#ok ok god i had a lot more to say about that than i thought oops. um. yeah. i learned how to draw for stuff like this. worth itTM

[hanniebaeee]

Freckles and Brownies

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: spicy dreams, some smut (not deep), and reader is slightly older MDNI

Genre: neighbors/friends to lovers, fluff, smut

Summary: Your sweet neighbor Felix has the biggest crush on you. You try not to give in, but he's way too irresistible.

You knew he was coming over even before you heard the knock on your door. Your apartment building had the thinnest walls in the history of thin walls - it was pathetic really.

But you liked your cute little apartment a lot - it was quiet (most of the time) and comfortable. Then there was Felix, your sweet neighbor who lived next door with his roommate, Jisung.

Felix was a joy to have around, because he was kind, considerate, and he always had a smile on his face. And he was totally obsessed with you.

He loved to bake and every time he baked, he would knock on your door, with a box of such yummy treats.

“Hey, I made extra. Thought you might like some,” he’d say, handing them over, with the softest smile on his face.

And your heart would skip a beat because, seriously, he looked like a fantasy wrapped in an apron.

Yes, you thought he was adorable. But he was your neighbor and you knew he was a few years younger, and so, adorable or not - you never crossed that line.

So, you pretended not to see the way he constantly blushed around you or the way his eyes would always linger a second too long. It was so hard, when he was right there in front of you, baking brownies or cookies every other day just so he could come and see you.

You had to draw a line. You had to.

The night was quiet, except for the soft tapping of your fingers on your keyboard as you worked. You were in bed, hair pulled into a messy bun, a mug of tea in hand, trying to meet a deadline you couldn’t ignore.

Your focus, however, was shattered by a noise from the other side of the wall. The very wall that separated your apartment from Felix’s.

At first, it was very faint. A low, muffled groan. You paused, fingers hovering over the keys, straining to listen. Maybe Felix was having another one of his late-night gaming sessions with Jisung?

Then it came again. Oh that's definitely not related to gaming.

You froze. Because that was a moan. A low, breathy moan. And it was your name.

“Y/N…”

Your stomach dropped. No way. NO WAY!

But then you heard it again. And again. His voice, soft yet clear, filtering through the paper-thin wall separating your bedroom from his. The sounds that followed were unguarded, raw, and so unbelievably... dirty.

“Oh, God, Y/N…”

Your entire body flushed with embarrassment and something else entirely. You slapped a hand over your mouth completely scandalized.

Ok, you knew he liked you, but this? He couldn’t be…was he seriously…?

You quickly shook your head as if that would help banish the thought. No. Felix was sweet and innocent and, okay, not innocent, but still.

But then came another sound. This one unmistakable the creak of a bed frame, followed by a low, guttural moan that sent your imagination spiraling to a whole new level.

“Oh, fuck,” you heard him whisper. “So good…”

Your hands shot to your headphones. It wasn’t even a choice at this point - it was pure survival. You jammed them onto your head and cranked up the volume on your playlist. There.

Not that it worked. Because no matter how loud the music, you could still hear him in your head.

You buried your face in your hands. You weren’t supposed to be hearing this. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about how Felix - sweet, blushing, brownie-baking Felix - was currently doing whatever he was doing!

---

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall…

Felix was lost in his dream, blissfully unaware of the chaos he was causing. In his dream, you were standing in his kitchen, wearing one of those pretty sweaters he always saw you in. But this time, the fabric was slipping off one of your shoulders as you leaned over the counter, a teasing smile on your lips. Oh he could see way more than just a bit of skin.

“Do you want a taste?” you asked, holding up your fingers dripping with chocolate.

He swallowed hard, his voice barely functioning. “Y-Yeah…”

You laughed softly, dipping your fingers into your mouth, licking them clean yourself.

“You have to ask nicely, baby.” you whispered.

His dream-self didn’t hesitate. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer, his lips crashing into your chocolate stained ones in a kiss so desperate, so needy, it made his whole body ache.

Felix let out a deep, throaty groan, clutching his pillow tightly as his dream-self pushed you against the counter, rutting against you like his life depended on it.

He pushed his face into his pillow, his hips moving against the mattress for some friction. He snaps awake, feeling a bit disoriented, but so damn hard and needy.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice so deep and raw. “I need you…”

His hand slips into his sweatpants, trying to help himself out of this mess, face still pressed into his pillow.

---

You yanked off your headphones, groaning in frustration. This was ridiculous. You were a grown woman. You could handle this.

You groaned as you heard another moan followed by the creaking of his bed (more frantically), and you threw yourself back onto your bed, burying your face in your pillow to stifle the hysterical laugh bubbling up in your chest.

This was insane. Completely, utterly insane. How are you supposed to face him tomorrow? You can't, not after this.

—

The next morning, you're walking down the hallway, so fatigued and sleep deprived after you spent the whole night unable to fall asleep. You were dressed for work, your bag in one hand, your phone in the other.

And the universe decided to play the most ridiculous joke on you, because there came Felix from the opposite side - t-shirt half-tucked, hair a little messy - looking totally…spent.

You tried to act casual, but he froze when he saw you.

“Morning!” he chirped, his face lighting up when he saw you. “You’re up early!”

“Yeah, well, work, you know…”

“Are you okay? You look kind of flustered.” Felix tilted his head, studying you.

“I’m fine!” you blurted, far too quickly.

“Are you sure? You seem a little... tense.” he said, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

Oh no, he wasn't doing this right now.

“Did you sleep well last night, Felix?” you asked, crossing your arms against your chest.

Felix blinked, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he said, “Uh... yeah. Why?”

You smiled sweetly, your tone laced with barely concealed mischief.

“Oh, no reason. You just seemed... very well-rested.”

Felix’s eyes widened, the realization hitting him rather mercilessly. “Oh my God.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the poor boy.

“What's wrong?” you asked, and he turned bright red, his hands flying to cover his face.

“I- I didn’t - how did you - oh my God!”

You patted his shoulder, thoroughly enjoying his meltdown and said, “Don’t worry, Lixie. Your secret’s safe with me.”

And with that, you walked away, leaving Felix a stuttering, blushing mess in the hallway.

Felix tried. He really did. After the mortifying revelation that you’d heard him, he swore to himself he’d keep his cool. He was a man, and he was going to act like it. Mature. Collected. Cool.

But every time he saw you, his resolve crumbled like one of his cookies.

You’d stopped by to return the Tupperware he’d given you last week (filled with brownies he’d baked as yet another excuse to see you). You were dressed casually in yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt, your hair tied back, but Felix could hardly keep his composure.

“Thanks again for the brownies,” you said, handing him the container with a smile. “They were great. As always.”

His heart did a full somersault at your praise. He took the container, his fingers brushing yours, and you swore you felt him shiver.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stammered, cheeks dusted pink. “Anytime.”

He looked into the box that was definitely not empty, and saw that was indeed full.

“I made some lasagna, we never return empty containers,” you said with a wink and Felix blushed as he smiled.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said, “Um, -”

A silence stretched between you two, broken only when Jisung called from inside, “Felix! Are you flirting with her again?!”

Your eyes went wide and Felix choked, turning toward the door.

“I’m not - she’s not - shut up, Jisung!” he growled and you laughed, as Felix turned back to you, now red as a tomato.

“Anyway,” you said quickly, backing toward your apartment, “I’ve gotta go.”

“Yeah, of course!” Felix said, nodding too quickly. “See you later?”

“Sure,”

---

“I don’t know what to do,” you groaned, stirring your latte, as your best friend, Jennie eyed you with a smirk. “He’s so… sweet. And attractive. And every time I see him, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Jennie raised an eyebrow, sipping her Americano and said, “So, I don't see the problem?”

“The problem,” you emphasized, “is that he’s younger than me. What if he regrets it later?"

Jennie snorted.

“Oh, please. What's a couple of years have to do with anything? He’s an adult. He can vote, drive, drink - he's a big boy, Y/N. Stop making excuses.”

“It’s not just the age thing,” you protested. “We're neighbors. It’s messy. If it doesn't work out, I'd have to move and then-”

“Babe, he's hot,” Jennie added, waggling her eyebrows. “Come on, Y/N. The guy clearly worships you. I bet he’d walk barefoot through a field of Legos if you asked him to.”

“Jen-”

“Look,” she interrupted, leaning forward with a smirk, “I get it. You’re scared. But life’s short. If you want him, go for it.”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. Jennie was the worst. But she was also… not entirely wrong.

---

For Felix, this was a whole crisis.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. The way you smiled, the way you smelled when you leaned in just a little too close. It was driving him insane.

Jisung, of course, noticed his nonstop thirsting.

“Dude,” Jisung said, tossing the controller onto the couch as Felix stared blankly at his laptop. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Felix muttered, though the pink tint to his ears gave him away.

“Oh, come on,” Jisung groaned. “It’s been, what, six months? You’re salivating every time she walks by.”

“She’s… amazing, ok? And perfect. And…” He trailed off, sighing deeply. “She’d never go for someone like me.”

“Why not?” Jisung asked, genuinely curious.

“Because she’s…her,” Felix said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “She's beautiful, and successful. And-”

“And so into you,” Jisung interrupted. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. Trust me, she’s interested.”

Felix shook his head, his heart aching. He wanted to believe it, but every time he got close to you, he felt like you were slipping through his fingers.

That night, as you lay in bed, your mind wandered back to Felix. To his soft voice, his shy smile, and the way he looked at you like you were his entire world.

You groaned, rolling onto your side. This was ridiculous. Jennie’s words echoed in your mind, Life’s short. If you want him, go for it.

You shook your head, trying to push the thought away. But then you heard it - the doorbell.

You sat up, heart racing. It was almost midnight. You slipped out of bed and walked to your door. You heard the bell again, and this time, Felix’s voice with it.

“Y/N?” Felix’s voice was soft but urgent. “It’s me.”

You opened the door quickly to find Felix standing there, looking equal parts nervous and determined.

“Felix, is everything ok?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he blurted out, his freckles stark against his flushed cheeks. “I know this is crazy, and I know I probably don’t have a chance, but… I had to tell you. Because it’s driving me crazy. You’re driving me crazy.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“Felix, I -”

“I don't know what to do,” he continued, his voice trembling. “But I need you to know. I’m completely, hopelessly in love with you.”

—---

The clock on your nightstand read 2:47 AM. You’d been lying in bed for hours, unable to sleep, your head spinning.

Felix’s confession played on repeat in your head.

I’m completely, hopelessly in love with you.

The words had shattered something inside you. You’d wanted to say something, anything, but all you’d managed was a stunned silence - staring at him with your mouth open, that he gave you a rushed goodnight. And bolted.

Since then, you’d been teetering on the edge of panic and longing. You didn't say anything. Anything at all. And seeing the disappointment in those big beautiful eyes of his, seeing his face crumble with sadness at your silence was absolutely heartbreaking.

You turned onto your side, facing the wall you shared with Felix. Your heart ached, the weight of unspoken feelings pressing down on your chest. He was right there, so close, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to bridge the gap.

---

Felix lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his hands gripping the sheets like they were the only things tethering him to reality.

He had spilled his heart to you, thinking it would work. And now? Now it felt like his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces.

You hadn’t said anything. Not a single word to give him hope or closure. He tried to convince himself you were just processing, that you weren’t rejecting him - but the silence was the most painful thing he'd ever had to endure.

His gaze drifted to the wall separating his room from yours. And his mind, traitorous as always, began to wander. He imagined you on the other side, lying in your bed, the soft curve of your lips, the way your eyes would flutter shut if he kissed you.

His fantasies were vivid, and utterly maddening.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He wanted you so badly it hurt. But more than that, he wanted you to want him.

He felt like he was suffocating.

---

You couldn't take it anymore. It felt way too claustrophobic in your room. You sat up, your heart racing and climbed out of bed and padded to your door.

You needed some air.

---

The sound of your door opening reached him, and his heart leapt into his throat. He scrambled out of bed, throwing on a hoodie as he moved to his own door.

He opened his door and walked straight into you.

“Y/N,” he breathed, after his body clashed with yours, and his voice was so husky and breathless.

“I…” You hesitated, looking equally breathless and surprised. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Felix stepped closer, his gaze searching yours. “Me neither.”

You bit your lip, your chest heaving with the stress of it all.

“Felix, about what you said earlier…” you began.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

“I meant it. Every word.” he whispered.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “And I…”

Before you could finish, Felix closed the distance between you, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His touch was gentle, and you both had a moment, staring at each other, absolutely terrified.

You didn't know who moved first, but here you two were, kissing. A kiss so soft at first, then deepening as months of pent-up desire spilled over. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a desperation that reflected your own.

Your back hit the wall and he tilted his head, licking into your mouth, and it was so absolutely hot.

When you finally pulled away from Felix, your lips still tingled from the kiss, and your heart pounded so hard.

Felix’s eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed a deep red. He looked absolutely stunned, his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out.

Oh no, why wasn't he saying anything?!

“I…” you began, but the words got stuck in your throat.

What could you even say?

“I’m sorry,” Felix whispered, his voice strained. He took a step back, running a hand through his hair, clearly panicking.

“No, no, I’m sorry,” you blurted, hugging your arms around yourself, feeling exposed in the oversized sweater you’d thrown on before bed. It barely skimmed your thighs, and now you were hyper-aware of how Felix’s eyes kept darting to your legs before snapping back up to your face.

Felix’s jaw tightened, and he let out a shaky breath.

“I…I should go.” he murmured and before you could stop him, he turned and sprinted back into his apartment, leaving you standing there.

—

The moment Felix shut the door to his apartment, he leaned against it.

“Shit,” he whispered, his eyes closed and voice trembling.

He wanted to scream. Or throw himself off a cliff. Because right now, all he could think about was the way you tasted, the way you looked in that damn sweater. The way you looked so… thrown after the kiss.

Groaning, he went to his bedroom and fell onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. He was turned on beyond belief, but the guilt was just as strong.

That kiss, though perfect, felt impulsive and reckless. And now? He had no idea where you two stood.

---

By the time the sun came up, Felix was in full-on stress-baking mode.

His kitchen was a disaster - half empty bags of flour, bowls and utensils littered every surface, and his oven was working overtime. He’d already made two trays of brownies, cookies, and a batch of cupcakes, and he was still going.

Because every time he paused, every time he let himself think, his mind betrayed him. That damn kiss was playing on repeat in his head.

He threw himself back into baking, hoping it would distract him. But it didn’t work. His fantasies just grew wilder.

“Stop it,” Felix hissed to himself, slamming the oven door shut.

But the damage was done. He was a mess.

---

By the time Jisung woke up (close to noon) and stumbled into the kitchen, Felix was pulling yet another tray of cookies out of the oven.

“What the hell happened here?” Jisung asked, blinking at the mountain of baked goods that had taken over their apartment. “Did you open a bakery while I was asleep?”

Felix shot him a glare and said, “Don’t start.”

Jisung raised his hands in surrender, though he did ask, “Rough night?”

Felix didn’t answer, instead focusing on packing some of the cookies into containers.

Jisung leaned against the counter, smirking. “This is obviously about Y/N.”

Felix froze for a second.

“I knew it,” Jisung said, grinning. “Care to share what happened?”

Felix’s ears turned bright red as he shook his head.

“I’m not talking about it,” he said.

“Okay, fine,” Jisung said, grabbing a cookie. “But, for what it’s worth, you should tell her how you’re feeling. Like, really tell her.”

Felix sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“I already did.” he said sadly.

Jisung blinked in surprise. “And?”

“She didn’t say anything.” Felix’s voice was quiet, almost defeated. “And then…and then…never mind.”

---

The moment you stepped into the hallway after a long day at work, you were hit with the mouthwatering aroma of chocolate and vanilla.

You paused, inhaling deeply. Felix was baking again.

You’d just changed into your pyjamas when there was a knock at your door. Opening it, you weren’t surprised to find Felix standing there, holding four containers of baked goods in his hands.

He looked kind of disheveled and his expression was tight - like he was barely holding it together.

“Felix,” you started, but he thrust the containers into your hands before you could say more.

“What’s all this?” you asked, looking down at the overflowing assortment of brownies, cookies, and cupcakes.

Felix let out a laugh - a sharp and humorless one.

“It’s your fault,” he said and your eyebrows shot up.

“My fault?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Because I can’t stop thinking about how you didn't say a word after I admitted my feelings for you. And then we kiss, and you don't say anything even then.”

Your lips parted, words failing you as he continued.

“It hurts. My heart hurts, and if I sit still I feel like I'm gonna faint. So yeah, I've been baking nonstop for hours now. You can eat them, throw them out, whatever you want. I just…I needed to get them out of my kitchen before I baked myself into oblivion.”

You sighed, setting the containers down on a nearby table. “Felix -”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head and taking a step back. “Don’t.”

“What? At least-”

“I have to go, or I'll end up doing something really stupid.”

And before you could stop him, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with all his baked treats and a heart that felt like it was breaking.

Felix was spiraling.

For days, he’d been avoiding you as much as possible. He hated it. He hated having to speed walk past you or ignoring you. He couldn't stop craving you, and all through his heartache, he still missed you.

And he still couldn’t stop himself from baking for you. It was the only way he knew to show how much he cared without risking saying or doing something that might ruin everything further.

The knock on your door came as you were finishing dinner. You opened it to find Felix standing there, looking as nervous as ever, holding a box of brownies.

“Hi,” he said, his voice soft.

“Hi, Felix,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.

“I made these for you.” he said, holding the box out to you, his hands trembling slightly.

You took the box, your eyes narrowing slightly.

“Thanks, but -” Before you could finish, he turned and started to walk away.

“Felix!” you called after him, but he didn’t stop.

Something inside you snapped. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Felix!” you yelled again, quickly placing the box on the ground and grabbing the back of his hoodie, tugging him to a stop.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he turned halfway to look at you.

“Please don’t do this to me, Y/N,” he said, his voice low. “I’m trying so hard to hold it together.”

“Well, stop,” you said firmly, pulling him back toward your apartment, your grip on his hoodie strong.

“Y/N,” he protested, stumbling slightly as you dragged him inside. “You don’t get it!”

“Shut up, Felix,” you snapped, cutting him off as you slammed the door behind you.

He blinked at you, startled, his mouth opening to say something else, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“I like you, okay?” you yelled, your voice rising. “I like you back, Felix! I’ve been trying to hold it in, trying to be reasonable because this whole thing is complicated and I didn’t want to make it weird, but I can’t take it anymore! You’ve been driving me mad with all your running and your baking and your stupid perfect face, so just - just shut up and kiss me already!”

For a moment, Felix just stared at you, his eyes wide, his lips parted in shock.

“You… what?” he whispered, as if he couldn’t believe his ears.

“I said I like you,” you repeated, your chest heaving. “Now are you going to kiss me or not?”

In an instant, he closed the space between you, his hands cupping your face as he crashed his lips against yours.

The kiss was desperate, frantic even, and you responded with just as much intensity, your hands fisting in the front of his hoodie to pull him closer.

Felix’s lips were soft but insistent, his hands shaking slightly as they slid from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were gasping for air, trembling and flushed.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Felix whispered, his voice rough and shaky.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his face and said, “Probably as long as I have.”

He let out a soft laugh, his eyes shining with something you could only describe as pure joy.

And he kissed you over and over, until the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable connection you felt with each other.

Dating Felix felt like stepping into a dream.

From the moment you both decided to give it a go, it was as if everything clicked into place. Now, you were greeted with the soft press of his lips whenever he saw you and even softer smiles that melted your insides.

He was so attentive, and so utterly devoted. And more perfect than you'd ever thought a person could be. He stayed over at yours a lot, and you kept him company whenever you could over at his. And it was absolutely magical.

Oh and he taught you how to bake. Or at least he tried.

---

Felix’s kitchen was a mess as usual, all his baking things spread everywhere. His sleeves were rolled up and his hair pushed back with a bandana.

You were perched on the kitchen counter, dressed in that sweater - the oversized one he loved so much, the one that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs. Your hair was loose, your smile teasing, and you looked like you'd walked straight out of his dream.

Felix swallowed hard, as he tried not to look at you. But when he did, he saw you leaning forward slightly, resting your chin in your hand.

“What’s next, Chef Lee?” you asked, nodding toward the bowl of brownie batter.

Felix cleared his throat, trying to gather himself.

“Uh, okay. So, once we mix the dry ingredients…”

His voice trailed off as you dipped your finger into the batter, scooping up a bit and popping it into your mouth.

The sound you made - a soft hum of approval - almost made him drop the bowl.

“Mmm,” you said, licking your finger clean. “That’s so good.”

Felix’s jaw clenched, his hands gripping the edge of the bowl to keep himself steady.

“Baby,” he said, his voice strained.

“What?” you asked, your eyes wide with mock innocence.

“You’re not… helping,” he managed, his gaze slipping down to your thighs.

You tilted your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you said, “I’m not?”

“No,” he said, setting the bowl down and taking a step closer to you.

“What am I doing, then?” you teased, tapping his bottom lip with your finger.

Felix caught your wrist, his grip firm but gentle.

“You’re being a bad girl,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

Your breath hitched as he stepped between your legs, his hands sliding over your thighs.

“What do you want, baby?” he asked, his fingers tightening on your skin.

You smirked, leaning in just enough for your lips to brush against his.

“I want you.”

That was all it took.

Felix kissed you like he was starving, his hands running over your thighs as he pressed you closer. He tasted of chocolate and something so uniquely him, and you honestly couldn't get enough.

His lips moved to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He pushed the fabric off your shoulder, kissing all your exposed skin, groaning as you thread your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly.

He pushed you back against the wall, his hands reaching under your sweater and pulling down your panties quickly. You gasped as he quickly bent down and threw your legs over his shoulders.

Your breath caught as he kissed your inner thighs and went on to give you the most mind blowing orgasm of your life.

The bowl of brownie batter sat forgotten on the counter as he devoured you. Your fingers were in his hair, his bandana long lost and followed by his shirt and a lot more.

You sat on the counter, grinning smugly, your legs swinging lazily as you watched him, shirtless and glowing, trying to salvage the brownies he had abandoned earlier.

Felix glanced at you, his freckled cheeks still tinged pink, and smirked. He just lived his fantasy. And you were glowing, and it filled his heart to see you like that.

“The brownies, Lixie,” You reminded him as he lost focus, and was lost in thought, his eyes fixed on you.

He was about to reply when the front door opened, and Jisung walked in.

“Felix -” Jisung stopped mid-sentence as he walked into the kitchen, his eyes darting between you, perched on the counter, and Felix, standing there shirtless with a tray of brownies in hand.

There was a long, awkward pause as Jisung's eyes fell on Felix’s shirt lying on the floor. And obviously both of you looked enough ruffled for anyone to catch up.

“Oh my god,” Jisung finally said, his face scrunching up in horror. “Ew! Not in the kitchen!”

You burst into laughter, your hands flying to your mouth, while Felix just shook his head.

“Nothing happened here!” Felix insisted, though the sheepish grin tugging at his lips wasn’t helping his case.

Jisung pointed an accusing finger at his shirt lying on the floor.

“Don’t lie to me! There’s literally evidence of your sins everywhere!” he said.

“Jisung, I swear -”

“Save it!” Jisung cut him off dramatically, turning to leave. “I’m never eating anything that comes out of this kitchen again!”

You couldn’t stop giggling as Felix turned to you.

“Babe,” he muttered, though he couldn't help but smile.

“I’m sorry,” you said, trying to sound sincere but failing miserably.

Felix rolled his eyes, setting the tray down before stepping closer again.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he said, teasingly.

“Lucky, huh?” you said, looping your arms around his neck.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours as he said, “Very lucky.”

“I CAN HEAR YOU!” Jisung’s voice rang out from his bedroom.

You both burst out into giggles, and you kissed him again.

“I love you, Lixie.”

“I love you, baby.”

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght

[deeplyshalllow]

Hi,

I absolutely love your posts on Fiyeraba scenes in the Wicked movie! I wanted to ask and this is just a thought I had but do you think Fiyero heals Elphaba with his acceptance of her appearance and as a person, because her major trauma stems from her father's rejection at her birth cause you hear "take it away" at many points throughout pivotal moments. Now that I think about it, her friendship with Glinda could be represented as a version of Elphaba's dynamic with Nessa where the sisters love each other but Nessa never protects Elphaba the way she does.

What are your thoughts on this?

Keep up the great content!!! 😃

Firstly, I am so sorry it's taken me this long to reply! It's been on my to do list all week but Pre Christmas and work and the need to also write a 3500 word essay on the Lion Cub scene, has made it hard for me to find the time to write a proper answer.

Short answer: I agree.

Long answer: I think Elphaba is hugely damaged by the way her father treats her. I think she has been othered all her life, including by the people who should love her and she so desperately loves. And a lot of this presents itself both in doing anything for them, even when it personally hurts her, and almost deliberately making sure everyone else sees her as a person as "ugly" as her green skin. Because, if she does that, she doesn't end up finding other people whom she loves who don't love her back or betray her, as she says in the Lion Cub scene, she sees it as an issue that she "cares so much".

There's actually three people at Shiz who really challenge Elphaba's view of the world.

Firstly, Doctor Dillamond, who shows her kindness and also regards her as a friend. But it is important to note that he is also othered, Elphaba's fight for the Animals is to some degree because she sees herself in them, she wants them to be able to fit in in a way she never has had. She empathises and her bond with Doctor Dillamond is stronger because they both share similar problems.

Galinda and Fiyero are the first, I think, to get Elphaba out of her shell. They are the ones who love her for who she is, nothing to do with her green skin, and yes, I do think it's healing. She's let down her mask of defensiveness and discovered that people do like her for what's underneath! There is a moment in the movie, when everyone is cheering Elphaba off at the train station where I thought "ok, they could just end the story here and it's the most heartwarming, happy ending for Elphaba" and obviously it's tragic that this is never to be.

Interestingly, I think Elphaba initially regards Morrible and the Wizard as people who see her for who she is too. Morrible because she's very motherly and values Elphaba when she wants to use her for her power (especially in the movie), and the Wizard because Elphaba has grown up believing him in an almost God like way - being so sure he will understand and know best. So that it is ultimately them that betray her hits her very hard.

Which leads to Defying Gravity and Act 2. Where, unfortunately, a lot of this healing for Elphaba is reversed. She's betrayed by Morrible, the Wizard (and to an extent Glinda) when she's condemned as a Wicked Witch, people still judge her for the colour of her skin. She does fight to do what is right, but she does it while sacrificing herself, what she wants, who she loves, what will make her happy - what she had been doing her entire pre Shiz years for Nessa.

There are so many heartbreaking lines in act two where we see how hurt Elphaba is by losing people she trusted or cared about:

"Boq, it's just me, I'm not going to hurt you!"

"Nessa, I have done everything I could for you but it has never been enough and it never will be"

"Don't you think I wish I could? That I could go back to the time when I believed you really were wonderful? The Wonderful Wizard of Oz? Nobody believed in you more than I did."

"Fiyero, not you too," (though obviously this one gets very quickly resolved)

"I can't believe you would sink this low! To use my sister's death as a trap to capture me?!"

So, when we get to As Long As You're Mine, and the scene afterwards, I think Fiyero does attempt heal her, and I do think it does good, but there's also this line:

Elphaba: I wish I could be beautiful... for you. Fiyero: Elphaba... Elphaba: Don't tell me that I am, you don't need to lie to me.

Elphaba's wounds cut deep. And, if I'm honest, I'm not sure she's ever going to be fully healed.

I do think the end of the show, Elphaba passing the task of helping Oz onto Glinda, of being able to go with Fiyero and live a life for themselves is a way to heal. She's given so much of herself to her cause, because she doesn't really value herself as a person, Fiyero - who loves her for who she is and will do anything for her including laying down his life, lets her finally do something for herself that makes her happy. And likewise Glinda, though she doesn't necessarily know it, carrying on her legacy, means Elphaba no longer has to worry about leaving the fight - she knows Oz is in safe hands.

Through the two people she loved the most, by the finale Elphaba might finally be able to heal.

Also, as I have nowhere else to put it: I think her father's treatment of Nessa also fucks Nessa up. I know they're going to change it for the movie, as it's seen as ablest (and I don't want to say it's not as I have a friend who literally has a Doctorate in disability history who sees it as ablest too) but I've always seen the fact that Nessa thinks her chair as a curse as an attitude driven by her father. Her father, in blaming Elphaba for Nessa's disability and coddling Nessa because of it, has always made Nessa feel like it's her defining trait and it's something wrong with her. This has led Nessa to both treat Elphaba as if she owes her something, but also believe her life would be perfect if she could walk - a belief that is brutally smashed in Act 2 when she is given the ability to walk.

[mysteriouspersonrambles]

Ok I’ve been a little busy but wanted to get this out so here’s the basic line up and a small rundown of the characters

It’s going to be under the cut because man this list is crazy long

Jon- Jack Skellington

This is kinda obvious they are both the MC’s of their own story. But more than that, they both have that untapped curiosity and need to know. I mean Jaco had a whole lab set up in the movie. It could also tie back to Jon with his whole “unrelating need for knowledge and distain for boredom” that he talked about having as a child. In this AU I imagine he didn’t grow out of it quite as much as he did in TMA. Although I would still argue that he doesn’t like being bored in TMA I mean while he’s supposed to be “lying low” he still goes out several times to interview people. He also still has some eye magic things like forcing people to tell him things and going all ceaseless watch. But it’s more magic than fear god and I think eyes are a pretty Halloweeny thing.

Martin- Sally

Listen I’m a Jmart girly all the way and I think he fits her storyline so well. He has her cleverness and ingenuity and I can so see him brewing up different poison soups, it’s just like tea. I can’t remember if it’s a cannon or fannon fact that he knits but I think that goes nicely with the whole seamstress thing sally has. I can’t also see him using the detachable limbs thing a lot more to his advantage. Also I think that both him and Sally are mischaracterized to softer versions of themselves and are way more devious than people first think. I would also change his background a bit so his mom is Doctor Finkelstein, but like she is mad at him for his help but still needs it. It’s complicated and I’ll got over it more in her section. But Martin is a complicated guy with his fair share of mommy issues but a good hear and is way smarter than people give him credit for.

Sasha- The Mayor

Sasha has a lot of big changes to her story. First off she is a very competent mayor working more with Jon kinda like a business partner than blind follower. She runs all of the day to day events and basics of running the town. She does all the business and Jon does Halloween essentially. She likes her job and is very good at what she does, and unlike the NMBC mayor she is pretty much the leader of Halloween town. Sasha’s other face the one she flips to is actually Not-Sasha. She looks and acts completely different but everyone still treats her like the same person. It’s a running gag that Non-Sasha looks a little different every time Sasha flips between faces but nobody ever says anything

Daisy- Zero

Yes I know I’m jumping out of order but it will make sense soon. Daisy and Zero was one part actually story stuff and other parts i thought it would be funny. In terms of story she acts like her season 4 self. She’s Jon’s best friend ever since he he found her as a wandering sprit, vicious and more wolf than woman. Think season 5 daisy but if Jon was actually able to save her. Alongside the help of Daisy’s old partner Jon used whatever Halloween magic he has to pull Daisy’s humanity back to the surface. Im thinking they got stuck in the coffin again, I think that would be pretty funny and very fitting. Anyway Daisy is a werewolf shapeshifting spirit, think of her wolf form as a more muscular Zero. Her nose glows in her human form too :). She’s essentially who Jon confides in and calls him and idiot but then tries to help. She has more of a role than Zero did in the film since she can speak. Daisy was also not very impressed at being the one to lead the sleigh but she did it anyway because Jon’s her best friend and she loves him.

Ok so Tim, Melanie and Basira are going to be grouped together because they are the trick or treaters.

In this case the story was changed a lot so the. Characters were picked not really for personality or relations. But more for continuity so they are all more or less themselves just kinda in Halloween town

Tim- Lock

Tim looks good in Red let’s be for real. He would also make the “devilish good looks” jokes you know he would

Melanie- Shock

Melanie gives off the vibes of someone who would dabble in Wicca, like she definitely owns tarot cards. And besides “ the blind witch” is metal as hell and I think she would appreciate it.

Basira- Barrel

I’m not sure what exactly Barrel is but the bones thing he has going on creates a nice tie back to Jack. Which in turn creates a connection between Jon and Basira which could tie back to the two of them saving Daisy. Basira also sees things for what they are, a sort of “bare bones” logic if you would.

Anyway so the reason the 3 of them are listed together is because in this AU they do still work for Oogie Boogie but it’s not consensual. They are all tied to him via a contract and are forced to do his bidding. Tho they often half ass it as a way to get back at him. Melanie is the one to figure out how to leave and that’s when she blinds herself to get out. I’ll go over the implications of this and what it does later in another post.

On to the villain: if you think the whole contract thing sounded familiar you’d be right

Elias Bouchard- Oogie Boogie

He’s mean he’s green, and Elias would love having a gambling aesthetic let’s not kid ourselves. Elias is also the main character villain of TMA and I think it’s fitting that he also gets the main villain role here as well. I imagine his lair to be less giant roulette table and more bureaucratic mansion. Essentially he built his own Magnus institute in the outskirts of town and people can come and test their luck. More of a poker style table than a role of the dice. He acts all fair but instead of eating people he traps their souls in contracts. He is also made of eyeballs instead of bugs and the ones in his head are called Jonah Magnus.

Peter Lukas- Santa

Yes yes I know what this implies but it’s funny. Also I didn’t know any TMA character that would properly fit this role so why not give it to the guy who probably looks like him. I also think Christmas is partially a conduit of The Lonely. I mean what’s lonelier than spending Christmas by yourself. I don’t even celebrate Christmas and I do feel a little left out sometimes hearing how everyone gets together with the their family and I’m not. What I’m trying to say is Christmas makes a lot of people lonely and I can see the Lukas’ taking advantage of that. It’s also really funny to imagine an Oogie Santa divorce going on. Like I’ll give them more scenes because I can imagine the tension and it’s so funny.

Others 

Martin’s mother- Doctor Finkelstein

This one is more due to character circumstances but I think it’s a very complex dynamic. We know from TMA that Martin’s mother hated the fact that he had to take care of her and I wanted to play on that here. In this world she made Martin this the help of a lab assistant who then ran off after an accident leaving her sick and mostly alone ( yes I know sally has a different backstory in long live the pumpkin queen but I haven’t read the book so I’m sticking with just the movie cannon and my own thoughts). She needs Martins help with taking care of herself mostly but she hates him for it. Yelling and belittling him. But she also knows that without him she will probably die so she holds on to Martin tight. Getting mad when he runs off, guilt tripping him into coming back. She eventually does make a new assistant but Martin cuts off all contact with her. He makes a choice for himself and stands up to her and leaves.

Georgie- human?

Georgie was literally the hardest character to come up with because there is no good character to match her with that is majorly important to the plot but Georgie is a big character in TMA so she had to be here. So I came up with the idea of her being human paranormal investigator ( like in TMA except her podcast is her going out to explore places) and winding up in Halloween town. There is a side plot where she meets up with Melanie and helps her escape Elias’ contract. She has no fear due to the transference between worlds and as such is welcomed into Halloween Town. Although she finds herself starting to change and she isn’t sure if she’s still completely human.

All the other denizens are background TMA characters, or other holiday rulers like Nikola as the Easter bunny ( that one wasn’t a mistake capturing her, Tim just wanted a bit of revenge because she stole his brother. Danny isn’t dead just an egg painter now.) I’ll assign more people later

Since it’s getting into the holiday season I’m thinking about my Nightmare Before Christmas TMA au.

I’ve got nothing but a head full of ideas and I don’t know if anybody want to hear about it

But it’s going to be in the back of my mind for most of December

[crescentfool]

does anyone else want to stick these two in the same room together or is that just me... i simply think they are adjacent in vibes... (+a bonus thing???)

get u a fictional guy that makes you feel like this... seeing these guys just evoke a Similar Kind of Brain Chemical and Response. Help Me.

also have bonus yosuke doodle featuring the same brushes used here...! from january 23rd, lol.

[aromanticannibal]

The pattern is that people straight up do not read™. or they read a 3-5 tweet summary of what happened and treat it as if they did. or because shonen expectations based on "the classics" is bullshit and significantly rotted people's brains when deciding wether an ending is good or not.

Which could be nothing right

yeahhh. i will forever regret reading the last chapter through leaks because it was a dreadful experience, and watching everyone ever shit on it for like a week after genuinely made me want to just get off the internet forever or something because i felt like an idiot for liking the ending (all this is my fault for getting too invested in both tumblr and mha etc etc).

All the "it's rushed" and pacing complaints barely matter to me at this point because you just cannot feel the pacing of something correctly when you're reading it exclusively through leaks. you can't absorb info like that. And don't get me started on the number of complaints and criticisms I've seen of the last chapter that are just provably bullshit (I saw someone say Izuku didn't get a statue lmao. yes he did, you just read the fucking leaks and watched twitter drama unfold instead of reading the actual chapter i fear).

[lizardho]

I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Family Friend

Prompt: Jack Hotchner is arrested for underage drinking and the first person he calls to bail him out, is you.

It was almost 2 in the morning when you received the call.

"Y/N?" You heard the familiar voice of Jack Hotchnner's voice speak. He sounded small and almost scared.

"Jack?" You sat up in bed, immediately awake. "Are you alright?"

"I did something stupid Y/N. My dad's gonna kill me."

His words were slightly slurred and slow, imitating that of someone who had been drinking a lot. A million scenarios went through your head as you sprang out from under the covers, rushing to put on a change of clothes, holding your cell between your shoulder and ear.

"What happened Jack? Where are you?"

"I'm in jail. They said I could call someone so I called you. I know my dad is out of the state on a case, please don't tell him," he pleaded.

"Honey, I have to, he's your father. But we can talk about it when I get there. What jail exactly are you at?"

Once you were decent, you grabbed your keys and headed out the door.

"Fairfax I think- Oh God, Y/N, I'm so stupid, I don't even know why I was there. I-

"Jack, sweetheart. Don't say anymore, I'm headed to you now alright? Just sit tight."

He sniffled and let out an intoxicated hiccup. "Ok."

Hanging up, you dialed Aaron's number and put it on speaker as you got into your SUV, driving in the direction of the jail. The call picked up on the third ring and Aaron's sleepy voice mirrored your concerned tone from earlier.

"Y/N? Everything alright?"

"Jack just called me. I guess he's been arrested in Alexandria. He's fine, he's safe, but he did sound like he had been drinking. I'm on my way to pick him up now."

"What? Did he tell you what happened?" You imagined that he was doing the same as you, getting out of bed and dressing to catch the soonest plane out.

"No, I didn't want him to tell me over the phone. I can call you back once I get there and talk with him, I just wanted to give you a heads up."

"Thank you. I'm on my way as well." His voice was low and slightly gruff, telling you that he was pissed but trying to conceal it. You'd memorized all of his subtle tone and posture changes over the years of knowing him, having spent the better part of those years as one of his underlings before transferring units.

"Don't worry about it tonight Aaron, I've got it. You've got a case to solve."

Luckily, all of the lights were working in your favor as you had yet to hit a red, bringing you closer to Jack sooner.

"The team will be fine without me. I'll be there first thing tomorrow morning."

You knew there was no stopping him. He was as stubborn as a mule and you honestly couldn't blame him when it came to the fact that his son was just arrested for God knows what.

"And Y/N. Thank you. For being there."

You were glad he wasn't there to see the slight blush creeping into your face at his words as your voice spoke calmly, a strong opposite of what you were feeling.

"Of course Aaron. I'll always be there for you guys."

Your words lingered in the back of your mind after the both of you hung up, silently mocking your lovesick emotions. For years, the both of you had always kept your friendship that of which it was. A friendship, nothing more. As much as you may have wanted it to be something a little more...intimate. There were times you thought Aaron may have felt the same, by the way he looked at you just a second longer than necessary or how protective he'd get whenever he found out you were going out on a date. But he never voiced such sentiments to you, if he had any at all, causing you to bury your own.

It seemed to be the night that everyone was being arrested as you walked into the police station and towards the booking desk.

"I'm here for Jack Hotchner, he was brought in sometime tonight," you stated to the officer. She gave you a once over before typing into the computer, presumingly looking him up.

"Oh yeah. Looks like he was picked up from a neighborhood party for underage drinking. He's in the drunk tank. Hasn't stopped crying and telling everyone that his father is a FBI agent. That true?"

You sighed at the dramatics she described and sighed before answering. "Yes he is, and I'm Special Agent L/N, a family friend." You flashed your credentials, satisfying her interest and continuing on with the process of bail. 500 dollars later and a short phone call to Aaron to update him on everything, they delivered the still very drunk Jack Hotchner to you.

He practically ran into your arms, crying. "Y/N, I'm so sorry."

If you weren't such a sucker for the kid, you would've been giving him a very stern lecture on his reckless behavior. But you were a sucker and all you could do was hug him back tight and speak gently. "You're alright, I'm just glad you're safe. C'mon, let's get you home."

You thanked the cops and left the building, Jack following close behind obediently. Once the two of you were in the car and on your way back, you decided to have a few words.

"This can't happen again, Jack. You know that, right?"

He seemed to be fading in and out of sleep but was coherent enough to give you a nod of acknowledment.

"Just because you're not in jail anymore, doesn't mean there won't still be a punishment. You broke the law and your dad is not happy about that."

Suddenly at the mention of his father, his eyes sprung open in alarm.

"You told him?"

"Of course I told him Jack. He was planning on flying back the minute I told him the news but I managed to get him to at least wait until tomorrow so you can sleep off the alcohol and he can have some time to calm down. You're welcome."

He threw his head back, cringing his face, making you believe that he was gonna start crying again. "He's gonna kill me."

"Well I highly doubt that sweetheart but I'll be there just in case, to make sure the both of you stay calm, alright?"

He groaned in acceptance and you shook your head smiling at his childlike behavior.

- - - -

Using the spare key Aaron gifted to you a few months back, you helped Jack into his house and led him into his room. Flopping onto his bed and passing out almost immediately, you sighed before straightening him out and taking off his shoes, then covering him up with a blanket and turning out his light.

You knew he was fine to be in the house by himself, but still you stayed, taking minimal space on the massive sectional couch and covering yourself with a throw blanket, noticing how it smelt faintly of Aaron. It didn't take long for the sleep to find you.

- - - -

You woke up with a jolt as the sound of the front door closing echoed in the quiet house, sitting up and catching Aaron's eye. He seemed surprised to see you as he walked over to the dining room table and set his keys and briefcase down.

"Sorry I woke you. I didn't know you spent the night," he spoke softly, loosening his tie.

"Yeah, I didn't want to leave him here alone in the state he was in. He must've had a lot to drink."

A sigh escaped his lips while running a hand over his face, his expression looking tired and overworked. You could only imagine the stress he went through being a single father and Unit Chief as well as the toll it took on his mind and body. Getting up, you folded the throw blanket neatly and walked over into the kitchen, deciding to make the both of you a pot of coffee.

"I don't know why he's so out of control lately. Last week the school told me he's been skipping classes and receiving detention on a daily basis."

You figured Jack was still sound asleep considering that it was only 7 in the morning so there was no chance he'd hear the two of you talking.

"He's not out of control Aaron. He's just being a teenager. A teenager that lost his mother and barely sees his father, he's bound to act out a little."

You prepared the coffee, knowing exactly where everything was, having done these motions numerous times before. Some of your best memories with Aaron were ones where the two of you shared a pot in the late night and talked about anything and everything, just enjoying each others presence. You pushed away the momentary thought and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet.

"I just wish I knew what to do," he sighed. "He's getting more and more distant from me and I feel helpless about it."

You turned to face him, settling you hand on his arm, grabbing his attention. "Just be there for him. And tell him that. He'll come around eventually. He just needs to work through the emotions he's feeling."

He didn't answer but continued holding your gaze, a flicker of something behind his eyes that made you subconsciously hold your breath. "Thank you Y/N. For staying." His voice was soft- tentative almost. You watched his eyes glance down at your lips momentarily, the air now thick with tension. You stood there frozen as he took a small step forward, bringing his body closer to yours and his head tilting down to compensate the height difference.

"Aaron.." you whispered, his name almost spoken as a warning, worried that if he crossed whatever boundary there had been, he'd regret it and that would be the end of your friendship.

"Am I reading this wrong?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for an answer. He didn't lean in any further though. Didn't make a move to kiss you but his close presence was plenty. You could smell the cologne he would wear every once in a while, making your head dizzy.

"I just don't want you to regret this later on," you admitted to him, fearing he's end up agreeing with you. Instead, to your surprise, he reached a hand out to hold your cheek in his hand, making your eyes flutter shut briefly.

"The only regret I have is not doing this sooner." He leaned in, capturing your lips in his which you were more than happy to reciprocate. The kiss was everything you had dreamt it be. He was gentle, loving almost, in the way his arm came around your waist and slowly pulled you in. There was no rush, it was just you and him in the quiet house, everything else forgotten about, including the teenager who had unknowingly left his room to walk right into the living room, seeing everything.

"It's about time," he interrupted, making you practically jump away from Aaron.

"Jack." Your response was breathless, Aaron succeeding in taking it away seconds before. "I wasn't expecting you to be up so early."

You turned to step away from Aaron, which he allowed, but still kept his hand resting on your waist, a small knowing smirk on his face.

"Just because you were right about this, doesn't mean you're off the hook," Aaron said, making Jack roll his eyes lightheartedly. You spun to Aaron with a look of shock.

"Have you two been conspiring about me?" You were surprised of course, but also flattered that Jack felt so comfortable with you to talk with his father about his romantic feelings towards you.

Aaron shrugged his shoulders in admission. "Maybe just a little bit," he said, the tiniest of a blush creeping up his neck. "I just wasn't expecting for it to happen this morning, especially after all the chaos."

"Which I'm totally sorry for, Y/N. Thanks for coming to get me," Jack added. You walked over and brought the boy in for a tight hug that he pretended to not enjoy but eventually gave up and hugged you back. "I'm just glad you're safe and hopefully learned a valuable lesson," you spoke, pulling him back and giving him a once over. "Also, how are you up at 7 in the morning? If I had as much to drink as you looked like you did, I'd be dead till at least noon."

He chuckled and ran a nervous hand through his hair, something you noticed Aaron also did on occasion. "This wasn't my first time, Y/N. I've been drunker."

You gasped and looked over at Aaron who could only shake his head in disapproval but ultimately already knowing about it.

You turned back to Jack. "Well this time, it won't be just your father in charge of punishment. I'm gonna have some say in it as well. I know Spencer has an upcoming lecture on the Theory of Relativity this week. I think it'd be very informational for you."

The horrid expression on his face was exactly what you were looking for. "What?! No! Please, not uncle Spence's lectures. I'll do community service, babysitting, anything but that," he pleaded to his father, who threw his hands up in surrender but didn't lose the amused smile.

"I think it's a great idea. Consider that the beginning of the punishment as well. Now go get showered and dressed, you're gonna come with me to run some errands."

Groaning in disapproval, he did as he said and walked off down the hall to his room. You felt the warmth of Aaron come up behind you and pull you in, resting his head on your shoulder, arms around your stomach. "Good idea on the punishment," he praised, kissing your cheek.

You chuckled while moving to face him, a look of jest in your eyes. "Oh, you're not in the clear either, mister. I think I deserve a proper date after the secret scheming you and Jack have been up to."

The gaze of tenderness and affection glimmered in his eyes gave you butterflies and the ultimate need to pull him in for another kiss. You honestly felt like you could kiss the man forever.

When you both pulled away, he spoke. "How about tonight? I'll pick you up from your place around 6? You could wear that dress you've been talking about wanting to wear."

A big smile appeared on your face at his words, excited for the evening. You stayed just a little longer, sharing a cup of coffee with Aaron, giving some drunk advice to Jack before you all parted your separate ways. Knowing you'd see the both of them so soon, filled your heart with joy and the smiled never faded the whole drive home.

[freethefable]

having a bad time :thumbsup:

[just-jordie-things]

headcanon request: how would the jjk guys react if someone's trying to flirt with them but they're already in a relationship with their s/o?

YES i love some light jealousy teehee ___

GOJO SATORU

has no chill if someone's flirting with him. or worse, he thinks someone's flirting with him, but they're just taking his order, or letting him know his shoe is untied.

he's literally "I'M MARRIED"

(for the untied shoe one, he definitely trips when he runs off)

he's so annoying abt it fr. always throwing "i have a wife" (even long before you're married) around even when unnecessary

and ppl do flirt with him, he's gojo, but sometimes... he's just a lot.

even if someone looks at him too long, he's wrapping his arm around you and loudly announcing "in front of my wife? you're lucky i'm holding her back!"

and you're just standing there bewildered with the box of cereal you were about to toss into the cart and wondering who the hell he's talking to- and when the hell did he propose??

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

for the most part he doesn't really notice when someone's flirting with him. i think it would take some very obvious hints.

so say someone is really trying to get him to catch on, pulling all the stops- fluttering eyelashes, unnecessary touching, one too many comments about his eyes, and finally, slipping a piece of paper into his hand with their phone number.

megumi can accidentally be a little cold.

he scowls at the phone number before crumpling the paper and dropping it.

"i don't want that," he's completely expressionless when he speaks, and honestly, the flirt-er is lucky he said anything at all rather than straight up walking away. "i have a girlfriend"

and then he walks away.

and when he meets up with you again he's a little more affectionate than usual, holding you a little longer, pulling you closer when you settle on the couch or bed or wherever, kissing you a few extra times for good measure.

don't get him wrong, it's not out of guilt or anything. he just wants you to know that he thinks of you when you're apart, and that he appreciates and loves you to death. nothing could ever change that.

ITADORI YUUJI

i don't often add him to my brainrot posts but i SHOULD and i had the most brilliant thought for him specifically

if he's getting hit on, he'll shut it down casually enough, and just blatantly tell them they're not his type.

and then he'll just start listing everything about you. and lover boy is BABBLING ok, no one could shut him up

he's describing your hair your eyes your nose your hands your style- and once he gets thru the physical stuff, it gets random

he's talking about your hobbies, your weird interests or collections, how sometimes you're a bad driver but you try your best lmfao he gets on such a tangent i don't think he'd even realize his tactic for defusing the flirting is just confusing the other person to the point of no longer wanting to give him their number

and once he's done with his dreamy little speech, he just goes "like my partner!!" all excited and bubbly

he's always rushing off to meet up with you then, having got himself so eager to be around you some more

OKKOTSU YUUTA

he's polite, but firm. he can also be a little quick to say he's taken, but it's only because he wants to let people down easy!

he's very kind when urning down phone numbers or flirty advances, always giving a gentle smile and saying no thank you, or actually i have a girlfriend. and he never apologizes when he says the second one, but that doesn't mean he's cruel! he's just thoughtful and respectful of you!

yuuta's a total gentleman.

but. god forbid. if he gets one of those nasty ppl that pull the "your girlfriend doesn't have to know" bullshit. oh boy. he does not handle that well.

toxic!yuuta jumps out a little!!

for as polite as he can be, he can get nasty when provoked just right, and someone disrespecting you? his beloved?

first it's a lecture- how dare you suggest such a thing? do you often try to break up people's perfect love lives?

then it's standing up for your honor- do you know how wonderful and lovely my partner is? you couldn't even understand the lengths that their radiance extends to. this part usually gets a little messy. he can get carried away when talking about you.

and lastly, he gets personal. deeply. personal. if they're having a not-so-great hair day, or if their attempts at slipping him their number were particularly weak, he's pouncing on that. he sniffs out weakness like a goddamn Chivalrous Boyfriend Bloodhound and sinking his claws in. i think yuuta could be really mean if he wanted to.

but that's kinda hot tho

INUMAKI TOGE

definitely the funniest of all of them. bcuz if he's getting hit on, he kinda just... stands there.

._.

CAUSE HE LITERALLY CANT SAY ANYTHING ???

sure, he could play it off like he doesn't understand what they're saying, or even type a little note in his phone saying he has a partner... but...

toge definitely prefers to stand there, completely blank faced, and stretch out the discomfort as long as possible.

sometimes people just scowl and walk away, finding it rude

one time tho someone actually started tearing up and completely ran away

(you came back just as it happened, an ice cream cone in each hand and a confused look on your face. but there's no way your sweet, mute boyfriend made a person cry, right?)

[ennabear]

heyyy i need loser sevika hc or literally anything do wtv you want im obsessed and i needdds

HEHEHEYAYYYYY i’m glad my loser!sevika thought was well received because i’ve had her on the brain recently… here are some general headcanons, but lemme know if y’all want more or anything specific!!! nsfw at the end so 18+!!!

definitely has no awareness of her surroundings. and the fact that she’s huge makes this even better. bumping into tables at the bar— even knocking them over, running into people 24/7, stepping on and tripping over her cape to the point that the bottom is constantly muddy and shredded… yeah. but it’s so adorable to watch her stumble around!!

i think she’s one of those people who always just quietly eavesdrops. her presence can go unnoticed if she wants it to, so she just leans against a wall and listens to two people share every secret she could ever need about their current enemy. fuck, she’ll probably even take notes and leave the notepad full of info on silco’s desk.

we all know that she’s mastered the scary lady facade, but other than that i think she just… i dunno how to put this nicely… sucks at talking to people. you cannot have a normal conversation with her because she’ll just talk too fast and trip over her words, or she’ll stare at you like she’s trying to kill you the whole time. it takes patience!!! if you’re nerding out with her about mechanics or shimmer variants or something, she’ll go on forever and not let you speak. it’s not like she’s trying to be rude, it’s just that she finally trusts someone enough to talk, and boy does she have a lot to say.

when you first met she was probably this way too, just with wayyyy more blushing and stuttering. if you ever call her cute after one of her rants, she’ll actually short circuit. she’d forget everything she was talking about and stare at you with stars in her eyes and find it suddenly hard to breathe. and is it hot in here? god she’s sweating now, how strange.

i think it would be good for her to be with someone who is more extroverted and will drag her ass out of the house (which is bad for me because i’m even more of a loser than she is…) because she probably sucks at being confrontational or having fun. not that she isn’t funny, she just doesn’t prefer to tell her jokes or to engage in conversation. she calls it being reserved and you call it being shy. (you’re right and she doesn’t want to admit it.)

ok nsfw thoughts now…

strap sucker supreme!! literally her favorite thing ever. she’ll sit under your desk forever and just gag herself on it. probably cumming in her pants with how good you feel down her throat, especially if you run your hands through her hair while she does it. hell yeah!! she could die happy between your legs this way.

imagining that the brothel doesn’t exist in this loserverse (or at least she doesn’t visit it), she’s definitely a virgin when she first meets you!! poor baby would cry her eyes out the first time you fuck her, practically screaming at how good you’re making her feel. she’s never been this intimate with anyone before, never felt so good about herself and her body, and fuck you’re good at this.

she probably loves dry humping and grinding too. you can’t cuddle with her without feeling her hips slowly start to move against you under the blankets. if you tease her about being horny or needy, she’ll just bury her face in your neck and muffle her whimpers. but of course you’ll help her get off, she’s so hard working and deserving of it, of course. just a lil bit of teasing first!!!

hehehe playing into the humiliation side of this (well, not really, she just thinks everything she does is humiliating), imagine asking her very nicely to wear her strap in public, especially if you pick out a tight pair of jeans for her that makes it obvious. the whole time she’d be wide eyed and on edge, assuming that everybody knows, but really nobody can tell because of the way she’s refusing to move her cloak. she won’t even let you grope her or look in her general direction. but also she’s blinded by horniness, she can’t even see straight because the only thing in her mind is how she’s gonna get to fuck you when you get home.

not really nsfw but i think sex with her would also just be so fun!! she’d be giggling at herself and clumsily trying to position you both, or you’d be accidentally kicking each other the whole time in a tangle of limbs and hair and kisses. so fun… so cute… where is my loser butch… (that’s a joke lol i’m the loser butch oops)

[goldfades]

STOLEN MOMENTS IN PARKING LOTS──RAFE CAMERON

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

for this request!

─ summary | rafe tries to provoke jealousy by showing public affection for sofia, but as tensions rise, he confronts you and reveals his feelings.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x ex!fem!reader

─ warnings | NSFW!! (with plot) under the cut!! p in v, praise, pretty soft, nothing too cray but it's in the backseat of his car soooo. some angst in the beginning, rafe tries to fight someone (when does he not?), mention of drinking, ummm maybe cheating cause i lowk forgot about sofia cause bro does break up with her... but wtv! it's for the plot!

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! i actually love rafe more than i do life itself and... i wanna feed yall so PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME ANYTHING. anyways... sorry i just had to get that out there!!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

The air feels thick around you as you weave through the crowded beach, trying to keep your gaze anywhere but on Rafe. His laugh, louder than it needs to be, cuts through the noise of the party, and you can’t help but notice Sofia wrapped around him.

She leans into his touch, her smile bright as his hands roam casually over her waist, like he used to do with you. You catch a glimpse of them, Rafe pulling her closer, his lips moving to hers in a display meant for everyone, but especially for you. You look away, forcing yourself to focus on the bonfire, the drinks, anything. But it’s impossible to ignore the magnetic pull. It’s like he’s everywhere at once, the weight of his stare pressing into you even though his attention should be elsewhere.

And maybe it is—his lips are on her—but his eyes, whenever you risk a glance, are always searching for you.

You tighten your grip around your drink, jaw clenched against the swirl of emotions building in your chest. Each stolen glance at Rafe pulls at something deep inside you, but you refuse to let it show. The heat of the bonfire warms your skin, the crackling flames a welcome distraction as you will yourself to block out the image of him with her.

The party hums around you, but all you can hear is his laughter—so familiar, yet distant, like he’s a world away, even though he’s right there.

But before the thoughts can spiral further, someone steps into your line of sight, blocking the view you’ve been pretending not to care about. You blink up, surprised to see a guy you vaguely recognize from around town, his easy smile and tousled brown hair a stark contrast to the tension thrumming inside you.

“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth, the kind that carries well over the music. “You looked like you could use some company.”

You offer him a half-smile, more out of politeness than genuine interest, but something in you shifts—an instinct, maybe, to distract yourself, to prove to yourself that you’re fine. If Rafe can move, so can you. So, you shrug, meeting his gaze for longer than you have with anyone all night.

“Maybe I do,” you reply, your voice light despite the ache still gnawing at the back of your mind.

He steps closer, leaning casually on the railing next to you. “Name’s Tyler. You’ve been to these parties before, right?”

You nod, taking a sip of your drink, your eyes drifting briefly toward where Rafe stands before snapping back to Tyler. He follows your gaze but doesn’t comment on it. “Yeah, once or twice,” you say, playing along.

Tyler’s grin widens, sensing an opening. “Let me guess, you’re not a fan of the scene? You don’t seem like the type to be into the chaos.”

You laugh softly, surprising yourself. “Not usually,” you admit, swirling your drink. “But it’s better than staying home.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he says, his eyes roaming over your face, lingering a second longer than necessary. “But I’ve gotta say, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

There’s a warmth in his words, a casual flirtation that makes it easy to forget the lingering tension in your chest. You tilt your head, giving him a look you haven’t given anyone in a while—playful, even if only for the moment. “And why’s that?”

His smile turns a bit more mischievous as he leans in, lowering his voice. “Because I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you.”

You feel a small spark of satisfaction flare inside, the kind that comes from knowing you’re being noticed, admired, even if it’s fleeting. You toy with the edge of your cup, glancing up at him beneath your lashes. “Well, aren’t you charming.”

Tyler laughs, a low, easy sound that feels like a balm against the tension in your mind. “Just telling the truth,” he says, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm as he gestures toward the fire. “Want to grab a seat by the bonfire? I’d hate for you to be stuck standing here all night.”

You hesitate for a second, glancing toward the beach where Rafe and Sofia are still tangled in each other. But the sight no longer stings as much—it’s dulled, replaced by a sudden urge to push back, to be seen with someone else, just as he’s parading her around. It’s petty, you know that. But right now, you don’t care.

“Sure,” you say, offering Tyler a real smile this time, one that lights up your eyes. “Why not?”

As the two of you make your way to the fire, you can feel Rafe’s eyes on you, burning hotter than the flames, but you don’t look back. Not yet. You settle onto one of the logs beside Tyler, letting his easy conversation and light touches distract you, pretending for a moment that you don’t feel the weight of Rafe’s gaze following your every move.

A few hours (and drinks) later, you find yourself leaning against Tyler’s car, his hands on your waist, lips trailing down your neck as the distant sounds of the party fade into the background. You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been out here, away from the noise, away from him. The warmth of the alcohol buzzes through you, making it easy to forget about the tension that had been gnawing at you all night.

Tyler’s mouth finds yours, and you lean into it, closing the gap between you. His kiss is heated but unhurried, his touch light on your skin, and for the first time tonight, you let yourself slip into the moment. The back of your mind, the part that’s always aware of Rafe, quiets—just for now. Tyler’s hands move down to your hips, pulling you closer, and you tilt your head, deepening the kiss as his fingers trace soft patterns over your waist.

For a few blissful seconds, you don’t think about Rafe at all. It’s just you, Tyler, and the cool night air pressing in around you. Tyler’s touch is comforting, a distraction, a way to escape the complicated mess of emotions Rafe always drags you into. And for the first time tonight, you don’t feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of what used to be.

Tyler breaks the kiss, his lips still brushing against yours as he grins. “You sure know how to make a guy’s night, sweetheart,” he teases, his voice low and breathy, pulling you in even further.

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Do I, really?” You reply, matching his grin, feeling the haze of everything slip further away.

Tyler’s hands tighten around your waist, his mouth once again capturing yours as you press against the cool metal of the car. His kisses are eager now, more insistent, and you match his energy, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. The taste of alcohol lingers between you, the sound of your breathing mingling with the distant crash of waves and faint music from the party you left behind.

You close your eyes, momentarily letting go of everything—of Rafe, of the tangled mess he left behind in your head. Tyler’s lips move against yours, and for just a second, you feel light. Free.

But then, everything shifts.

The tension in the air thickens in an instant, and you sense it before you even open your eyes. A sudden presence, looming and charged, like a storm about to break. When you finally pull back from Tyler and glance up, your heart stumbles in your chest.

Rafe stands a few feet away, his expression dark—dangerously dark. His eyes lock onto yours first, blazing with an anger so intense it makes your stomach flip. Then his gaze flicks to Tyler, and you can practically feel the rage rolling off him in waves.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe’s voice is low, almost a growl, but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

Tyler, oblivious to the storm he’s just walked into, straightens up, his arm still loosely around your waist. “Relax, man,” he says, trying to sound casual, though there’s a note of uncertainty in his voice. “We were just—”

Rafe doesn’t let him finish. He takes a step closer, fists clenched at his sides, his whole body vibrating with barely-contained fury. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he spits, his eyes still fixed on you. But then his gaze cuts back to Tyler, and something dangerous flashes there. “But if you don’t get your hands off her right now, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Tyler scoffs, dropping his arm but not backing down. “What’s your deal, Cameron? She’s not your girl anymore.”

Those words are like a lit match thrown into a gasoline fire.

In an instant, Rafe’s on him, shoving Tyler hard against the side of the car. “What did you just say?” Rafe’s voice is low and menacing, his face inches from Tyler’s. His fists are white-knuckled, trembling with the need to unleash the anger bottled up inside him. “You think you can just put your hands on her like that?”

Tyler stumbles, but he manages to push back, his hands coming up defensively. “Chill, man! It’s not that serious!”

But it is. For Rafe, it’s everything.

You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, in the wild, desperate look in his eyes as they flicker between you and Tyler. He’s spiraling, and you know this side of him all too well—the part that lashes out, that destroys when he feels like he’s losing control.

“Rafe, stop,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended, cutting through the haze of tension. You step forward, placing yourself between him and Tyler, your hand pressing against Rafe’s chest. His muscles are taut beneath your touch, coiled and ready to explode. “This isn’t worth it.”

For a moment, Rafe doesn’t move. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, his eyes locked on yours, searching, desperate for something he can’t find. He looks down at your hand on his chest, and for a second, you think he might back down.

But then he shakes his head, his voice tight with frustration. “What’s your fucking problem?” he snaps, his words aimed at you now. “Do you not miss me? Is this how you move on?”

You flinch, taken aback by the raw vulnerability buried beneath his anger. His words hit harder than any shove, cutting through the defenses you’ve been trying to build all night. You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat.

Rafe’s hands grip your arms suddenly, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to hold you in place. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching, the anger faltering for a split second as something else flickers there—something almost like hurt. “Tell me,” he demands, his voice quieter now, but no less desperate. “Tell me you don’t miss me.”

Rafe's grip tightens for a fraction of a second, his eyes still locked on yours, searching for something, anything, that will ease the storm raging inside him. His question lingers between you, thick and heavy, but you can’t answer him, not here, not like this. Tyler, still lingering nearby, lets out an irritated scoff, but there’s a tremor in it. He knows better than to challenge Rafe further—everyone does.

You feel Rafe’s breath against your skin, shallow and ragged, as if he's waiting for the moment you confirm his worst fears. But instead of answering him, you take a deep breath, your hand brushing over his chest. “Come on,” you murmur, voice softer now, low enough that only he can hear. “Let’s go.”

For a brief moment, Rafe hesitates, his gaze flickering toward Tyler, like he’s still deciding whether to throw another punch. But your hand slides down, gently tugging at his arm, and his attention snaps back to you. Slowly, his grip loosens.

Tyler, sensing the shift, straightens up but keeps his distance, his bravado from earlier slipping away as he watches you lead Rafe toward the beach. “Whatever, man,” Tyler mutters, though his voice wavers, betraying the fear he's been masking. “You two deserve each other.”

You don’t even look back at him, and Rafe doesn’t either. His focus is entirely on you now, the tension between his clenched jaw and the way he follows your lead without protest. Tyler slinks off, disappearing into the crowd as if he’s suddenly remembered who he’s dealing with.

As you walk further from the party, the sounds of the bonfire and distant music grow fainter, leaving only the soft rush of the waves and the cool breeze whipping against your skin. Rafe’s fingers brush against your hand, and though the anger in him hasn’t fully burned out, his pace slows as the two of you near the shore.

The silence between you is heavy, electric. You can feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing down, the tension thick enough to suffocate. His frustration, his desperation—it’s all still there, simmering beneath the surface. But now, without an audience, without the pretense of Tyler or Sofia, it feels rawer, more exposed.

Rafe stops just shy of the water, his grip on you tightening again, though not out of anger this time. It’s almost as if he’s holding onto you for stability, for some anchor to stop him from drowning in whatever dark place his mind has gone. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, his voice quiet, rough around the edges, but no longer carrying the rage that had consumed him moments before. “Why are you acting like you don’t care?”

You feel the words clawing at the back of your throat, the urge to lash out or deflect, but the vulnerability in his eyes makes it impossible. Instead, you stand there, caught between the pull of the past and the mess of emotions swirling around you now.

It’s all too complicated, and yet somehow, painfully simple. You’ve never stopped caring. But Rafe… Rafe has always made things more difficult than they needed to be.

Rafe’s question lingers in the salty night air, hanging between you like a taut string waiting to snap. His eyes search your face for something—an answer, an apology, anything to make sense of the confusion brewing in his mind. But you’re not ready to give him what he wants. Not yet, at least.

The sound of the ocean crashing against the shore fills the silence between you, your pulse racing in time with the waves. You look away, focusing on the dark horizon, your toes sinking into the cool sand as you try to gather your thoughts. Why are you doing this? The question echoes in your mind, but it’s not as simple as Rafe seems to think.

Maybe it’s because you’re tired—tired of feeling like he’s pulling the strings, tired of the toxic push and pull of your relationship. Maybe you’re doing it because it hurts too much to care about someone who only seems to care when you’re slipping away. Or maybe it’s because, deep down, you know that no matter how hard he tries to provoke you, to force a reaction, the person who’s really hurting is him.

You glance at him, and for the first time in a while, you let yourself really look. His eyes are still wild with anger, but there’s something else there too—something that cracks through the hard shell he’s built around himself. His chest rises and falls unevenly, his breathing ragged from the tension that’s been gripping him since the moment he saw you with Tyler. His hands, though no longer tight on your arms, still linger, as if afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go entirely.

“I’m not acting like I don’t care,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended. There’s a vulnerability in the admission that makes your stomach twist, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “I just… I can’t do this with you, Rafe. Not like this.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, his brows furrowing, but then he hesitates, the frustration flickering in his eyes giving way to something closer to desperation. “Then how?” His voice is quieter now, too, though it’s laced with an edge of exasperation. “Tell me how, because I don’t know what to do anymore.”

You almost laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the ache in your chest keeps you from it. He doesn’t know what to do? The guy who’s spent the entire night trying to make you jealous, parading Sofia around like some twisted declaration of victory, now stands in front of you, unsure, vulnerable.

But this is Rafe Cameron. The boy who hides his insecurities behind anger and control. The boy who pushes you away just to pull you back in, like some sick game where neither of you ever really wins.

“You think this is all my fault?” you ask, taking a step back, breaking the physical connection between you. His hands fall away, and though his body stays rooted in place, his expression twists as if the loss of contact has left him exposed. “You think you can just act like that all night, throw Sofia in my face, and I’m supposed to be okay with it?”

Rafe winces at your words, and for a moment, he looks away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I wasn’t trying to—” He stops, gritting his teeth, clearly wrestling with what to say. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Right,” you mutter, folding your arms over your chest, the bitterness in your tone impossible to hide. “Because trying to hurt me is the only way you know how to get my attention?”

He stares at you, his lips parting like he wants to protest, but nothing comes out. Instead, he clenches his jaw and looks down, the anger draining from his posture, leaving behind only exhaustion. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says finally, so quietly you almost don’t hear him over the waves. “I just… I didn’t know how to make you miss me. I don’t know how to do this without screwing it up.”

The confession hits you harder than you expect, a crack in the armor he’s always so careful to maintain. It’s the first time all night he’s shown you anything real, anything beyond the bluster and anger he uses to shield himself. And it leaves you speechless.

Rafe lets out a frustrated breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he stares down at the sand, avoiding your gaze. “I know I’m not… good at this. At us.” His voice wavers slightly, like admitting it is a betrayal of the tough, unshakable image he’s spent his whole life building. “But I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else. Especially not him.”

There it is. The raw, vulnerable truth buried beneath layers of anger and bravado. The truth you’ve always known but never heard him admit out loud.

You swallow hard, feeling the sting of his words settle into the hollow ache in your chest. “Rafe… I can’t keep doing this. The fighting, the jealousy—it’s too much.” Your voice cracks, and you hate how exposed you feel saying it out loud. But it needs to be said.

His eyes snap back to yours, wide and frantic, as if he’s afraid you’re slipping through his fingers. “I’ll stop,” he blurts out, stepping closer, the desperation back in his voice. “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t—don’t walk away.”

You bite your lip, torn between the part of you that wants to believe him and the part of you that knows it’s not that simple. He’s said things like this before, made promises in moments of weakness, only to fall back into old patterns when the anger returns. But this time, there’s something different in his eyes—a genuine fear that this might really be it.

“I don’t know if you can stop, Rafe,” you say quietly, the honesty of your words hanging heavy between you. “You’re always so angry… and I can’t be the one trying to fix it every time.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he absorbs what you’ve said. But then, to your surprise, he nods, his expression shifting from desperation to something more resigned. “You’re right,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I am angry. But not at you.”

You blink, taken aback by the admission. It’s the first time he’s ever acknowledged that the rage he carries isn’t about you—not really. It’s always been deeper than that, rooted in things he’s never fully let you in on.

“So what then?” you ask, your tone softer now, more searching. “What are you so angry about?”

Rafe looks away again, his jaw clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back. But then he sighs, running both hands through his hair in a gesture that screams frustration. “Everything,” he mutters, his voice rough. “My family, my life… I don’t know. I don’t know how to fix it.”

You watch him, your heart aching at the sight of him so lost, so broken. For a moment, all the frustration you’ve felt toward him melts away, replaced by the familiar ache of wanting to help him, to fix what’s been broken between you.

But you know that’s not your job. It never was.

Rafe’s confession hangs in the air, weighty and raw, his vulnerability exposed in a way that catches you off guard. For a moment, all the anger and frustration that has built up between you feels insignificant. The walls he keeps so tightly guarded have crumbled, and in their place, there's a boy you recognize—a boy desperate for something solid in a world that’s been spiraling out of control.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach out, brushing your fingers against his arm. His breath hitches at the contact, and slowly, his gaze finds yours again. His eyes are dark, a mix of anger, longing, and something deeper, something that’s always been there but never fully spoken between you two.

“I’m not walking away,” you murmur, barely able to find your voice as the tension between you thickens. “I’m still here, Rafe. But you need to figure out what you want… and stop trying to hurt me to get there.”

His expression softens at your words, the desperation giving way to a flicker of hope. For a moment, he just stares at you, his lips parted like he’s trying to say something, but no words come. Instead, he steps closer, his hands brushing your waist, hesitant, as if testing the boundaries between you.

“Tell me what to do,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how to fix this.”

The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and despite everything—despite the anger, the games, the toxic cycle—you find yourself leaning into him. The truth is, you don’t have all the answers. You never have. But standing this close to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body, you know one thing for certain—you miss him. As much as you’ve tried to push him away, you can’t deny the pull that’s always been there, the magnetic connection between you.

“You start by being honest with me,” you say quietly, your fingers finding their way to the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric as if anchoring yourself. “No more games, Rafe.”

He nods, swallowing hard as his hands slide up your waist, pulling you closer, the space between you shrinking with each passing second. “I’ll be honest,” he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin, sending a rush of heat through your body. “I’m done with the games, baby.”

Before you can respond, his lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s desperate and hungry, all the frustration and longing pouring into the contact. It’s not gentle; it’s raw and unfiltered, like he’s been holding back for too long, and now that he has you, he can’t stop himself.

You gasp against his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you kiss him back just as fiercely. The world around you blurs into nothingness—the sound of the waves, the distant party—it all fades away until the only thing that exists is him. His hands roam your body, gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, and you melt into him, the heat between you building with every passing second.

He pulls you even closer, his body pressing against yours as his lips move with a kind of desperation that makes your heart race. It's overwhelming, the way he kisses you, the way he holds you like you're the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. You feel the intensity of everything he's been holding back—the anger, the pain, the desire—and it ignites something deep within you.

You break the kiss, gasping for air, but he doesn’t let you pull away for long. His lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your throat, and you can’t stop the soft moan that escapes your lips. His name tumbles from your mouth in a breathless whisper, and you feel him tense against you, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and hoarse as his hands slide under your shirt, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

Your heart stutters at his words, the sincerity in his voice taking you off guard. It’s not just the physical connection that’s pulling you back in—it’s the raw emotion behind it, the way he’s finally letting you see the side of him he’s been hiding for so long.

And then, somehow, you find yourself back in parking lot, against his car. His lips never leave yours, his kiss hungry and desperate.

“Rafe…” You barely manage to get his name out as he lifts you slightly, pushing you against the side of his car, his body pressing you firmly against the cool metal. His lips find yours again, and this time the kiss is slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring the taste of you.

Your mind spins, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—the way he touches you, the way he kisses you like he’s afraid this might be the last time. There's a desperation in the way he clings to you, like he's trying to make up for every moment he's hurt you, every second he's pushed you away.

Rafe’s hands grip your hips as he pulls you tighter against him, his touch searing through the thin fabric of your shirt. The way his body presses into yours is almost suffocating, but in a way that you crave, like you’ve been starved for this kind of contact for too long. His lips move against yours with a mixture of urgency and tenderness, a contrast that leaves you dizzy, struggling to catch your breath.

Every kiss feels like a question, as if he’s asking for more, for you to let him in completely again. And you want to. Despite all the games, all the hurt, there’s something undeniable about being with him—something that makes your heart race in ways you haven’t felt since the beginning.

You can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten as his hands slide up your back, his fingertips grazing the bare skin just under the hem of your shirt. It’s almost like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you, as if this is his last chance to make things right.

His lips leave yours for just a moment, trailing down your jaw and finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. You shiver as his hot breath fans against your skin, your body reacting instinctively to his every move. His name falls from your lips in a breathless whisper, and you feel him pause, his breath hitching at the sound.

You feel his hand reach for the door behind you, opening it before he practically threw you into the backseat. Rafe climbs on top of you, and his lips are on yours again. You moan at the contact, your head falling back into the cool leather of his backseat. God, how you missed those cushions.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice rough with emotion, barely holding himself together. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, and you feel his desperation in every touch, in every kiss that follows. It’s not just physical—there’s a vulnerability there, a need that goes far deeper than the surface.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize what he’s truly saying. This isn’t just about the heat of the moment or the chemistry that’s always drawn you two together. It’s about him finally letting you see past the walls he’s built—past the anger, the bravado, and the façade he shows everyone else.

You tilt your head back, giving him more access as his lips move lower, trailing down your collarbone, and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. The world around you seems to blur, the distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the soft hum of the party fading into the background until all that’s left is the two of you, tangled together in the dim glow of the night.

He leans back slightly and all you could hear in the darkness of the night was the clink of his belt, and a shiver went down your spine as you think about what's coming. You almost immediately slip out of your shorts as you slid back, giving yourself enough room to spread out before Rafe is in between your legs.

You can make out his face in the darkness, the faint moonlight casting shadows across his sharp features, highlighting the tension in his jaw. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes that have always had a way of making you feel seen—and sometimes too exposed—are locked on you, and it makes your heart (and pussy) beat faster.

“Rafe,” you breathe, your voice barely audible as his lips return to yours in a searing kiss. It’s slow this time, deliberate, as if he’s savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands slide up your sides, taking the edge of your shirt with them, and your breath hitches as you feel the cool night air against your skin.

Then, you feel his warm tip against your thigh. Never leaving your lips, Rafe slowly leans his cock right into your sopping pussy. You let out a soft moan, the feeling of being filled up by his cock again making your head spin with pure bliss.

“Oh, shit,” he draws out as his head falls back, the feeling of your warm cunt overwhelming. “God I missed you, pretty baby.”

And it feels like time has stopped, like the only thing that matters is the heat between you, the way your bodies fit together perfectly, like this is where you’re meant to be. His hands roam over your back, your sides, exploring with a kind of urgency that makes your pulse quicken as he pushes in deeper into your pussy.

It hurts, at first until he bottoms you out. He's still for a moment as he leans his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy. After he felt you tighten around him, he instantly pulled your hips before he began thrusting in and out of you slowly, as if he was warming up.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out as your hands find his shoulders. Your breath comes out in short, ragged gasps as you cling to him, your body responding to his in ways that are both familiar and intoxicatingly new.

He's fucking into you at this point, his own grunts echoing in the empty car. You could feel the windows begin to fog up as his thrusts become more sharp, more meaningful. It’s overwhelming, the intensity of it all, but you can’t stop yourself—you don’t want to. You’ve missed this, missed him, even if you won’t admit it out loud.

At the sound of your cries of pleasure, Rafe chuckles breathless. “Oh, yeah? You like that?”

All you could do was nod as he begins increasing the speed of his thrusts, he was rocking into you with brute force but he was still gentle, somehow. His hands reach up to find your throat, holding it as he fucks into you harder. Rafe lifts your hips a little more so that he could reach that sweet spot, and you knew it was over.

“Rafe, fuck!” You cry as your head falls back into the cushion, your mouth slightly open and your eyes rolling back in your head. You're shaking, at this point—you're not holding back whatsoever.

Anyone who was walking by his car could probably see and hear what's happening, and probably think he was murdering you. And they were right, he was absolutely obliterating your insides. But you didn't care, and neither did Rafe.

His breathing is heavy, matching the erratic rhythm of his hips, and he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours. His scent—a mix of saltwater, cologne, and something distinctly him—invades your senses, grounding you in the moment, making everything else disappear.

“Oh, my god I'm gonna—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, the tight knot in your stomach snaps and it feels like everything is still for a moment. You can't even hear yourself anymore, it feels like you were on a cloud as you cum around his cock.

A few more deep thrusts and he was spilling inside you, his own body shaking above you. His lips find yours in a sloppy and desperate kiss, his hips keeping you placed right beneath him. He doesn't pull out—no, he wouldn't even dare. He doesn't want to. Not yet, of course. You both just lay in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

“I missed you,” he finally whispers, his voice rough and edged with something almost like pain. His fingers tighten around your waist, as though he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning, and your heart stutters at the vulnerability laced in them.

For a moment, neither of you moves. His breath is warm against your skin, his presence overwhelming but somehow comforting, like a weight you didn’t know you needed. You want to say something, to respond, but the words get caught in your throat, tangled up in the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to consume you.

Instead, you reach up, your fingers grazing his jawline, feeling the stubble under your fingertips. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes—an acknowledgment of what you both know but can’t yet fully voice. His eyes close at the contact, and for a split second, the tension melts away, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

Then his lips are on yours again, but this time it’s different. It’s slower, more deliberate, like he’s savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands trail up your sides, pulling you impossibly closer, and your body responds in kind, the need for him growing stronger with every kiss.

You lose yourself in the feeling of him—how perfect he feels when he's inside of you, the heat of his skin, the way his fingers trace patterns along your back. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you in the darkness, tangled together in a way that feels both new and familiar at the same time.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, everything else fades away. The jealousy, the anger, the hurt—it all dissolves into the background, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, caught in a moment that you know you won’t soon forget.

You’ve been through hell with Rafe, and maybe there’s more waiting ahead, but right now, none of that matters. Right now, all you can think about is him—the way he touches you, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, the only thing that’s real.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[mxstellatayte]

Thoughts on if the drivers would use toys ( and what kind) on themselves and their partners?

ok i could only come up with a mtl for this one so here we goooooooo!

nsfw under the cut <3 minors please do not interact!

🧡lando norris

oh my god this man is SUCH A WHOREEE. he's actually the first person to bring it up in your relationship, and he doesn't so much bring it up as it brings itself up. the two of you and some other drivers and their partners are out after monaco, and something seems off about him, but you don't realize exactly what it is until you're grinding your ass on him on the dance floor and he is very, very hard. when you ask what's going on, he can barely say it without moaning because every move of your hips against his, making his own move in turn, nudges the plug he'd put in before leaving just barely against his prostate. safe to say that later that night, lando was a whining mess, gripping the sheets and head thrown back while you fold him in half with the strap he'd bought a few weeks prior in hopes of this exact situation happening buried in his ass. (got a little carried away there OOPSIES)

🩶george russell

george is actually a bit of a wild card on this list. his preference for toys leans a bit more towards the pain and restraint side of them, but he doesn't mind the occasional plug or vibrator. his own kinks make their appearance when you run up to him after a good race, kiss him, and press your hands to his chest so he can set his hands on your hips the way he likes to. what you aren't expecting, though, is for the outside of your left hand to brush something hard and plastic and for george to *whimper* into the kiss. that slut had worn nipple clamps during the race. his personal favorite combination of toys is having his hands cuffed to the headboard, completely unable to fight you off as you have your merry way with him. (as long as he gets a pat on the head and a shoulder rub with his favorite body lotion and cuddles afterwards ofc <3)

🧡oscar piastri

oscar is the flip of a coin. he's more than happy to quickly tie your wrists together with his tie if you're being a brat at an event or take his time lacing together a beautiful, intricate shibari harness to keep you in place while he uses your mouth to get himself off. when he takes the time for shibari, he'll take a lot of photos of you, maybe even a few videos to use later when he's halfway across the globe. as for toys on himself, he mainly only goes for a simple fleshlight (or lando). surprisingly, one thing he enjoys is laying back blindfolded and letting you have your way with him, as long as you aren't too mean.

🩶lewis hamilton

lewis has a very "if you're down, i'm down" attitude about most things when it comes to sex. as long as the two of you are comfortable and enjoying it, he's game on for a lot of stuff! his hard nos when it comes to toys on himself and his partner are anything that could potentially put one of you in danger or anything even vaguely involving animals. the first time you two really start exploring the world of sex toys of all sorts, he's constantly checking in with you, making sure you're feeling good, and if you tap out at any point, the aftercare is amazing bc he feels bad </3

🩵logan sargeant

oh this man LOVES fucking and getting fucked, and if there's toys involved, he's even happier. i can imagine him sending you a new toy when a big event happens that he can't be there for, and, to make up for it, he buys it for you so that you can fuck over the phone that night. he absolutely loves watching you fuck yourself with anything- your fingers, a toy, even using him to get yourself off is hot as hell to him. i also can't get the thought of him tied up in shibari with a ball gag in his mouth as you tease the fuck out of him, fucking his ass with a dildo that might be bordering on too big and jerking him off slowly at the same time (bonus points if it's in front of a mirror so he can see what a mess of himself he's making 🫣)

💙daniel ricciardo

the first time you bring up the idea of toys with danny, youre both high on the beach outside cancun over winter break, talking about all the random things two high adults talk about, and the topic of him eating you out feels. you passingly mention how much you love it when he moans while he's attached to your clit, and the idea of getting you a vibrator sparks in his mind. when you're in bed that night, the high long gone, he asks you just that, and you're so close to sleep that, when you wake up the next morning, you aren't sure if you remember what happened properly the previous night. you did, in fact, remember correctly, and when you get back to australia, there's a package laying on your bed. "happy late christmas baby xx -danny" inside is a baby pink suction vibrator that you cum with three times, saving a voice memo and texting it to him after you're done catching your breath.

💛charles leclerc

this goes without saying, but charles is more than happy to spend hours between your legs if he could. he's such a pleasure dom that sometimes you have to pull him away from your clit by his hair, and fuck if that sight alone doesn't prep you for another hour of his tongue ravishing you, you don't know what will. his cheeks, lips, chin, even the tip of his nose are shiny with a mix of your cum and his saliva, his pupils are wide and his mouth hangs open, breath heavy and fanning against you so perfectly. when you being up the idea of using toys, he's over the moon. when he finds out the toys you had in mind are ones you can wear to ferrari events under your dress, the remote hiding perfectly in the pocket of his pants? shit, he's on neptune.

🩵alex albon

what is it with the williams drivers being sub leaning? alex is similar to lewis in having the "if you're down, i'm down" attitude, and he's just as focused on his partner's pleasure as he is his own. he's the first to bring it up in the relationship, asking (very very shyly) if you'd maybe possibly under no pressure whatsoever be willing to try pegging him, and when his eyes light up when you agree, you have a feeling toys are going to start being a semi-regular addition to your sex life. on the occasion that neither of you have any (or you simply don't have the time or effort), alex is more than willing to have you ride him or fuck you himself, because i do think that, if teased enough, alex will top purely out of spite.

💙yuki tsunkda

yuki's idea of toys is much more unconventional. it could be your pillow when the two of you are fucking over the phone, the armrest of the couch in his driver's room, or your favorite dildo or vibrator. he's honestly kinda cool with most stuff, as long as it makes you feel good and is safe. as for himself, his favorite is a cock ring around him while you ride him, so that way you're both getting the best of it while he can still hold on to your tits :D he also tied your wrists together one time with a ribbon from the gift he got you for your two year anniversary and he still keeps the ribbon in his nightstand to remind him of you on nights when he's especially lonely.

❤️max verstappen

really, really prefers to fuck you himself in whatever way he can. whether he's fucking you into the mattress with his dick or sending you to heaven with his tongue and fingers or making you ride his thigh because you were being a little brat, he just loves the feeling of your skin on his. if you're being especially bratty, though, he will not hesitate to make you fuck yourself but of course you won't get to cum... why would he let you do that when you've been a brat? no, it's nearing overstimulation and tears running down your face begging for him to let you cum from the toy before he even considers giving you the release of fucking you himself.

🩷pierre gasly

pierre is a fluffy little fluff boy. just. the actual sweetest in bed. he prefers to be able to feel you himself rather than adding a toy to the mix, but if you're just really, really turned on while you're not around and feel like messing with him you'll send him a video of you fucking yourself with your favorite toy and it gets him so riled up he has to stop whatever he's doing and run to the motorhome so he can deal with his boner lol

💛carlos sainz

carlos is a very hands-on guy. he doesn't really go for dedicated toys per se, leaning more towards shoving your panties in your mouth or tying your wrists together with his tie. sometimes he doesn't even need that, though- sometimes his hand is more than enough to cover your mouth or hold your wrists together if there's no other option.

🤍nico hülkenberg

like carlos, he's very hands-on with you. the only real "toys" he uses with you are blindfolds and ribbons to hold your wrists in place. one time, he tried handcuffing you to the bed but seeing the marks on your wrists scared him so he threw them away after that :((

drivers i think just wouldn't be into toys very much, if at all:

valtteri bottas, fernando alonso, zhou guanyu

intentionally excluded: checo, lance, kmag, ocon

[reidssluttywaist]

Spencer's lap.

In which you grind against your boyfriend.

fem!reader, season 2 Spencer, +16.

tags: dry humping, a little bit of dirtytalk.

a/n: guys this is so bad I've never written smut before but i had this idea while rewatching season 2 and tried something, this must have a bunch of mistakes and it's not proofread at all, also if anyone wants to rewrite this better please message me lol.

You never thought you'd have to sit for a physics class ever again since you left high school, and here you are, a half hour into your boyfriend explaining very throughly to you how he can make a rocket with 'physics magic', he also made you swear you would never tell his tricks to anybody, 'cause a magician never shares his secrets, right?!

Except you didn't get sleepy like you did in high school, you never paid that much attention to physics since now, the way Spencer's smile explains every detail, the giggle he lets out as he rumbles about different facts of all the physics laws, you're amazed by how happy he is, how his brain is extraordinary.

Hearing his humbles is better than any music you could think of, and paired with the soft sound of the rain falling outside Spencer's place, you feel so cozy and safe.

You and Spencer have been together for a couple of months now, he is your first real boyfriend, both of you are inexperienced in every single part of being in a relationship, sometimes the feeling of love you feel towards him overwhelms you, almost leaving you out of breath, you can't believe how good it is to love somebody, how god it is to love Spencer.

"Wow, that one might be your best! Look how high it went" you said after his most recent "rocket" made its way to the ceiling, Spencer smiling so big and laughing, making you laugh as well.

"Did you see that? I think I've perfected my measurements it's so high!!" Spencer says with a high-pitched voice, too excited to contain himself.

"The only bad thing about this is that you have to clean this mess up" You make a sad face, looking at the place that has little bits of water splashed all over.

"Nah, it's fine! It'll dry out soon enough" he says pretending that he doesn't care about the mess, except he does.

"C'mon, I'll help you clean and make us some dinner after, ok?!" You get up from your side of the couch, and hold Spencer's hand, trying to pull him up.

"I don't wanna get up now, it can wait," He says seriously, you can almost believe him.

You try pushing him up again, but this time he pulls you against him, being more successful than you do you end up falling onto him, sitting on his lap facing him.

"I said it can wait, I can clean up later, ok? I wanna spend some time with you now." He said holding your waist and looking at you.

You've never been on his lap before, you guys make out now and then, but never in that suggestive of a position, and Spencer never makes the first move like that, you feel your stomach filling with butterflies.

"You look so good with your glasses on" You blurt it out looking at him, analyzing his face as he looks at you.

"Can I kiss you?" Spencer says, you don't need words to respond as you press your lips onto his, starting a gentle kiss.

You'll never get accustomed to kissing Spencer, his soft lips, he's so gentle almost like he's afraid you'll run away if he makes any sudden moves, little does he know you won't, you'd never run away from him you feel like you could never get enough from him.

The kiss was now way more intense, your tongue exploring his, his grip on your waist a lot tighter now, one of his hands let go of your waist and made its way to the back of your neck, making you let out a soft moan into Spencer's mouth, making his body shiver under you.

Your hips start slightly moving over Spencer's thigh, the light friction making you want more.

Spencer was breathing heavily, and you could also feel him growing against your leg, he pulled you harder against him, adjusting your cunt to be right on top of his cock, applying pressure to your hips, you moan again, and you could feel yourself get wetter by the second.

"Spence, wanna feel you." You say in between kisses, making him whimper and push you harder against him.

"Fuck" he swears under his breath, both of his hands going to the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing. "That okay?" he asks.

"Yes, please." You've never agreed to something so fast in your life, helping him take your pants away, after a few seconds of struggling you were back to kissing him like your life depended on it.

"C-can I take yours?" you whisper, almost scared to say it, he agrees by guiding your hand to his waistband, also helping you take his pants now, you were both only with underwear now, not even bothering to take your tops off, you went back to humping him, your thin underwear fabric soaked.

Spencer's shaky hands made their way onto your shirt, both of them massing your breasts, making noises come out of your mouth and the man under you groan.

"N-need more, Spence." You say grinding your hips harder against him, and bring your hands to his underwear pushing it down just enough so his cock is free.

You start to use your hands on him, slow up and down movements just enough so he can't even keep his eyes open.

"Want your pussy, please, wanna feel you" Spencer mumbles taking your hands off his cock, his hand going to your panties and ripping them out.

That made you gasp, making your pussy even more wet.

Spencer positioned you on his cock, which was resting on his stomach, you started moving your hips up and down, both of you moaning even louder now.

"You feel so warm, baby, you're so wet for me," He says, looking at where your bodies are rubbing against each other, he looks mesmerized by this sight, mouth slightly opened as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you shiver.

Spencer never dirty talked like that before, you could see the blush on his cheeks as he did, this new side of him making your mind blurry and a not start to form on your stomach.

"I'm so close," he says, biting his lips as you try to move even harder for him.

"N-eed more, please, your fingers," you say and he immediately knows what you mean, taking one of his hands out of your hips and bringing it to your pussy, his thumb finding your clit with ease, start moving it in circles making you let out a loud moan.

"Fuck" You let out, not able to keep your eyes open.

"Can you cum for me? Please baby wanna see your pretty face as you fuck yourself on me." Spencer says, that added with his movements in your clit make your mind fuzzy, you felt the heat on your stomach spread to your legs and your body starts to shake, releasing all the tension you were feeling.

"Oh, you're so pretty like that, so pretty when you cum for me," Spencer says, helping you ride out your climax, you were so sensitive by the recent orgasms but you started to move your hips harder and faster on Spencer's cock.

He bites his lips and you feel him grip your ass, his glasses were blurry and it was so hot that he didn't take him out.

He groaned when you felt his dick twit under you, you helped him through his orgasm, kissing him when you were both done, his hands when to your back caressing it, slowly moving up and down.

"That was so good" He whispers to you.

"A dirty talker, huh?! Who would've thought?" you joke, making him laugh.

"Most men are dirty talkers so it's not that uncommon" he rumbles.

He switched up to nerdy Spencer again, making you smile.

You spend a couple more minutes just talking before getting up, you make sure to point all that he must buy you a new pair of panties to pay for the one he ripped, he agrees, saying he would buy more than one because "you'll never know what might happen, right?"

[miley1442111]

accidents- r.cameron

----------------

----------------

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

summary: videos from the past resurface and it doesn't go well for your new relationship with rafe

warnings: kissing, toxic relationship, rafe is confused, cursing, drinking, suggestive mentions, mentions of rafe's addictions, mention of sobriety streak being broken, topper is an asshole, (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

----------------

Rafe slowly walked into your bedroom. He had no idea what he was doing there, and it scared him. God, why did Topper ever speak? None of this would’ve happened if he’d just kept his mouth shut. 

----------------

Three days earlier…

Rafe watched as you smiled at him across the crowded room. You were so beautiful, so radiant, so real, so his. Everyone knew you were Rafe Cameron’s girl, and in turn everyone knew Rafe was yours, even if you two hadn’t had ‘the conversation’ yet. Rafe wanted you more than anything, Rafe wanted you so much it had started to freak him out. He found himself being kinder, softer, and a lot more calm while he was around you, and even when he wasn’t around you. It felt good. Less people feared him. More people started to see him as a person, not this ‘unreal figure’ on the island. But Rafe was aware of what people said about you now that you two were together. He saw how some girls looked at you, he noticed how guys talked to you, and he always overheard people telling you that he fucked girls and tossed them to the side like they were nothing. He was just hoping that you wouldn’t listen.  

The last three months had been nice, the dates and the parties, but you were getting impatient. You wanted to be Rafe’s girlfriend, not just Rafe’s situationship. Rafe was great, despite the rumours from other people, and he was 5 months clean next week. He was a good guy, you knew that, and that’s what mattered to you. 

“Y/n!” Pope called you over as you scanned the beach for either Rafe or one of the pogues. He grabbed your hand and you ran with him, following as he led you to the outskirts of the party. It was a clear night and the stars were too pretty not to admire as you sat by the campfire beside your friends. Jokes were made, stories were told, and-

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice cut through the laughter and everyone’s heads turned. “I was wondering if we could talk?” His eyes were focused on you. This was awkward and uncomfortable for him. He had apologised, yes, but he was still hated by your friend group because of what he did to you and the rest of them. You’d gotten it the worst though, when he had stabbed you over the gold. You’d almost died. Granted, Rafe has apologised, but that was before you two started… whatever your relationship was, and you hadn’t brought it up since. You didn’t really want to considering the fact that when you two finally had sex, he’d see the scar on your lower right abdomen and know he caused it. It would break his heart. Rafe was a lot more sensitive than people thought and that's partly why you’d been putting off having sex. You knew he’d get upset. 

“Yeah sure,” you smiled, taking his hand and getting up, then turning back to the group. “I’ll be back in a few, ok?”

“Don’t lose her!” John B shouted. 

“Or we’ll kill you!” Jj added, a completely real threat as you chuckled. 

“He’s joking,” you assured an uneasy Rafe. 

“I’m not joking!” Jj shouted again. 

You both walked a little faster. 

“Umm ok so… how do I say this? Top- he’s totally drunk and I-I’m freaking out right now. H-he gave me a drink a-and I thought it was just sparkling water but it had v-vodka in it, a-and now my sober streak is gone and-” Rafe buried his face in your neck, tears spilling over as his panic reached concerning levels. 

“Baby, it’s ok,” you cooed. “It was just a sip, and it was only an accident. We can start again, you can start again. This was only a wobble,” you assured him, your hands rubbing his back as he cried into your shoulder. “Please don’t beat yourself or Topper overt this, we all make mistakes.”

He nodded as he sobbed into your neck, hearing your words. How was it that you could calm him down so instantly, so completely? It wasn’t fair. He’d needed you his whole life, and he only got you now? Bullshit. Well, he’d take what he could get. “I love you,” He whispered and you went rigid. 

Every bone heavy, every muscle tense, blood frozen. Holy shit. 

Rafe Cameron was in love with you. What were you supposed to do? Say it back? You weren’t sure your mouth would open. “Hey pogue?” Topper’s voice cut through the deafening silence and brought you back down to Earth. “What the fuck do you think he’s doing with you?” he chuckled, drink in his hand and a bitter tone in his voice. “He’s going to tell you all his problems, and then he’s going to tell you that he loves you, and then he’ll fuck you a few times, probably be the best fuck of your life, and kick you to the curb!” he laughed. “Rafe Cameron strikes again!” 

Check, and check. The sex was probably coming later. You felt used. 

“Topper what the fuck man?” Rafe turned drying his eyes. “Do you even know how I feel about her?” 

“Yes I do, I remember the words being ‘easy’, ‘sweet’, and ‘virgin’. I still have the video,” Topper pulled out his video,scrolling for a moment as your heart slowly cracked. 

“What about her?” Topper had pointed at you in the video, it was at some party a few months ago. “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“She’s sweet and easy Top, come on, give me a challenge and someone who isn’t a virgin fucking prude,” Rafe laughed and the video continued of them rating girls from the island. 

God, you hated Topper right now. You hated Rafe right now. 

“Oh,” was all you got out before you started walking off, Rafe on your tail. 

“Look I-I’m sorry alright? I didn’t think about it, I didn’t even know you then! And I was drunk and Topper always brings out the worst in me, o-ok? So we can just go back t-to normal, right? You’ll be my girlfriend?” he pleaded but you kept walking, your heart shattering as he kept talking. “I love you!” 

You stopped in your tracks. “I just need… time, ok? Just give me a few days to work this out, ok?”

He nodded, tears pooling in his eyes. 

What the fuck were you going to do?

----------------

“Hey,” he sat down beside you. “I’m so sorry about what I said.”

“It’s ok Rafe,” you shrugged. “Maybe sometimes people just aren’t meant to be.”

His head whipped around to make eye contact with you. Seriously? You were seriously thinking of leaving him? “What?” He whispered, the lump in his throat almost too big to swallow. 

“Rafe… come on. How am I supposed to have any peace of mind in your actual intentions when it stemmed from that video?” You sighed. Rafe was busy staring at admiring you. You were so beautiful, so smart, so… everything he wanted. 

You didn’t think it would hurt him. He’d broken up with tons of girls, you shouldn't be any different. 

You watched as a tear escaped his eye, how he bit the side of his cheek, and how he picked at the skin on his fingers. 

Oh. 

Maybe he did care. Or maybe it was an act. You weren’t sure. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “I meant that when I said it. And Topper’s wrong, I don’t just tell girls I love them. I’ve never told anyone that. Just you.”

Your breath hitched and you took his hand to stop him from picking until it bled. “Calm down Rafe,” you whispered. “It’s ok.”

If being near you calmed him down, having you touch him must’ve been the most soothing and tranquil experience of his life. “Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, tears falling. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, I love you and I-I can’t lose you. Please let me make it up to you, I’ll be better for you, I swear-”

“I’m not leaving you,” you whispered, making a split-second decision you weren’t sure you’d regret. “I love you too Rafe.”

He looked up and you wiped some tears away. He smiled, then pulled you into his arms and kissed you softly. You loved being like this, kissing him, holding him, being with him. It was all perfect. His hand brushed your waist and lingered over the scar. He pulled away, sighing and scared, then pulled your shirt up slightly. 

Rafe wanted to sob the second he saw it. He loved you, all of you, so he needed to see it and get over it himself. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, staring at it. “I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “People grow, Rafe. People change. It hurt, yes, but I survived. You survived. Life isn’t going to stop just because we’re upset about something, so don’t feel… held back by the past. I’ve accepted it, and you need to as well.”

He pressed his lips to yours again, and smiled for the first time in three days.

----------------

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[lovedrruunk]

'Girl next door જ⁀➴♡ Prologue

In which Joel plays cupid in order to help a hopeless Ellie win over the cute girl next door.

Series Masterlist!

"Ain't lesbians s'pposed to date girls?"

not proof read :P

[silly awkward Ellie Williams x fem reader!]

"How 'bout the Johnson's daughter? I heard she was um... sapphic... Is that the right term...?"

"God you're so bad at this!"

Ellie rolled her eyes as she continued to play with her food at the dinner table. For the past couple of weeks, Joel had been slowly encouraging Ellie to 'put herself out there,' whatever that meant. And so with the recent news of her two best friends becoming a thing, he'd only gotten more relentless. It's not like she didn't want a girlfriend; it was just complicated and definitely a lot harder than Joel thought it was. Jackson was a small town, and finding someone who clicked with her, who understood her, felt almost impossible.

"I'm just saying Ellie" he continued "She's smart, she's nice, and from what I heard she likes girls. Seems like a good match to me."

Ellie sighed stabbing a piece of broccoli with her fork. "It's not that simple Joel. You can't just put two lesbians in a room together and expect fireworks."

There was a short silence before Ellie looked up to see Joel furrowing his eyebrows looking at the wall behind her seemingly lost.

"Oh my god, Joel!"

"I mean c'mon are ya sure?" He said defensively. "That is how it usually seems to go."

"Ok- well- not all the time! Anyway that's not the point... Besides, she's barely gay. She only kisses girls as a party trick." Ellie murmurs looking back down at her food.

"Off the list." He mutters to himself just as quietly as he continues to eat.

"Not that I am endorsing this but just who else is on this 'list'?"

"Tracy, Mai, Cat, Y/N, Monet-"

"Y/N?"

"Y/N."

"There's no way she's into girls." She says unimpressed.

"You seen her?"

Ellie was silent for a while as she imagined the girl in her head. Yeah no way. 'She's too perfect to be gay.' 'That sounds bad Ellie you can't say that.' You were just so... you. When Joel and Ellie had first arrived in Jackson you had been the first one to introduce her to the others your age. You showed her kindness and helped her get situated into her new life. She would remember how you would often invite her over for dinner with your family, making her feel welcome in a town where she initially felt like an outsider. You'd help her with chores, tell her about the best spots in Jackson as well as who to look out for and who to trust. But after the first couple of months, you two had slowly fallen out. Ellie had Dina and Jesse, and you had your own friends. But, of course, with you being next door neighbors the two of you would still interact from time to time. Ellie’s positive view of you never changed, you were still the sweet girl who had helped her years ago. She remembered the times you’d both sit on her porch, talking about dreams and plans for a future that always seemed so uncertain to her yet you were always so sure of it. All your hopes for the future, the places you wanted to visit, the things you wanted to study, Ellie had wondered if you still had all the same goals. And all this to say; you are not gay. If this was just a way to convince herself that she'd never have a chance or if it was a way to get Joel to back off, she didn't know or care.

"Gone quiet. You fond of her?" He said with an accusing smile.

"Nope." She stands abruptly, handling her plate before walking over to the kitchen to place it in the sink. "Thanks for dinner. I'm going to bed, goodnight."

"Goodnight." He replied watching her as she scurried up the stairs with a knowing smile.

Ellie laid in bed that night, staring at the ceiling. As much as she hated to admit it, Joel was right. She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to talk to you more, to get to know you all over again. Maybe there was a chance, however small, that you would feel the same fondness towards her as she felt for you. But that was a problem for tomorrow.

. . .

Thanks 4 reading u all! Notes r appreciated! :3

Next chapter! (chapter 1)

Authors note!!! chat is this shocking? wdym u thought this was an Overwatch blog whaaat wdym idk what that is... FIRST SERIES U GUYS lets hope it doesn't end up discontinued ermmm if it does whoopsy. I am physically unable to post something more than 600 words so each chapter will kinda be one shot style! I was tired of all the serious modern AU smutty ellie fics (as good as they are!) i needed something silly so i had to take matters into my own hands im afraid

[moonstruckme]

Hi! A lil Sirius request or u could do it with one of the other boys (Remus James) but what about if his gf May be has an old injury that always flares up? (I hurt my knee years ago and even tho it's ok now every once a while if I over use it then it still hurts) and just fluff about her being upset her body won't cooperate and him just icing it and doting on her

Thank you for requesting!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 623 words

“Try to get up one more time,” your boyfriend threatens, “and I swear to god I will sit on you.” 

“I just want the remote.” 

“And I’m getting it for you.” Sirius stretches towards the coffee table, keeping the ice pack held to your knee with his other hand. He grabs the remote that had been too far for you to get on your own, passing it to you with an exasperated look. “Relax, sweetness, you won’t miss your show.” 

“Thanks,” you huff, turning the TV on. Really, you just want the distraction. Your knee is still radiating a warm ache, your skin still prickling from the humiliation of having to admit it when Sirius had noticed your limp. 

“Don’t mention it,” he replies, voice quieter than usual. His touch is gentle as he adjusts the ice pack, careful not to press down too hard. You feel shitty for being snippy with him, and resolve not to speak until you can be trusted to do it nicely, in the way he deserves. 

It doesn’t work. Sirius is watching you, gaze shrewd and contemplative, fingers tapping a distracted rhythm on your ice pack. You keep your eyes obstinately on the TV, but it’s only a matter of time before he speaks up. 

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty girl?” 

You sigh, closing your eyes ashamedly. “I’m sorry.” 

Sirius tsks. “For acting pissy when you’re pissed? Don’t worry about it.” 

“I don’t have to be mean to you just because I’m pissed,” you say, tilting your head back on the couch cushions. “I just feel like I should be able to run a couple of blocks without crippling myself. It’s got nothing to do with you.” 

Sirius’ mouth pulls sympathetically. He brings his free hand to your hurting leg, rubbing up and down the back of your calf. “We did a lot of walking before, too,” he points out. “It was a big day.” 

“That’s just it.” Your mouth tastes bitter. “I’m not eighty years old, walking around shouldn’t be a big day for me.” 

“I know, baby,” he says softly. “I’m sorry, it’s shit. But when it’s cool out like this, and you’re putting a lot of pressure on your knee, you’ve just—you need to treat yourself a bit more gently.” You make a sour face, and Sirius squeezes your calf, lips slanting upward. “I know, you’re very rugged. You’re the picture of youthfulness and good health. But try looking after yourself the way I look after you, yeah? For my peace of mind.” 

He speaks with blasé lightness, but his words melt you like butter in the sun. You sigh heavily, feigning reluctance. “But you’re so good at it,” you complain. 

“It’s hard work, yeah.” Sirius’ canines peek out as he grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll train you up. You’d really be helping me out, taking a load off. And it’d free me up to do more things like this.” 

He keeps his eyes on yours as he leans down, dark lashes fluttering prettily close to his brow. Your cheeks heat. Sirius moves the ice pack momentarily, pressing a featherlight kiss to the skin just below your knee. 

“There,” he says decisively, putting the ice pack back in place. “It’ll be better by tomorrow now, guaranteed.” 

You bite down on your lip to keep a smile at bay. “I didn’t realize how much you’d be able to accomplish if we shared the responsibilities.” 

“Yes, well, I know I make it look easy, but it is a lot,” Sirius tells you with faux solemnity. “Is there anywhere else I should see to?” He makes a show of looking you over. “Tsk, that lip looks to be hurting, too. C’mere, gorgeous, let me take care of that.”