone like her.” He nodded at me as I held my chest in pretend shock.
“I look like a groupie?”
“You’d look good as one.” It was Michael's turn to chuckle as the camera whipped to him and I shot him a look.
“Who was the last person you had in bed?” I continued.
“Jesus. At least get me some breakfast first, wow.” He rubbed his face in embarrassment as he went on “Come with me and it could be you.”
“God I would.”
“What was that?” He shot me a look as if in shock.
“Huh?”
“You said you would. You’ve got some honesty there Ms. Interviewer.” He leaned in my direction as I mouthed a “cut that out” to Michael, who just rolled his eyes at me.
“This is the last question.” I stated as he clasped his hands together, awaiting.
“What place do you want to visit most?”
“Back to serious ones huh. Hawaii. It just looks so relaxing y’know.”
“Well. Thanks Kirk. That’s all.” I glanced back at the 2 men who hurriedly sorted their gear back into place.
“Yeah, the rest of the band probably isn’t going to wake up any sooner.” Kirk called out to me as I rose from my seat to leave.
“Ah yeah that’s fine. I could come back some other time.” I put the notes I had back in my bag.
“I was serious by the way. I think you’re gorgeous.” My heart was suddenly pounding, I looked back to see both Jim and Michael gone.
“Thanks, Kirk. You look goo..d” I mentally face palmed. I was dead nervous, and it was more than obvious.
“I don’t bite (Y/N). Come here.” He rose from the seat and approached me. He was taller, by some inches. He smelled like tobacco and a few hints of spearmint.
“I’m sure you don’t.” I backed up toward a couch just at the end of the room.
“Relax. I’ll take care of you. Sit down.” He motioned toward the couch as he knelt on the ground.
“Tell me. Do you want this?”
Only a sicko wouldn’t want this. He was knelt before me and I just wanted to scream. “Yes please.” He grabbed my calves from the bottom as he softly trailed them on top of my knees. “Remove your shorts.” Quickly removing my belt, I looked away in embarrassment, I was still wearing my underwear and I was already flustered. Christ. “Pink panties? Thanks for dressing up for the interview I guess.” Kirk grinned, his fingers clasping at both sides and dragging the underwear down.
“Hey. I could stop anytime.” His brown eyes bore into mine as I shook my head with a clear no.
His rough hands caressed my thighs, opening my legs further. “You’re so wet already.” He dragged a finger down my slit and back up. Resting a hand on my stomach he licked a stripe and gave a coy smile at my flustered face. “Do you want me to stop?” His voice was almost a whisper as the pounding in my ears increased.
He stood up and leaned toward me to give a kiss, his lips were soft and wet and strangely tasted like mint. Grabbing my waist, he sat next to me and pulled me up to his lap as he continued to feather my neck with small kisses.
I lifted my hips as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, he raised his hand to gather the slick from my cunt and pumped himself, his breath hitching.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, please.” I breathed out as he gently placed both his hands on my hips and lowered my body to his tip. “Fuck.” He moaned out, stretching me as I whined at the foreign feeling. My eyes squeezed shut while he whispered reassuring words, dragging his other hand on the back of my head and pulling me closer.
“It’s alright sweet girl, move when you’re ready.”
I rested my head on his shoulder as I raised my hips up slightly and started moving at a slow pace. Gaining the courage as I got used to the pressure, he met my bounces with a hard thrust each time. I moved my head up to look at him. His hair stuck at the sweat of his forehead and his blown eyes focused on his cock pounding my cunt.
He flipped me over and was now on top, still pounding, chasing his high. My legs were over his arms now as I gasped at the new position. Placing his thumb on my clit, he rubbed small circles, his jaw slack. My eyebrows furrow as I feel my orgasm rushing. “C’mon, baby.” He leaned to kiss me again, suppressing my soft moans.
“Fuck, Kirk. I’m close.” My eyes started to tear up as his pace quickened. He’s hitting my sweet spot over and over as I choked a moan and felt my body tense and slacken at my release.
“Your pussy feels so fucking good. I’m close, baby.” He rambled as he rammed into me, and I felt him fill me up after his thrusts.
He pulled out as I swallowed at the feeling of loss. He knelt in front of me between my legs and laid his head on my stomach, breathless.
“Wanna interview me again sometime?” He looked up with the same cheeky grin.
“I’ll think about it.”
#kirk#kirk hammett#kirk hammett fic#kirk hammett x reader#kirk hammett smut#metallica#metallica fic#metallica smut#kirk hammett x you#metallica imagine#kirk hammett imagine
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☆ we've met again ft michael kaiser
synopsis: Four years past since you left and raised his kid alone until fate decides to bring him back to the picture.
─── ୨୧ warning: slight angst
─── ୨୧ notes: Is the fandom dying?? Why hadn't my post gotten as many hype as before lmao! It's sad but anyway I'm back with another drabble to feed you all!! Happy reading everyone xoxo!
You hastily pick up your car key and grab a few of your works essential stuffing them inside your suitcase. Your four-year-old son is by the patio sitting and playing games with his nanny when you tread to him 'Kay, mama had some work to do. I promise I'll be back for dinner. Be a good boy for me and do not cause trouble alright? Have a nice day at school.: He nods putting down his gadget, and wrapping his arms around your neck to hug you 'I love you' You give the side of his head a chaste kiss before letting go.
'I had some leftovers from last night you can use as his lunch and as for the dinner I'll just buy takeouts.' You inform his nanny giving her an advance payment before you left the house.
You drove to your office receiving an unknown call on the way. You pick it up and greet the caller but silence. They said nothing before it abruptly ended. You stare at your phone before shaking your head. It didn't occur to you about anything serious as you continue steering the car and parked at the basement parking lot.
Your secretary, Miss. Juliette is already by the automatic door waiting for you with a clipboard in her hands. You got out of the car and rush to her 'What's my schedule for today?' You punch the elevator button while your secretary notify you about every single of your tasks today.
You got a lunch with one of your important client, a meet -up with your temporary business partners and a dinner with another client -
'Cancel my dinner with Mr. Han. I'm having dinner with Kayden tonight.' Juliette didn't need to be asked twice knowing how firm you can be when it comes to your son. For him, everything comes first. No matter how important your job is. She immediately postponed the dinner meeting to another date before moving along with you to your cabin.
'Do you need your coffee today?' You rapidly nod and start doing your tasks, bringing out works and files so that you can finish faster. 'Make it two, I need extras.' You lend a sweet smile before you got to work.
The clock almost strikes six - just enough time for you to finish all of your work for the day and get the takeouts you ordered online. You pack your stuff and your necessities when your phone rang for the nth times of the day. You didn't think twice before picking up 'Hello?' It was silence... Again before a sharp and low 'Hey' is heard.
You blink in surprise asking them to know who they are but no answer and it ended again. You rolled your eyes and left the room to the car park. Yo throw away your bag in the back seat and resounded the car, cooling off the engine and blowing on some loud music to distract you from the suspicious spam calls.
'Yes, thank you so much! Have a nice day!' You rolled up the window putting down the food beside you on the shotgun seat. You maneuver the car to Kayden's school in silence but the radio.
You arrive at Kayden school's main gate and got out to meet with his teacher 'Hello ma'am. I'm here to pick Kayden up.' She was looking at you back and forth 'A man has already picked him up claiming to be your husband. Kayden went along with him.' You started to panic bringing out your phone and calling his nanny asking her to come by his school and help you look around.
You bow down at his teacher and run around the neighborhood, looking for your son. Thick tears threaten to fall when you look around but find him nowhere.
You call for his name again but are abruptly interrupted when you see a vogue silhouette of your son with a familiar blond and blue streaks hair sitting together on a bench near the playground.
'Kayden!' You yelled his name averting his whole attention toward you 'Mama!' He cries out running your direction to hug your trembling form 'You scared me!' You scolded him with tears now cascading down your cheeks 'I'm sorry...' You sigh tightening your hug and breaking it off after some moments.
You suddenly remembered the familiar blond guy with your son 'And who are you with-'
'He is with me.' The familiar voice brings you out of your trance. You pick Kayden up and rush away but he holds your hand 'I met him already, no need to hide away.' You carefully yank his hand away and sigh.
You put Kayden down and hide him behind you out of instinct.
His irises collided with yours, the identical smile adorning his complexion. 'This weird uncle said that he's my father. I don't believe him because he is so ugly. I don't have an ugly father right, ma? I'm too handsome to be his son.' He absentmindedly roasted his biological father that succeeded to bring a smile and a chuckle from you.
You pull his hand gently and turn to Kaiser 'He got all your traits.' You mentioned bringing confusion written all over Kayden's face.
'You are making my mama cry.' He said creating a dagger on Kaiser 'Am not.' He challenged, his hand on his midriff with his head tilt aside 'You are. If you are my father then you are the reason my mama cried almost every day because... She missed you.' A soft gasp elicited from you, your eyes sheet moist with tears once more.
'Then tell her, she should've not run away.' Kaiser held your hand, one brow furrowing. You push him away and wipe your tears. 'Kayden, stop spouting nonsense.' He huffs and pouts away.
'How do you find out about us?' He shrug 'I had my ways and that is not your concern. Not at all.' He lifts your chin and smirks 'You are still as beautiful as I remember.' You scoff but could not help the bright red hue on your cheeks.
'And I suppose it was you too, the one that's been calling me?' He laughs but nodded 'But I'm sure with my calls it helps to remind you of one thing.'
'And that is...?'
'It would be dangerous for such a gorgeous lady as you to be in a house that's not with your husband.'
'Can you stop flirting with my mama, weird uncle.' Kaiser is about to bite the tongue of his son but you prevent him from doing so 'Kay, I need you to start getting along with this uncle from now on.' He groan cut obligated
'Do you finally accept me back? Oh, and I need an explanation as to why you left. It can't be because of you are pregnant...' You look down at Kayden and ignored his question.
His mouth formed an 'o' shape but then he smiles 'I guess I can forgive you.'
'I think I need some time...' You suddenly mention making Kaiser confused 'About what?' You held his forearm 'About us.'
He nods picking Kayden up and make him yelps in surprise 'Sure. Let's go now little K.'
He places an arm around your waist and the other used to hold Kayden. You smile feeling somehow relieved - Kaiser and Kayden ended up bickering as to who you loves more all the way home and they both get a nice scolding after.
#i ★ writes jud3 ✸#michael kaiser#michael kaiser fluff#michael kaiser smut#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x you#blue lock michael kaiser#bllk michael kaiser#blue lock#bllk#blue lock drabbles#bllk drabbles#blue lock fanfiction#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff#blue lock fic#bllk fanfic#bllk fic#blue lock headcanons#blue lock hcs#bllk headcanons#bllk hc#blue lock imagines#bllk imagines#blue lock kaiser#bllk kaiser#blue lock masterlist#bllk masterlist#blue lock oc#blue lock oneshots
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What if BAU reader is on a horrible blind date in a bar or something and hotch is there with Rossi at a different table and they can tell she wants to escape (or maybe throw a glass at her date) and Rossi encourages (jealous?) Hotch to save her.
Aaron can see the discomfort written all over you. You're sitting straight up in your chair, rigid and distancing yourself from your date. Your eyes drift to your phone in your lap every few minutes, thighs nudging the lock button to see what time it is. You're nursing your drink instead of talking, and all of your responses in the past ten minutes have been 'okay', 'cool!', or 'mhm.'
Dave leans his head to the side, popping into Aaron's line of sight. He's looking at Aaron exasperatedly, "Just go, Aaron."
"I'm not going to crash her date." He brushes Dave off immediately, trying to get the icy cold condensation on the outside of his class to cool the flames of jealousy that burn at his insides.
"But she's clearly not having a good time." Dave reasons, "Look at her! She looks like her stomach hurts."
"What would I even say?" Aaron scoffs, "I can't pretend to be her boyfriend."
"You could pretend to be her father," Dave smirks, but it's shut down as soon as Aaron opens his mouth.
"Or you could go and pretend to be her grandfather."
"Okay, nevermind." Dave snaps, taking a sip of his drink and mumbling hardass against the glass rim.
"I'm sure she's fine." Aaron looks away from your disinterested face, biting the inside of his cheek, "Or- I mean, if we leave soon, we can just walk by her or something. Just in case she wants our help."
"You're unbelievable," Rossi snorts, grabbing his phone, 'I'm going to text her that you're coming to save her."
"No, don't!" Aaron practically lunges for the phone, creating much more of a commotion than he means to. It means that your eyes desperately flit towards whatever could distract you next, meeting your boss's own dark ones from across the bar.
He's going to pretend he doesn't see your eyes light up at the sight of him, because if he doesn't, he'll go insane.
"Yeah, yeah, that's really nice, Michael!" You nod enthusiastically, reinvigorated as you slide off of your chair, "Listen, I see my boss over there, so I'm gonna go say hi, okay? See you," You pointedly take your purse with you, rushing over to Hotch and Rossi's table.
You reach them in record time, splaying yourself out over their tiny, slightly sticky table, "You guys!"
Dave chuckles at your groan and pats your back reassuringly, "You didn't look very entertained."
"He just kept talking about fishing," You groan, peering up miserably at Hotch, "It was a nightmare."
"I'm glad you saw us," Aaron smiles down at you, some of the weight taken off of his chest, "I thought we were going to have to come and rescue you."
Rossi rolls his eyes, "Oh, yeah, when I told you to rescue her it was a bad idea, but when you thought-"
"Take my chair," Aaron slips down from his seat, voice louder than it needs to be to drown out Rossi's expository statement, "Do you want a refill on your drink?"
"Oh, uh," You ponder, staring down at your near-empty glass, "I guess it would be nice. I'll flag down a-"
"Dave," Aaron hands the man your cup, eyes ablaze, "Why don't you go get it?"
"I know where I'm not wanted," Dave smiles exaggeratedly after a tense moment of silence between the two of them, patting you on the back as he leaves, "'Hope this date's more interesting than the last."
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner scenario#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner one-shot#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner headcanon#aaron hotchner headcanons#aaron hotchner hc#aaron hotchner hcs#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner dialogue#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction
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Food Fight Fun
Happy Hoard Trailer Premiere Day!
I was inspired by this certain part of the trailer where Michael and Maria are having a food fight and just the way he’s towering over her like that gave me naughty thoughts! 😛
Micahel(Hoard) x Fem!Reader
Warnings: food fetish, p in v, food fight, nipple sucking, oral sex, language.
It was a pretty uneventful Thursday night. Nothing really good on telly or funds for a shopping spree. Michael stopped by to relieve your boredom and get a free meal out of you.
You decided on a simple taco night since you really didn’t have anything else to make, payday was tomorrow. Michael grabbed the ground beef and started frying it in the pan as you fetched the condiments and plates.
While cooking, Michael talked your ear off like usual about work, his favourite team, and the stupid shit his mates did. You didn’t care so much and every now and then let out an “uh huh.”
You both sat at the table and munched away. Michael asked why you were so quiet, “I’ve just got nothing interesting to say…besides you were going on and on and I couldn’t get a word in edge wise.”
Michael looked at you in shock, “Well, excuse me for having an interesting life unlike you ya hermit.”
“I am not a hermit! I just choose not to interact with the crazies out there for longer than I care to.”
“I’m out there everyday…am I one of the crazies?”
“Yah…maybe you are and I shouldn’t let you in my house eating up all me food!”
You looked down at your plate, the corner of your eye you can see Michael smirk.
“If you don’t like me eating up all your food…then you can have it back!”
With the end of that sentence, Michael flung his half eaten taco right at your face! It took you a while to process what just happened and then you responded, “What the actual fuck you crazy bastard?”
Michael started laughing. You stood up and walked towards him. “Oh that’s funny, huh? Laugh at this, you twat.” You took your taco and slammed it on top of his head, smearing it all over his hair and face. He started to go after you as you went into the kitchen for more “fire power.”
You started throwing eggs at him that pretty much landed on the floor since he was so good at dodging them. He went to the sink and grabbed the hose spraying you all over. You had the peanut butter in hand, grabbed a huge hand full and smeared it all over his face. While he was blind from peanut butter, you were able to get the hose and started pouring water down his pants.
“Oh fuckin’ hell! That’s cold! Stop!”
He then grabs you, picks you up, and lays you on the dining room table. He towers over you as you’re both out of breath. You take your finger and wipe the peanut butter off his face and stick it in your mouth with a gentle “mmm”.
“Do you want a taste?”
“Sure, love.”
You swipe another bit off his face and are about to put it in his mouth, when you get a wicked idea. Lifting up your shirt, you smear your finger over your stomach. Michael takes his long, thick tongue and glides it over your torso.
“That was good. Perhaps we need more peanut butter and other tasty treats.”
You remain on the table as Michael walks back to the kitchen to retrieve the peanut butter but also the whipped cream, ice cream, and chocolate syrup. He makes it back to the table, ripping off both of your soaked and food stained clothes.
You look over at the items with confusion, “ I understand everything else…but what’s with the ice cream?”
“I decided to make you into a delicious little sundae.”
Michael smeared the peanut butter on both sides of your neck licking so slowly. His hot breath on your lobes. He poured the chocolate syrup over your breasts and your belly as he wiped it all over you like a sensual massage. He took a spoonful of the ice cream and placed it carefully on both your nipples. The instant coldness made them perfectly hard as Michael lowered his mouth to them. His lips sucked them with force as his tongue waggled around.
He proceeded his waggling down to your belly button stopping right before your needy pussy. He grabbed the can of whipped cream, spraying it all over you. You stared down at that gorgeous face, biting your lip. He dove right in as if he couldn’t wait a second longer. The whipped cream was all over him as he eagerly gobbled up every inch of you.
Your moans grew louder, you grabbed your breasts and wiped the chocolate on your face. Michael started to pick up the pace as he clasped his hands with yours. Your body started to shake as your release mixed with whipped cream covered his face.
You sat up, grabbed the syrup, and dropped to your knees. You wanted a taste of the sundae as well. Michael leaned back against the table as you covered his hard cock in chocolate. You took him in your mouth, all the way to the back of your throat. He let out a loud moan as he grabbed your hair.
“Oh fuck! Yes! Suck my cock, baby. Mmmm…fuck…your mouth feels so good. Such a dirty girl.” He tasted so good, so sweet, you never wanted to stop. You squeezed his thick thighs as he fucked your mouth. His cum ran down your throat as you swallowed every drop.
He fell down to the floor then laid on his back. He lifted you on top of him, guiding his cock into your pussy. You were still so sensitive and him filling you up felt incredible. He might be an immature little shit but damn he knew how to fuck you silly. You rocked back and forth gaining momentum with each thrust. You grabbed the closest item on the table-the whipped cream-and went to town all over his large chest. You ran your tongue all over it before collapsing on top of him.
Holding him tightly, you could feel the topping rubbing against the two of you. Michael flipped you over and lifted you so you were in his lap. He reached for the syrup and you grabbed it out of his hand. You poured it in his hair and down his back. Your fingers massaged it into his curls.
Michael grabs you closer, you lay your head on his shoulder. You can see the syrup running down his back all the way to his perfect peach bottom. Damn, the boy had a great ass.
“Are you going to cum with me, baby?” He asks still holding you tight.
“Yes, I’m so close. Oh fuck yes keep going!”
You grasp his hair pulling back his head as he fills you full of his hot cum. Falling to the ground, you both lay on your backs catching your breath.
“Looks like we made quite the mess, yah?”
“Sure as shit we did…I’m not cleaning it up though.”
“What? Why not? I’m the guest…I shouldn’t have to clean up!”
“You fired the first shot, big boy. This is your mess!”
You start to get to and walk towards the bathroom. Michael proceeds to ask where you are going.
“I’m filthy…I’m going to take a shower. Now, if you quit your bitching and clean up fast…perhaps you can join me.”
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