#the way i want to ramble on and on about this but i know i have a mx journal-- so i will be raving there-- unless someone wishes to talk

[rafesangelita]

⊹₊⟡⋆♡ oh, nothing! just bitchy!kook!reader walking around the house in nothing but rafe’s favorite heels after he decides talking on the phone with his friends is more important than paying attention to his girl..

warnings: bratty behavior, rafe being sexually frustrated lol, groping, heavy teasing, suggestive ending

a/n: just a little something on the shorter side because these 2k+ wc fics have done their number on me lol

you rolled your eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips as rafe’s laughter echoed from upstairs. he has been on a three way call with kelce and topper for going on an hour now, and while you usually didn’t care, he had you waiting for him downstairs in full glam and an empty tummy. this is what you get when you try to play nice and put your catty attitude to the side for one night; a negligent boyfriend who had no care for anything else in the world except for what him and his idiot friends were rambling on about. your impatience is what lead you to be in the position you were in right now; naked and ignoring rafe as he followed you around the house, begging you to give him the slightest amount of attention.

“we can go get dinner now, okay?! i was just listening to topper vent about ruthie, i swear i wasn’t ignoring you!” he refrained from stopping you in your tracks, his cock stirring in his pants when he watched the way your hips swayed with every step. “oh, really?” you spun around, your boyfriend’s eyes falling down to your bare chest, “not responding to me when i called you downstairs like a thousand times wasn’t you ignoring me?” rafe opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when you walked away from him again. this time he watched you round the corner of the hallway, making your way into the kitchen before cursing under his breath.

you could tell you were driving rafe insane by the way he was gripping the kitchen island, his knuckles white with tension. “so, what? you’re just going to walk around like that?” he asked, his eyes burning into your skin. you shrugged, bending over the counter with a look in your eyes that made him want to wrap a fist in your hair and take you right there. “too bad you were busy with your friends earlier.. i actually wanted to be the sweet girlfriend tonight and give you dessert after dinner. oh well..” you pouted, walking past him as you flipped your hair over your shoulder. why were you like this? toxic, bitchy, mean, but still irresistible, sexy, and perfect?

“it won’t happen again, i promise.” rafe was hypnotized as he watched you walk into the living room, your heels clicking against the floor as your boyfriend pleaded with you to let him take you upstairs. “maybe the neighbors would appreciate the view a lot more than you do—” you barely touched the curtains before your boyfriend snatched you away from the large window. “that’s enough.” he said through gritted teeth, his gruff voice just right below your ear. suppressing the butterflies from fluttering in your tummy, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “that poor excuse of an apology isn’t gonna get you anywhere.” rafe chuckled, his hands feeling like fire on your hips.

“let me show you how sorry i am..” he turned you around, his cock aching as he could now feel your tits pressing against him through his shirt. he was making it really hard for you to keep up your act. “acting like a little brat, i know exactly what you need right now.” you gasped when you felt him take a handful of your ass, his bruising grip only exciting you further. “and what is that?” you leaned in, feeling the last of your resolve crumble when he took your hand to feel him through the denim of his jeans. “it’s so hard for you, baby,” he nearly moaned, lowering his tone, “and i’m still so hungry..”

[wcters]

𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗡𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗜𝗡 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 2k+

summary: your relationship with lando through the teenage years

warnings: pda, established relationship, mostly fluff, some angst | i know lando moved to glastonbury later in his life but 🤫 i also wrote this in 2 hours instead of doing because i got excited and had an idea

     You and Lando had first met when you were teenagers. Him being a lanky teenage boy with puffy cheeks and curly hair, and you being a young girl with frizzy hair and a youthful look in your eyes. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone when you first started dating, it’s like you both were on the same wavelength.

You still remember the day you met him ━━ how could you not? You two went to the same school so you knew who each other was, and you had heard of him from people around the town talking about his karting career. Your parents were family friends with the Norris’s, and they never failed to talk about how proud they were of their children.

It was the start of school after the 2013 summer break. You had quite a small friend group in school so when you had classes with no one you were friends with, you tended to be quiet and focus on your school work. That resulted in you being forced to sit next to the rowdy kids. Why? You didn’t know. It’s not like it changed them, and it just bothered you. It was one of those times, and it was Lando who was put next to you. Him and his friend group tended to be the disruptive bunch. They weren’t bad people or bad at school, just got a little too loud at times and forgot to pay attention.

You were sat in the middle row of your math class. The seat next to you was empty at the start of class, but at the end it wasn’t. Lando and his friends got a little too loud and he was “punished” by being put next to you so he couldn’t talk with his friends. You looked at him when he made his way over, but that was it. He was cute ━━ you could admit it. And it didn’t hurt that someone cute was being put next to you, but you shook your feelings off and forced yourself to focus. At them end of class when you were grabbing your things, a hand poked your shoulder. You turned around and came face-to-face with the Norris boy. He looked a little nervous, fidgety and a small smile on his face. You tilted your head. “Hey ━━ I uh ━━ didn’t have enough time to finish some of the notes. Do you mind if I borrow some of yours?”

You were a little surprised, you didn’t think he cared that much about school. Most kids wouldn’t bother getting down a little bit you missed ━━ not even you ━━ but he did. You smiled and nodded. “Sure,” you told him as you grabbed the paper out of your binder and gave it to him, “just return it once you’re done?” He nodded. The next day in class, he walked over to you and gave the paper pack, and you figured he would go back to his friends because the seat want permanent, but he didn’t. He put his bag on the ground and sat in the seat next to you. He did that, every day, for the rest of the year.

You two got to know each other well. You learned more about his competitive karting career and his family, while you told him about your family and friends. Nothing ever happened between you two, you were just friends. You had a crush on him, but you convinced yourself it was your mind tricking you because it was your first friend that was a boy. He thought the same, but he didn’t not believe his, he just didn’t act on it.

It was summer break, a year after you met him, when you realized you did like him. You were chatting with your grandma at her house as you were helping her sting stuff around the house. She had asked about your school semesters and how it was. You rambled on and on, not realizing that you mostly takes about Lando. It wasn’t until you were putting one of the last boxes down for her that it finally hit. “You must really like that boy, no?” You looked at her weird. “All you did was talk about him. You must like him.” It was when she said that that you had a moment of realization. After you finished helping her you went home to your mom and talked to her, confused on how to deal with this newfound information. She just laughed and gave you a hug, telling you that almost every teenage girl goes through this with someone in their life. That made you feel a bit better.

Your friendship turned into something more a couple weeks after that. The Norris family had invited your family to come watch one of Lando’s races at Buckmore Park. Your parents agreed as they wanted to catch up . . . You agreed because you wanted to see Lando. He did well, coming 5th place. You could tell he wasn’t happy about, but you were. You and your family met up with him at the end of the race. He wasn’t looking too happy, but when he saw you his face lit up. When you congratulated him he blushed. Your families talked for a bit ━━ mostly about how summer break was going ━━ and you were about to leave when Lando called out your name.

Your family continued to leave, saying they would meet up with you at the car with your mom winking at you. You blushed. At first there was some awkward silence, and then he asked ���would you like to go on a date?” You were a bit shocked, not expecting it, and you were nervous. What did people do on dates anyway? You know adults went out to eat and drink but you were fifteen! You completely forgot that you had to answer his question, and he started sputtering out words saying that you didn’t have to, and he was sorry before you interrupted him with a “yes.” It was his turn to look surprise.

You went on a date the next week, both of you unknowingly doing the same thing and panicking to your parents beforehand. It went fine, a bit awkward ━━ obviously ━━ but you thought it was cute. You went out for icecream and walked around Bristol. Halfway through the date he slipped his hand into yours, and you accepted it, but didn’t dare to look him in the eye.

After that, you two were inseparable. You two were always together, and practically lived at each others houses. Sometimes ━━ for weeks on end ━━ your parents never saw you a lot because you were always at Lando’s house. His parents always updated yours on how you were, and they trusted you. During an interview for Drive to Survive, your parents swore during those times they only saw you in the morning and night, the rest of the time you were with Lando. This would switch between you staying at his and him staying at yours.

Though Lando wouldn’t admit it when he was a teenager, he would do anything for you. If you asked him to jump off a bridge, he wouldn’t even ask why, he’s just do it. There are so many pictures on your phone and Polaroids of him in “embarrassing” situations ━━ like one where he had a face mask on and his nails painted. You keep that one in the back of your phone case. He would let you braid his hair, practice makeup on him, help him with his skincare, and so many other things. This would always be in the secrecy of your room and when your families weren’t there because he dreaded the day his family saw him like that.

He had no idea that you had shown his sisters and parents almost every single one. They promised to keep it quiet, and they did. You also know they won’t tell him that they have some of those pictures on their phones. It’s a secret between you and them, a need to know thing.

Whenever you had sleepovers at his house, you would stay with his sisters because you weren’t allowed to be with him ━━ for good reason ━━ and because you loved his sisters. As you got older, you bonded more with them, helping them out with boy problems and girl problems, because everyone had those girls in high school who made your life a living hell. You broke down crying when you found out they were moving to Glastonbury. How would you survive without not being able to hug your boyfriend? How would you cope without the gossip sessions with his sisters? The talks about your life over helping Cisca with dinner and talking politics with Adam? Laughing at embarrassing moments of Lando with his brother?

Before that, you had put off getting your license. You walked or took buses to most places, and it saved you money. When you found out they were moving though, you made it your life’s mission it get your license and a car. You were on moving day, helping the family with setting things up and cleaning up the place. You still remember the dinner you had that night. It wasn’t fancy, just Chinese takeout on a table in the half put together living room, but it was one of the moments where you truly felt like family. It wasn’t that you hadn’t before, but it was the private ness of the situation that really hit your heart. You begged to stay over, not caring that it was a school night, but you couldn’t. You hugged everyone goodbye with teary eyes, kissing Lando, and promising to be back soon.

And you were. When you had that car, you spent an unbelievable amount of money on gas. You drove to his house almost every weekend. Sometimes he would come over to your house, but it was mostly you going over there out of convenience. If Lando wanted to go to yours, he’d probably have to pile all of his siblings in the car, while you didn’t have to do that. Besides driving to Glastonbury, your car was also used as a pick me up. Whenever something happened with his sisters, you’d be there in a heartbeat, telling them to get in ━━ telling Lando he can’t come with him grumbling something under his breath ━━ and you’d go and grab food. Whatever they needed, you were there ready to do it? Boy problems? Junk food and a sad playlist. School problems? Listening to them vent and giving them advice. Period problems? That depended on that they wanted. You even remember one time on March break Flo had an experience with a boy and you took her to a rage room . . . It was so fun, and you definitely did it again with Cisca.

While you were there for all the important events in Lando’s life, he was the same. He was there when your grandma died, and you swore he was one of the few things that kept you together. He was there when you graduated high school and got accepted into your dream school.

Your relationship stayed the same throughout his whole career, you to where you both were now, living in Monaco. You still acted like teenagers, jokingly fighting over little things and teasing each other. Your love baver wavered, it stayed the same for each other, maybe even became stronger. There were periods in your relationship like when he first started in Formula One and you moved to college that it was tricky, but you go through it. You always would.

As you sat on the sofa in your home and twirled the ring on your finger, you remembered the whole of your relationship and the future of it. You were broken out of your trance by a kiss on your head. You hummed, not turning to look at him. “She’s gone to bed. She’s been changed and given her bottle. You smiled and looked up at him, “thank you.” He kissed you on your lips, “of course. You ready to go to bed, Mrs. Norris?” You chuckled and got up, walking around to the couch to meet him in his arms.

“Always, Mr. Norris, always.”

[thelovehypothesis]

You ramble, but it's adorable

Ollie Bearman x fem!reader

From this request 

+1k words

a/n's: this was requested on my old account which I accidentally deleted but, hope this fic finds the person that requested it!

warnings: fluff!

summary: lost in your latest obsession, and he's completely captivated by your every word—because to Ollie, every ramble is just another reason to fall in love.

Ollie had always found it easy to get lost in the small moments—those quiet pauses between races, when the world slowed down just enough for him to savour the simplicity of life. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the way he felt right now, watching you animatedly explain your latest obsession.

You were sitting on the couch, knees tucked under you, eyes sparkling as you tried to unpack the complex universe that Taylor Swift had created with her "folklore" album. Your hands moved in quick gestures as you traced out what you called "the love triangle of all love triangles" between Betty, James, and August. Ollie leaned against the backrest, listening with a quiet smile, his eyes never leaving your face. 

"And then—" you continued, your voice slightly higher in pitch with excitement, "in 'Cardigan,' Betty is talking about how she loved James even after he messed everything up. But, and here's the crazy part, 'August' is from the perspective of the girl James cheated on her with!" You waved your hands in a dramatic arc. "It’s so genius because it’s like each song is a different piece of the same story. I mean, can you even imagine the emotional depth it takes to create something like that?"

Ollie chuckled softly, shaking his head just enough for you to notice but not enough to interrupt you. You barely paused, too deep in your passionate analysis of the music to stop. 

"But wait, I’m not done!" You looked at him, eyes wide. "You’ve got 'Betty' next, which is James' apology song. He’s basically trying to get Betty back after messing around with August, but you can tell he’s just a stupid kid who didn’t know what he had until he lost it!" You sighed dramatically, clutching a pillow to your chest. "It’s heartbreaking, but also like... I can't stop listening to it on repeat."

Ollie couldn't help it; his heart swelled at how much you cared about all these tiny details, how you put your whole soul into explaining it to him. He loved how your face lit up with excitement, how your voice carried the melody of your thoughts so effortlessly. And he especially loved how you didn’t care whether he knew every little detail or not—you just wanted to share it with him.

"You’re adorable, you know that?" Ollie said softly, his voice cutting through your rambling just enough to make you pause.

You blinked, thrown off for a second. "What?" 

"You ramble, but it's adorable," he repeated, this time with that signature Ollie grin that made your stomach flip. He reached out, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered near your cheek, warm and soft.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. "I’m not rambling… am I?"

"You absolutely are," Ollie teased, leaning forward so that his face was inches from yours. "But don’t stop. I like it when you talk about stuff like this. It’s like... I can see how much it means to you, and I love seeing you so happy."

You playfully swatted his arm, but your heart was beating faster, the tender warmth of his words melting away any embarrassment. "Fine," you said, narrowing your eyes in mock seriousness, "but don’t complain when I start talking about the metaphors behind the lyrics."

"I wouldn’t dream of it." He pulled you closer, his arm slipping around your waist. His eyes softened as they held yours, and for a moment, the world outside your little bubble disappeared.

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush of affection. But then Ollie deepened it, his hand cupping the side of your face as he pulled you impossibly closer, his lips warm and insistent, making your heart race even faster. 

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, you couldn’t help but grin at him. "I think that was just a tactic to stop me from talking."

Ollie smirked, the mischievous glint in his eyes impossible to ignore. "Maybe," he admitted, his thumb grazing your lower lip, "but it worked, didn’t it?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny that you were already melting under his touch. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing you in as if you were the most precious thing in the world. 

"Seriously though," Ollie murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "I love listening to you talk. About Taylor Swift, about racing, about whatever it is that’s on your mind. You’re just so… passionate about everything, and it makes me love you even more."

The way he said it, so effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world, made your heart skip a beat. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close again, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

"You’re too sweet, Ollie," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

He chuckled lightly, his arms tightening around you. "Only for you."

For a while, you both stayed like that—curled up in each other’s arms, the TV flickering in the background, the weight of the world outside fading away. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that this moment, with him holding you so gently, was exactly where you wanted to be.

After a while, you shifted slightly, tilting your head up to look at him again. "Okay, but I’m serious about that love triangle. You have to admit it’s pretty genius, right?"

Ollie smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before nodding. "It’s genius," he agreed, even though he barely understood half of what you were saying. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way your eyes lit up, the way your voice danced with excitement. And if listening to Taylor Swift conspiracies made you this happy, then he would listen to every single one.

"Thanks for putting up with my rambling," you said, your voice softening.

Ollie smiled, brushing his lips against yours once more. "It’s not putting up with anything. I love it, and I love you."

And with that, he kissed you again—soft, sweet, and full of love. The kind of kiss that felt like home. The kind that made you feel like no matter what you rambled about, he would always be there to listen, to smile, and to love you through it all.

---The End---

-Lots of love, Em.

[joannasprose]

ellie williams x nervous!reader

content warning: slight insecurity, a nervous girl who doesn’t know what to do with herself, fluff, comfort (as always), vague angst, proofread this time! (proofread but not edited, sorry I’m lazy!)

note: I found this in my drafts, I didn’t even know I made something like this and decided to post it :) also you can thank my mind (in good ways and bad), because I have another Ellie post that will be ready soon 👀 trying so badly not to post back to back though 💜 (this one is a little rushed and not as good as my others because I completely forgot what it was about 🫡)

| ellie can tell that there’s something up with you. when you finally tell her, she can’t help but be slightly amused.

———

ellie’s hand has yet to leave the small of your back. as the two of you walk through the unfamiliar bar, you cling onto her a little more tightly.

she watches you—unbeknownst to you—as your brows furrow, as you begin to chew the flesh of your cheek. “you okay,” she questions, now leading you over to what you assumed to be the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind you.

her hand moves slowly to the side of your waist, pulling you closely towards her, holding you gently. you smile, a nervous one as your arms nervously wrap around the sides of her shoulders and loop around her. “yeah. i’m okay, i’m just…” but you’ve stopped yourself.

it had now been four months since both you and ellie had started dating. even then, before she knew of your feelings—her actions had never failed to make you nervous. sure, she had her moments where she would stumble over her words while a rosy hue coated her cheeks. but the moment she had figured you out, the teasing became relentless. not that you minded it, though.

“I’m fine. It’s fine.” you say, eyes once leaving every inch of her figure and darting to the tiled floors, the decorative picture frames—anything but her.

“Y/N,” ellie says, the softness of her eyes never leaving as she spoke, “tell me what’s on your mind. you know I won’t judge.” her hand abandons your waist, now grazing over the skin of your cheek, holding you gently.

“It’s stupid. It’s nothing really,” you begin. this time ellie doesn’t interrupt, practically forcing you continue on with your ramble. “the people. they make me nervous. and you—“ you say but interrupt yourself. you almost don’t see it. the way ellie’s eyes flicker in guilt, the way her grip on you loosens subtly, as if to free you from the overwhelming feeling of her presence.

“no-no. that’s not what I meant.” you say as you scramble for words. abruptly, you pull her closer to you, a tightening hug that she embraces with you when the feeling subsides. slightly.

“you just. when I’m around you, I don’t know what to do with myself. you make me nervous, it’s just embarrassing. and yeah, I know we’ve been dating for a couple of months now,” ellie watches as you continue with your ramble, the words falling from your tongue mindlessly. she just waits, watches, “but I don’t know. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”

ellie pauses, and she looks at you, pulling away just to see your face. you look away, eyes finding the hem of her shirt but she pulls her hand to your cheek, making you look at her now. “I make you nervous?” even if you hadn’t looked at her, you could practically hear the smile on her lips. you push her away, now embarrassed.

“ellie, stop,” you say, dragging out the letter p when you say it. You try to sound irritated, but you find yourself fighting away a smile.

“What? I like seeing my girl smile,” she begins, grabbing your waist, pulling you closer to her as the music from the house becomes distorted, slowing becoming nothing but background noise. “And, I don’t want you worrying about anything okay?” ellie backtracks, nearly cringing at her words, “not that, I could just make you not worry, you know? Like I’m not forcing you or anything. I hope it didn’t come out that way.” this time, you find comfort in ellie’s loosely put words.

And as you smile, when you smile, she stops, watching you like she always has.

“It’s okay ellie. I get it.” You pull her closer to you, and this time you don’t hesitate when you push your lips against hers. for a moment, her lips are still, presumably in slight shock—but she quickly recuperates and kisses you back.

after a moment, you pull away and speaks, “you’re not shy anymore? you can kiss me now?”

you shove ellie playfully away from you, muttering asshole, under your breath.

In the height of the night, even with your undying anxiety, you’d always known ellie would be there to comfort you no matter what.



[daisymbin]

promise me ice cream! - jeon wonwoo

warnings: slightly insecure wonwoo?

pairings: jeon wonwoo x reader

genre: drunk confessions, friends to ???

wc: 1.3k

a/n: I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve 223 of yall following me but thank you 🥺

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

your best friend, wonwoo is sprawled on the bed, looking more like a puddle of drunk affection than his usual composed self. he's clinging onto you, he wedges your leg in between his own; hugging it like it was a bolster as his head rests on your lap as if it were a pillow, his arms wrapped around your leg, not wanting to let go as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. his gaze is hazy, eyes blinking slowly as he stares up at you, his lips curving into a drunken smile, “you're so pretty.” he says as you chuckle while you run your hands through his hair; messaging his head a little to relieve the potential headache.

“why'd you drink so much tonight?” you asked, “its not like you, you're not usually like this.” wonwoo lets out a deep sigh at your question, “you were talking to jun all night and…i dont know, i just didn't like it. i got jealous. it's like…you’ll never pick me.” he says with a pout, eyes closing shut. “jealous? of jun?” you frown, trying to make sense of his words. if only he knew, “don't be silly, you know i talk to jun all the time but you'll always be my best friend. there's nothing to be jealous about.” you reassured. “& i’ll always pick you.”

“you're breaking my heart.” wonwoo mumbles so soft, you almost would have missed it if it weren't for a drunk wonwoo clinging onto you for dear life, heightening all your senses & leaving your heart beating so fast. “what do you mean, wonwoo?” 

"you’re my favorite person," he says, his voice soft and slow, like he’s trying to convince himself of something. "i don’t know if i’ll ever be your favorite, but... you're my favorite." his hand gently strokes the inside of your thigh, sending shiver down your spine. his fingers light against your skin as if he’s trying to memorize the feeling of being this close.

you smile as you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. you’re a little amused yet also, a little taken aback by the way he’s acting; he's never been like this. you gently run your fingers through his hair, trying to coax him to sleep even though you're sure he’s already half asleep. & maybe you're also just taking advantage of the situation and being a little selfish; having him like this.

"i’m just me," he continues, voice drowsy and laced with alcohol. "i’m just wonwoo, you know? just regular, plain ol' wonwoo. but you're... you're perfect. sparkly. i don’t even know why you ever looked my way years ago, let alone be friends with me.”

you laugh softly, but it’s mixed with a hint of sadness, wondering how he could ever think that about himself. "you’re not just wonwoo, you know that, right? you’re more than that."

wonwoo shakes his head, but his grip on your leg tightens. "no, no, no. i’m just me. i’m just wonwoo, and you’re... you’re so pretty and you're so kind. you're such a good person...so much better than I'll ever be. that's why you would never like someone like me."

his words sting more than they should, but you can tell he's too drunk to mean them fully, right? that's what you hoped for at least. you want to tell him how wrong he is, how much you care for him, but instead, you sit in the quiet, letting him speak his mind as he clings onto you, his drunken ramblings the only thing filling the space between you two.

after a moment, he sits up a little, his gaze suddenly lighting up with a burst of energy. "ice cream," he says, as if it’s the most important thing in the world right now. "we should go on an ice cream date. right now. let’s go."

you glance at him, blinking in surprise at the sudden contrast. it’s already past 4AM and he’s drunk, this is not the time for an ice cream run date. "wonwoo," you say softly, trying to get him to focus. "it’s really late. we’re not going for ice cream right now, okay?"

he looks up at you with wide, sad, hopeful eyes, and you can’t help but find it endearing, even if it’s a little ridiculous. "why not?" he asks, his pout deepening, and his grip on your leg tightening again as he drags himself impossibly closer to you. "i want to go on an ice cream date with you, please?” 

you laugh, though it's full of affection and fondness. "wonwoo, you’re drunk & it’s really late. we’re not going anywhere. you can’t go out for ice cream right now, I don't think you can even walk straight, did you forget how I had to haul you back here?"

he pouts even harder, his lower lip trembling slightly & he almost look as if he’s about to start crying any time as he sits back and crosses his arms, looking like a grumpy child. "but i want ice cream. now. i’m hungry."

you can’t help but smile at his stubbornness. "we’ll go tomorrow, okay?" you promise. "i’ll take you out on an ice cream date tomorrow. I'll even let you pick all the flavours you want, even if its 5 of them."

wonwoo tilts his head to the side, staring at you with a suspicious frown. "tomorrow? don’t lie…i’m only asking you now because… this is a dream, you wouldnt reject me in my dream, would you?" he asks, his voice filled with doubt. "because i know you won’t really take me for ice cream tomorrow when I wake up. you don’t like me like that. you’re just humoring me."

"wonwoo, i promise, tomorrow, we’ll get ice cream," you reassure him, your voice gentle and warm as you stroke his hair again, trying to comfort him.

but wonwoo still looks disappointed and doubtful, his shoulders slump. "tomorrow will never come. this is all a dream. you’ll wake up, and i’ll be... i’ll be just me. plain wonwoo. i won’t be good enough for you. you will never pick me.”

your heart aches at the way he’s talking. he doesn’t believe that you like him, doesn’t believe in this moment, in the promise of tomorrow. "wonwoo, i’m not going anywhere," you say, taking his hand in yours. "i'll be right here when you open your eyes when the sun rises & i'll tell you all the reasons why you're more than enough. i really do like you, I love you, and tomorrow, we’ll get ice cream. i promise."

he looks down at your hand, still not fully convinced. "promise?" he asks, his voice small and fragile.

"promise," you say firmly, hands finding his as you lock your pinky around his.

wonwoo hesitates for a moment, then sighs, his expression softening. "okay...okay," he murmurs, closing his eyes as he rests his head back on your lap, your hands instinctively go back to playing with his hair, he's completely content now. "ice cream date tomorrow. i’ll wait for tomorrow...even if it doesn't happen it's okay..at least im laying on your lap now…at least you’re playing with my hair now…at least now i know what it's like to hear you say you like me too.”

you smile, brushing a strand of hair out of his face, watching him drift off to sleep in your lap. even though he’s drunk and unsure, you know he believes you somewhere deep down. & tomorrow, you’ll take him for ice cream, just like you promised. and maybe, just maybe, tomorrow, he’ll realize how much you really do care about him, & how much you really do love him.

[aealzx]

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Update Post

Prologue | AO3

Previous

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“...o, he hasn’t woken up yet.”

Someone had entered the room that morning, and now Jazz was talking to someone that could have been them or another person entirely. The haze of their lowered conversation was helping to pull Danny from the fog of sleep. But after the initial part it sounded like the conversation was one sided.

“Clothes?.... Actually, I don’t know what he would like. He hasn’t bought anything for himself for two years now. And never has a response when we ask.”

That response made Danny feel like they were talking about him. Jazz and whoever she was talking to. It was probably on the phone. He felt a little bad, but what she had just said was true. He hadn’t really done much when it came to clothing lately. Sam and Tucker had mostly been the ones to give his Phantom attire an update, and he just hadn’t bothered to address anything else.

“No, I’m not going to wake him up. He needs his rest-”

“Mmm… ‘s fine, J’zz. ‘M awake,” Danny forced himself to mumble even though he wasn’t quite fully alert yet. Relaxing in the study the previous evening had been really nice, and his spirits had risen a little when the few sips of broth he’d had a few hours before bed hadn’t made him sick again. But he still felt like a truck had hit him in his sleep, which made that morning hard. “Izzat for me? Here…” he asked, lazily flopping his hand into the air so that Jazz could give him the phone.

Jazz seemed to consider it for a moment, but eventually sighed and walked over to put the borrowed cellphone in Danny’s hand. Danny couldn’t see, having not managed to open his eyes yet, but Alfred was waiting patiently at the door to get it back. For now Danny just flopped it next to his head and turned his ear into it. “Mm…’ello?”

“Danny! Good morning~”

It was Stephanie. Chiming in a bubbly way that was much too energetic for… what time was it? Still felt too early.

“So, we’re out shopping and getting some new clothes for everyone, but your friends are being unhelpful and keep saying you don’t have any kind of style you like. Soooo, you get to answer. What would you like us to pick up for you? And what size do you usually wear?” Stephanie rambled, anticipating Danny would have more answers than the others.

“Uhhhhhh….,” Danny stalled, both because he was still waking up and she had said a lot of words, but also because he didn’t have an answer. “I dunno. A t-shirt and jeans? I’m usually a size smaller than Tucker though.”

“Seriously? That’s it? That’s so boring,” Stephanie complained.

“See? We told you, but you didn’t believe us.” Danny could hear Tucker’s voice, and figured he was on speaker.

“He just kept wearing the same clothes he had when he was fourteen, and only has new ones because the rest of us bought some for him. But he was so unhelpful then too that we had to settle for just getting him space themed stuff,” Sam huffed, and Danny could hear her folding her arms in annoyance.

“Hey, I got a lot of other stuff to worry about than clothes,” Danny protested to defend himself.

“You like space themed stuff though?” Dick’s voice chimed in now.

“Yeah, I still like space,” Danny confirmed. “Can’t do much with it these days, but I’ve always wanted to be an astronaut,” he admitted, feeling a little embarrassed about admitting his childhood dream.

“Cool. What about puns?” Dick hummed, adding another question quickly.

“No. Dick, don’t you dare,” Stephanie scolded.

Danny could only smile though. “I love puns,” he confirmed, not able to pick out who was all contributing to the chorus of groans and complaints, “Why? You got a good one?”

“Maybe. You’ll see,” Dick’s response was with barely held mirth. “Thanks kiddo, take it easy,” he bid before ending the call.

Well at least that was something to look forward to. Danny’s smile didn’t fade as he lifted the phone from the pillow to hand back to Jazz, who then returned it to Alfred. He ended up rolling over and laying there for a little longer, which made Jazz giggle and run her fingers through his hair for a bit. It was comfortable, and at least he wasn’t so tired he fell asleep right after waking up.

“...Alfred made some more of the broth you got last night. Do you want to try some more?” Jazz eventually asked when Danny finally managed to keep his eyes open and focus on things.

Danny considered how he felt before answering, and ended up nodding. “These help,” he admitted, pointing to the anti nausea patch behind his ear. It was enough confirmation for Jazz to move to help him sit up, stuffing all the pillows she could behind him when he was upright so he wouldn’t have to worry about spilling. The broth really did taste good, despite only being slightly warmer than room temperature. He found that if he only took small sips, and waited awhile between them he didn’t end up with his stomach wanting to revolt again. Maybe eventually he’d want a fat burger again, but for now this was enough.

He soon learned that he hadn’t woken up until after 10:00 am, but while that felt weird to hear he eventually realized there was nothing wrong with it. Apparently the others had been out all morning, Stephanie having come to get them since it was a holiday for her school. Not that her attendance was stellar anyway with all the mishaps she ended up in during the daytime, but it helped convince Bruce to let her carry on. She’d even managed to drag Dick and Barbara to join them. And that and the phonecall earlier led to Dick being the one to burst into the bedroom shortly after noon with the bags he’d promised over the phone.

“Head’s up!” Dick called as the only warning before he tossed a new t-shirt over Danny’s head.

“Dick!” Barbara scolded mildly, having only heard how Danny was doing and not completely sure he was up for being harassed.

To her surprise Danny just snorted. “It’s fine. It’s just a shirt,” he excused, pulling the t-shirt off his face and spreading it where he could see. While Dick grinned triumphantly at Barbara before turning to watch Danny expectantly, Danny quickly read the text on the shirt and promptly half choked on a snort. “HAHAHAHA H-,” he erupted with full on laughter, wheezing as he tried to vocalize the text. “I have - PFFFF HAHAHA - so many prob- HHHHH Jazz,” he howled and wheezed, turning the shirt so his sister could see the astronaut image surrounded by the text ‘Houston, I have so many problems’.

“Oh-.... Ohhhhh that’s great,” Jazz grimaced, giving a thumbs up as the content of the shirt was enough to dampen her own joy over seeing Danny laughing so openly. Considering his current situation, Danny probably thought it was rather fitting.

“I’m so upset we were right that he would love that,” Sam grumbled with a shake of her head.

“I think it’s great,” Danielle chimed in, though not laughing quite as much as Danny since she’d already seen everything.

“Of course you do,” Tucker sighed.

“I have more!” Dick took that as a chance to continue, plopping on the bed and digging out another shirt to pass over to Danny.

“Oh no, I’m leaving. Have fun,” Tucker groaned, quickly heading out the door partially to get away from what he had a feeling was going to be a terrible session of puns and bad jokes, and partially to take care of his own haul. Sam was quick to follow his lead, dragging Danielle after them so she didn’t skip out on helping.

As Danny excitedly held up the next shirt another honk laugh escaped him, though not quite as uproarious as the first. “HA! Just need space. Classic,” he complimented, lowering the shirt to his lap and looking up at Dick again to see if he had more.

“This was the last shirt they had, but if you want more puns after I have plenty to give,” Dick complied, handing the final printed shirt over to Danny.

It took Danny a second to realize the graphic of the earth was suggested to be spinning, staring at the conversation between the characterized moon and their own planet. The moon was asking what the earth was doing, and the earth responded ‘Making everyone’s day’, and as soon as the joke clicked in Danny’s head he was almost crying with laughter again. He didn’t even notice Stephanie joyfully recording both of them.

“Give me what else you have,” Danny requested after getting his breath back, reaching out to tug on Dick’s arm. It felt good to laugh. Even if it hurt his ribs, hurt the still healing burns on his chest, it felt good to just sit and laugh about something stupid. He didn’t want to give it up just yet, and it seemed Dick had actually planned for this in the past few hours after learning Danny loved puns too.

“Alright, get comfy ‘cause I have got a real gemstore to show you,” Dick agreed eagerly, squirming up onto the bed next to Danny and getting comfortable as well where they could both look at his phone. He had a folder saved just for collecting his favorites.

Danny was quick to settle into place wedged against Dick’s side, quickly reading and giggling or outright barking more laughter as they flipped through the saved images of jokes ranging from ‘I’m more confused than a chameleon in a bag of skittles’ to ‘astronomers got tired of waiting for the sun to go down, so they decided to call it a day’. Throughout the scrolling and varying degrees of laughter at the jokes, Danny even added some of his own that he remembered after seeing some of the others. 

Eventually their session was interrupted by Damian pausing at the doorway, getting their attention with a light knock.

“Pennyworth would like to know if you would prefer supper in the study once more,” the youngest Wayne informed, and waited for the response.

“Who…?” was what Danny ended up responding with, having not heard people’s last names yet.

“Alfred. Damian calls everyone by their last names,” Dick thankfully supplied, earning a small noise of understanding from Danny. It wasn’t hard to tell the hours and hours of jokes had worn him out, but he seemed quite content so Dick didn’t feel bad. “You’ve upgraded to the couch already though? Hell yeah.”

The comment made Danny snort again, though he also had to grimace at Dick incredulously. “What kind of lifestyle do you people live?” he asked before giving a quick answer to Damian. “Here is fine for today. If that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be? Your recovery is of utmost importance to those in this household. If supper in bed will facilitate that, then it is of no consequence to anything else,” Damian responded easily, giving them a nod before leaving to report back to Alfred.

“Eh. We’ve had our fair share of injuries through the years,” Dick admitted to Danny’s question, lifting a finger to tap the small bandage on his own forehead once. “Enough that a knife wound is more like a papercut,” he half joked.

Danny snickered at the response, but wasn’t sure how he really felt about it. Was it really a good thing to be so used to being hurt that they seemed to have started making a game out of things relating to it? Maybe it was just something so inevitable for people like them, that they’d just had to make the most of it in the best way they knew how.

“Does it…,” Danny found himself speaking before he’d fully committed to the question in his mind. He had half the thought to retract his half voiced question, but opted instead to complete it. “Does it ever get to be too much?”

The question made Dick recognize a little more about what state of mind Danny was in, and his brows furrowed in concern before he eventually brought the smile back. “All the time,” he admitted. “Especially when you get all these meta humans and aliens involved. But… it’s too hard to stop.”

For a moment Danny had forgotten that the others, aside from Duke, didn’t have any special abilities that weren’t common for a regular human. It must be very stressful for them to have to deal with people like him that ended up rogue. But also, hearing someone else admit that they too, sometimes, only kept going because it was too hard for them to stop brought Danny a strange kind of bitter comfort. Maybe they were just all doomed together.

But, even if they were, at least he had company.

“...Thanks,” Danny chose to respond, relaxing a little more heavily into the pillows. The laughter had felt good, but the exhaustion and aches didn’t. “For all the jokes. I loved them.”

Dick could only grin fondly, reaching out to ruffle Danny’s hair after sitting upright. “No problem, kid. Anytime you need some more, just let me know.”

“Does that mean I can have your number after I get my phone back?”

Dick could only snort, having not expected that question. “Sure. We’ll figure something out for the whole interdimensional communication thing. I’m sure someone has already figured it out,” he chuckled, scooting to the edge of the bed to get ready to join the others at dinner.

Danny could only hum in acknowledgement, content with that answer, and let Dick leave to get his own food. Having someone to appreciate good jokes with was something to look forward to at least.

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Iiiii struggled a lil with this one too =3= But there were some notes I needed to be mentioned before getting too far along.

Thank you for whoever sent me some puns though XDD they really helped. I love puns, but I'm terrible at coming up with any or even remembering them.

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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @megacharizardx99

@bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, 

@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

@honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl,

@op-sys-chaos, @kirasigncomics, @ehobep, @paranoid-ira

[lilaccatholic]

Man, I feel like every clip I see from Pints with Aquinas lately Matt Fradd is demeaning women. Really sad to see it, I used to love his interviews :/

[zolass]

ㅤㅤ𝗧𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘀

ㅤ···─TEACHING MANNERS with AJAX ILLAD

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCharacter by @yanderefarm

Summary: A lot of parents complained to you, about the way a certain Illad, dresses to pick up his youngest brother. So there seems to be no way around, but try to.. talk some sense into the other male. wc: 1.8k

tags: smut, top m reader, bttm ajax, semi-public, +

Note: This idea is mostly from this little thing, I had the 'au' already written down and thanks to the dear owner of the character, I now have an idea on how to write this a bit better.

Still there's probably a high chance it sucks, but oh well I hope you guys enjoy <3

Never did Ajax think this would work. The first day he laid his eyes on you, he was smitten away, how can he not? You always made his younger brother ramble about how nice and cool you are, how you were his and others favorite teacher. 

Of course it is something that Ajax also noticed, at the beginning where he picked up his younger brother, you smiled at him and the way you held small talk with him, made his heart beat quicken.

Something about you was just simply so charming to him.

At first he wasn’t really happy, having to go back to school, even though he loved his youngest brother, he definitely would let someone else pick him up. But since he saw you, he couldn’t help but to simply pick his brother up with the driver. Over time he started to dress more– risky. 

From tailored suits, to cropped shirts that showed his abs, and low sitting pants showing his v line dipping into his pants. But there were people coming up to you, to complain about a certain male, about the way he started to dress, seeing it as improper. 

Mostly though it was women with.. Other stuff in mind thinking they could get something from you, maybe a phone number, to ‘complain’. Yet the number of Ajax was never even in the information, only the numbers of the parents.

But you still had to talk to the other, as you put all of your papers together and waved the kids goodbye. It was finally the weekend right in front of you. Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door, and as you looked over you saw Ajax. His shirt was cropped, like the last few times. But this time his slacks were rather nice fitting dress pants.

“My brother told me, you wanted to speak to me?” Ajax said, before he casually walked over to your desk, leaned against it. Your eyes were trained on him, as you gave him a small smile, “Yes.. there have been a few.. Complaints about the way you come to school, to pick your brother up, Mr Illad,” you told him, while you put the papers in a folder. Ajax’s eyes were glued to your figure, as a small smirk played on his lips, “Calling me Mr. Illad seems rather strange no? I mean we are both rather close age wise– call me Ajax,” he said.

Surprised you looked at the other, before closing the folder and putting it into your bag. “I’m sorry  Mr–” there was a slight squint of Ajax eyes,”Ajax, but I only asked you to come here because of the..” you trailed off as you noticed Ajax leaning closer to you, “What can I call you? I don’t mind calling you mine,” Ajax winked at you.

Your mouth dropped open in surprise, “I– ehh M/n– but that’s not the importance–” you were interrupted, “Nice to finally know your name, handsome,” Ajax said. He took another step closer, “You look really, and I mean really good in these clothes,” Ajax eyes were basically like two pools of lust.

Ajax was attractive, you couldn’t deny that. So when he leaned closer, you couldn't help but pull him closer until you captured his lips with your own. The kiss was led by desire but had the passionate edge to it. Your hands were firmly on his rather slutty waist, kneading the soft flesh with your hands.

The kiss went on for a while, before you pulled back. Both of your lips were swollen red, “Let me close the door,” you breathed out before quickly walking over and closing the door. Your hand pushed your hair slightly back, the tent in your slacks was rather obvious what’s coming next.

As you walked back to Ajax, you couldn’t help it but let your eyes wander over his body. Swallowing hard you couldn’t help but to fuck that teasing smirk off his lips, you sat down on your chair with your legs spread enough for a person between them. You teasingly tapped your hand on your thigh, “Why don’t you get to work, Ajax– maybe I can teach you some manners.”

He couldn’t help but stare at your bulge, before he nodded and quickly kneeled between your thighs. Licking his lips, Ajax started to rub his thumb over your cock, while he opened your pants with the other one as best as he could. But as he struggled you helped get your pants off with a chuckle, “You soon learn how to do it,” you said. 

Ajax’s cheeks were tinted pink at your words, but the way his own hard dick strained against his tight dress pants. Pulling your underwear down, Ajax couldn’t help the small gasp escaping his lips, as he watched with slightly widened eyes how your cock sprang free. Your girth was definitely nice, but what was catching his eyes more was your length that basically balanced your girth out. 

Not wasting anymore time he can have with you, Ajax quickly got to work. His lips wrapped around your tip, as he glanced up at you through his lashes after a small groan leaving your throat. You noticed him looking at you, you placed your hand on his head, but not pushing him down. He pushed his head down, getting more of your cock into his mouth, god you were basically the perfect match for him and definitely his mouth. 

Hopefully you were even better for his ass.

Ajax licked over the veins, making you groan a bit louder. He bobbed his head, happy that he finally reached half his goal. Suddenly you pushed his head down, until his nose was pressed against your groin and your entire length was buried deep into his throat. A moan rippled through Ajax’s throat as his eyes rolled back, yet he quickly knew what you wanted so he quickly got back to sucking you off, while you slightly thrusted up into his warm and wet mouth.

He couldn’t help it but just wanting you to fuck him, so he picked up the pace, hoping for you to cum right down his throat. Ajax could feel the way your dick twitched in his throat, and your hands grabbing onto his hair only to push his head down, he couldn’t help but moan as your cum spurted down his throat. 

Slowly he pulled his head back, not without licking over the veins on your cock. A small groan left you, as your tip popped out and Ajax gave it a teasing kiss. You let out a sigh, as you watched Ajax stand up. His own bulge is obvious now to you as well. 

You watched as Ajax turned around and swayed his hips from side to side. Biting your lip, as you stood up you were right behind him, your hands were placed on his waist, as Ajax grinded his clothed ass against your exposed cock. With a swift movement, you pushed the other's chest down onto the desk, showing two perfect round cheeks in front of you.

Making quick process, you quickly opened up the buttons to Ajax’s pants before pulling them down enough for them and his underwear to fall and pool around his ankles themselve. You held your cock in your hand, as you teased his hole with the tip, doing slow circles, smearing your precum around it. Whines left Ajax as he pushed his hips back, hoping for you to finally thrust into him. 

“Please~ just fuck me already,” Ajax begged you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Someone seems eager,” you teased as your eyes were focused on his expression that was turned to you.

Biting your lip you couldn’t help but smack Ajax round ass, letting a moan break free from his throat. Ajax hated but loved the way you treated him, his dick leaking precum on the floor, “Please just put it in– I’m already prepped, just, fuck me,” he begged you again. You watched him for a little longer until you pushed your tip in, a groan left you while a loud moan left Ajax.

You placed both hands on his hips, before you slammed your entire length into Ajax’s hole making a scream escape his mouth, as his eyes rolled back. The heat of your dick and the twitching made butterflies erupt in his stomach, where a small bulge formed. As you thrusted roughly into Ajax, you leaned down on his back.

Placing a kiss on his shoulder,”Taking me so well, baby,” you groaned into his ear. His hole tightened at your words, making you curse out a whispered fuck, before you picked up the pace. The sound of your skin hitting his turned both of you on even more.

Your hands were gripping Ajax’s waist, as your thrusts grew sloppy. Ajax felt the abuse on his prostate turn rather sloppy, so he knew you were about to cum. He couldn’t help himself but moan at the thought of you pumping your cum into him, “cum in me– ngh fuc– ple-see–” Ajax begged through the moans. The to well known feeling built up in his groin, “cum-ing,” Ajax moaned out, before his eyes rolled back as he came. His big useless cock dirtying the desk with his cum, as he felt your tip push against his prostate one more time before a moan rippled from your throat.

With one last rough thrust you pushed your entire length into Ajax as you came, the belly bulge getting bigger while Ajax caressed the spot with a sigh and imaginary hearts in his eyes. 

You basically stuck to Ajax even as your cock went soft inside of Ajax, but you couldn’t help but hold him in your arms. You kissed his shoulder, as you still held onto his hips. “You did well, pretty boy,” you said, slightly out of breath.

Ajax chuckled as a blush formed on his cheeks, “Thanks– you did fuck me pretty good too–” Ajax said, awkwardly even though he meant it. You did fuck him really well, his fingers trailed around the bulge, biting his lip Ajax couldn’t help but look back at you.

“Can I take you out on a date?” he suddenly asked you, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Sure– I mean yea-” you leaned your head against his neck. “You should wear suits more often– I still remember the times you had it on– you look really good with them,” you suddenly said.

Ajax seemed surprised at that, “Thank you,” there was another silence. “Do you think I’m pregnant with your kids?” Ajax suddenly spewed out, and you couldn’t help but look dumbfounded at him before you chuckled, “Ajax, I don’t think that’s how it works,” you said and a pout formed on his lips, “Sadly, but a man can have dreams–” he retorted. 

You couldn’t help but simply kiss his cheek, “Then when is the date?” you ask him. “How about we start– after we make it out of here– and we do another round in my car, how about that?” Ajax asked, with a teasing look over his shoulder. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, “sure.”

[suzukiblu]

Day seven of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems in someone who was in that situation trying to flirt with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“. . . ‘fast’,” Kon echoes awkwardly, glancing down at their hands. Tim tries not to wince. He definitely sounds like an idiot or a prude or–whatever. Just incredibly, incredibly uncool. 

He has actually never felt less like a prude since getting to know Kon well enough to notice things like how good the bastard looks soaked in Kool-Aid, but now is just . . . really not the time for thoughts like those, yeah. 

“I, uh–I’ve never actually, um . . . with anyone, actually. Guy or not,” Tim half-admits, though it feels stupid that being a virgin is something to admit instead of just a statement of fact. Normally it wouldn’t be, is the thing, but he just really doesn’t want Kon to think he sounds lame or antisocial or . . . whatever, exactly. “I actually would literally not even know how to, uh . . . give you ‘tips’ or anything. Unless I had like, the prep time to do some research, I mean. It’s just, uh–I don't date much, to be honest. Or, uh. Pretty much at all? Like, you're definitely more experienced than I am either, uh, either way, like that's just–I don't do much of this stuff. Any of it. I have in fact gone out with exactly two girls in my life and they both were definitely, um–also the ones who were making the moves and all.” 

It's not that he never want to make a move, just usually he's too busy being way too in his own head about it or something else entirely or–

God, he is rambling so much, Tim realizes, repressing a cringe when he realizes how blankly Kon’s currently staring at him. Because it is very, very blankly, that Kon is staring at him. 

Crap. 

“Uh,” Tim says with a grimace. “Sorry. Um. If you were expecting something . . . faster, I mean.” 

Kon should definitely not have anything that fast if he’s thinking of himself as a product, Tim’s basically positive, but also that’s actually not any of his damn business, but also he definitely needs to look into Kon’s dating history just to add a few names to his list for when he finally goes supervillain and just maybe look into–

. . . Kon is still just staring blankly at him. 

Tim fails to repress the cringe this time. 

“Uh,” he attempts again. “Kon? Are you . . .?” 

Kon turns literally crimson and ducks his head, but also doesn’t actually stop staring at him. 

. . . alright then, Tim thinks. 

“I do like you. I like you a lot. Like–I like-like you a lot, if I have somehow managed to not be embarrassingly obvious about that at this point,” he tries, borderline flailing in the conversation now since Kon is apparently no longer willing to use his words and he was already not doing that great with it when Kon was using his words, and he can’t even talk with his hands or anything because he’s holding Kon’s hands like an actual grade schooler, except probably no one ever has held Kon’s hands like–no, no, he is not far enough down the supervillain pipeline to be able to finish that thought process and deal with the psychological consequences of having to not burn down the system about it, he really cannot do that at any point in the next ten to fifteen years whatsoever. “This isn't–I'm just–it's not me not wanting to . . . take some pictures, eventually. Just . . . maybe we could wait a bit on it. Stick with the streets and buildings for a little while longer, maybe?” 

He tries for a smile and also tries not to cringe again over how weak an attempt it feels like, and then has the uneasy and uncomfortable thought that actually doing anything like that isn’t even really–is that ethical, even? Even the idea of doing something like that? Kon doesn’t really know Robin all that well, no, but they’re on the same team and the same side, and they’re teammates and at least arguably friends, and Kon also doesn’t know he is Robin, and– 

“Um,” Kon says, his hands tightening just a bit around Tim’s and his face still blazingly and borderline inhumanly red as his head ducks a little lower and his mouth curves into what is, in fact, the most unfairly soft smile that Tim has ever seen on the bastard’s face. “We could do that, yeah.” 

Tim was thinking about something, probably? Which hopefully wasn’t something important, considering just how ruthlessly Kon just fried his brain out of his head. Which is not even reasonable or logical, because all Kon did was . . . well, imply he was fine taking things at Tim’s pace and not actually going to get immediately bored if he didn’t put out and was actually interested in just being together, and also did it while smiling at him like that. 

Alright, fine, Tim knows exactly why his stupid brain got itself fried. He’s still apparently embarrassingly easy, though. 

Well, that’s not exactly new information in regards to Kon anyway. 

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

MONEY, MONEY, MONEY, MUST BE FUNNY IN A RICH MAN'S WORLD. ( HOTD X READER )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Stagehand! Reader prompt : Aegon falls in love with the stagehand of a jazz club. word count: 1, 000+ words

Aegon had a silver spoon up his ass from birth. He got the best cars, the best drugs, the best clothing, the best food. He didn't understand that not everyone had trust funds or billions in their bank account. He never knew struggle, nor would be thanks to his family name. He was a Targaryen, a god amongst the 'common folk'. But, in the small jazz club on the edge of Flea Bottom, he was just another man.

The bartender's didn't care about him, forcing him to pay full price for drinks. The dancers, more than once, backhanded slapped him for trying to catch a feel. All because of you, the stagehand, and brains behind the club. You preferred the shadows, keeping things smooth behind the scenes, saving you from embarrassment should you fail in public. You keep your co-worker's safe, and they did the same for you.

It was honorable. He could not fault you for ordering them to stand up for themselves. Even in the more sinful way of life, they still deserved basic respect. It also didn't help that you looked stunning when cursing him out. The way your eyes hardened. The way you would rip him apart with words. The color insults.

'The cumshot his Mother should have swallowed..'

'The inbred brat..'

'The depressing little wet rat..'

'The guy named Egg'

There was something about you. He didn't know what exactly. It could been the way you cussed him out. Or it could have been the way your eyes light up when you controlled the jazz club. But, there was a part of you that made him want to kick his feet up and twirl his hair like a giddy school girl.

Letting out a tipsy giggle as you snatch the glass of whiskey out of his hand, he leans against the bar table, a dopey grin on his face. He was not even close to being drunk, he’d barely even taken a sip of his whiskey. But, the look on your face was enough to make him feel drunk. You were so pretty. Your eyebrows furrowed, nose softly scrunched up, teeth gritted together, cheeks a flushed pink from anger.  Resting his chin on the palm of his hand, you were so pretty like this, all red faced and eyes full of hatred. He’d twirl his hair if it was long enough. Leaning a little closer on the bar table, he was practically standing on his tippy toes, eager to be close to you. 

“You come into my club, drunk, and think you can demand more to drink? There is no way that I am going to allow you to put my club at risk.” You snap back, shoving a water bottle into his hand. 

“You’re really pretty. Did you know that?” He giggles, “You’d even be prettier if you were to wear something designer, like some Chanel or some Vivienne Westwood. You should let me buy you some, sometime.”

“You're drunk.”  You scoff, shaking your head. 

“Pff! I am not drunk, well, drunk enough to not recognize that you're pretty when you're cursing me out. You’re, like, really pretty when you do it. But, I do think you’d be prettier if you did in something vintage.” He rambles on, the dopey grin on his face growing. 

“You’re drunk.” You state bluntly, rolling your eyes. 

"Again, with assuming that I am drunk."

Sitting back in his seat, he watches you pour out his whiskey into the sink, filling the cup with water. Unable to resist, he rolls his eyes hard a the sight of your routine. This happened almost every time, like clock work. He'd make a ass of himself, you'd assume he was drunk, pour out his drink and serve him water. It was oddly comforting. You cared, or at least it felt like you had cared for him. Even though a tiny part of him knew that you only cared for your club and the lawsuit that could happen. Still, he choose to believe that you cared for him.

"Let me..Let me take you out, just one date? We don't even need to kiss or hold hands." He attempts to negotiate, "I'll take you to the movies we can watch a nice film and just talk."

"I do not think that this is in your vocabulary." You scoff, placing the glass in front of him.

"And you know my vocabulary, now?" He scoffs back, mimicking your face playfully.

"I know people like you, your not that special or hard to read." You argues, "You pretend to be perfect just to get me to let you in my bed."

"One movie, that's it. No funny business."

"I do not like movies." You shake your head, making him scowl.

"Then we can go to the park and talk, there's a farmer's market." He tries again, "Get something to eat."

Watching you shake your head with a bitter chuckle, he cracks a smile, fingers drumming against the bar top. You may have been mocking him. Or maybe he was just high off the smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne that was thick in the club. But, just for a moment it all felt real. Like you cared, like you would consider it and accept.

"You're not giving up, are you?" You ask, lifting your gaze up to him.

"I will, if you ask me too."

"And..And if I want you to take me on a million dollar shopping spree?" You ask, the curiosity in your voice clear.

"I'd take you on a ten million one." He states without hesitation.

Watching you chew on your bottom lip, he waits, not daring to say another thing. He'd fear that if he say anything else it would made you rethink everything. That you'd call for security. Drumming his fingers on the bar top, you roll your eyes hard, making his heart sink. Cowering in his seat, he loose his confidence, his shoulders shagging. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tries to shrug it off, scoffing. He didn't care? Why would he? It wasn't that big of a deal.

"I get off in an hour, stay and wait or don't." You mumble walking away, "I don't care."

---

[featherandferns]

JJ x feminist reader when Kamala loses

bro don't even I can't fucking believe it. I'm so sorry american pals and gals, my heart actually bleeds for u (if you're a trump supporter respectfully depart from my blog, I hate him <3)

"No."

"What the fuck-"

"No, this can't be happening-"

"What the actual fuck-"

"No!"

It's like your body is possessed. You stand to your feet and stare at the television like you're watching a train wreck happen before your eyes. And you are. Because Kamala lost, and Trump won.

"And the forty-seventh president of the United States-" the stiff faced newsreader relays "-is Donald J. Trump."

"Fuck!" JJ shouts. He grabs for his beer bottle and lurches it towards the television. The glass shatters against the wall. You drop back down onto the sofa as if you're legs have lost all their strength. Your head falls into your hands and your eyes squeeze shut. It's like a nightmare. This can't be happening.

"This is fucking rigged! It's fucking rigged, I swear to God!" JJ is rambling, angry and heartbroken, almost as much as you. His arm flails out to the television as if personally condemning it for giving this news. "He's a fucking criminal! A fucking criminal and he gets voted in again!"

But it scares you. Scares you in a way that JJ doesn't understand, a way that he would never understand. He lost the power once before, let it slip through his fingers, and you have an awful feeling that he's not going to make that mistake again. Roe versus Wade flashes through your head. Every pregnancy scare you've ever shared with JJ now comes with that extra, looming concern that if you are, if it is real, then you don't have any choice. Well, you do - you have the choice to risk an infection or even death whilst taking autonomy over your body and life. But what next? What could Trump possibly know of what it is to be a woman in America? What was he going to take from the people next?

JJ's arms wrap around you and he tugs you into his side. He presses his face into your hair and plants a kiss to your cheek.

"I'm so sorry."

Tears well into your eyes. "I fucking hate him, JJ."

"I know-"

"No," you snap, "you don't know, JJ. You can hate him but not like I do. Not like we do. I mean, the stuff he's said about women. The stuff he's done-"

You lift your head and meet JJ's eyes. There's the anger there, the rage held back by his sympathy. His jaw is tight but his lips are downturned. He nods. Sighing, you rub at your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't snap at you."

"Nah, I get it. It's scary."

"It's fucking terrifying," you agree quietly.

JJ presses a kiss to your forehead and you let yourself melt into him. The two of you sit like that on the sofa for a long, long moment. The television rambles in the background, reciting which state voted which party, and you want to scream. It was so close that you could almost taste it. A female president. Wouldn't that have been incredible? A female's perspective. A female in power. A female for all the other little girls to look up to, to dream to be.

"Next time," JJ reassures, as if reading your thoughts like a teleprompter. "I promise it'll happen soon."

[grapejuicestyless]

Stupid F-ing Tattoo

JJ Maybank x Fem!reader

Summery: Y/n and JJ both had a few things in common. One, love didn’t exist. And two, they both wanted her dead.

She wasn’t dead, but sometimes, he wished she was.

It was honestly fucked up, there was no silver lining. She hadn’t wronged him, or cheated, or lied. She was as guilty as a fish, and he was the shark. But he still wished she was dead.

Sometimes, JJ wondered if she wished the same thing. If some nights, if she ever were to by chance hear his laughter in a passing moment, maybe with his head hung out the back window of the Twinkie like she used to do, or in a lazy jog away from the cops, he wondered if she wished he would also, drop off the face of the earth to give her some peace.

Then he would remember that even though it didn’t feel like it, he had won. Because she had no peace, and he was certain she never would. While he was up all night wishing her to be gone, she was up all night praying for the same thing.

She often told him that the only things keeping her going were him and her dog, but mostly her dog. An old white dog, a stray she’d taken in when she was merely seven. He was as crusty as they get, and while he and his friends often joked about how gross the old thing was, she happily scratched behind his ears and reminded him of how good he was always.

But the dog was getting old, and JJ had long been extracted from her life. Sometimes he wondered if his prayers meant something, and then he would get on his knees and take them all back in a guilty sob. Because JJ didn’t want her to die, he just hated the fact that he had fallen in love with someone who couldn’t fathom love more than he ever doubted it.

JJ felt like an asshole. What kind of person prays for another persons death? Especially someone like her?

He figured he liked her so much because they were so alike. Like the seasons, they were the coolest winters and the sweltering summer all at once. They were so close, yet so far. Like January and December. Born with the same love and loyalty, but destined to fall apart, prophets forced to be divided.

His finger hovered over her contact every night, but every time he thought of how she would answer, and his tongue would go dry. She would probably only say hello, and he would say it back, and the line would go quiet for a few minutes, just breathing in each others inhales, aligning his breath to hers, and then she would ask him why he was calling. He would say he didn’t know, but he hoped she was well, and she would wish the same for him because she always did, and she always meant it more because she never wished that he was dead. Then, she would ask if it was okay to let him go, and he would ramble about something and how it was all dumb to begin with. She would listen and then the line would go dead. Dead like how he sometimes wanted her.

He couldn’t bear the idea of letting her go again, even if he didn’t realize he had the first time.

They had just gotten matching tattoos. “P4L” poked into their ankles until the skin swelled red and even air burned. They were fucked, and it was a dumb idea.

JJ said it was the stupidest fucking tattoo he’d ever gotten. She had laughed, playfully pushing his arm away and setting the needle down.

“You don’t have any other tattoos.” She reminded him softly, eyes shining in the moonlight. The twinkles reminded him of the north star, and he felt that he too found home in the same way.

“Not yet.” He promised her, his fingers slotting between hers. “I’m gonna get your name tattooed right across my palm so I can hold you eternity.” JJ smiled, proud at his use of larger words. He’d felt like a poet then, smiling from ear to ear at himself, a dork by textbook definition.

“Well, then I’m going to get your name tattooed on my lips, so I have every reason to talk about you.” She promised him, and JJ remembered the look in her eyes, he knew it from the way John B looked at Sarah and the way Pope’s dad looked at his mom. He knew it was love.

He should never have confessed it.

He knew better than anyone that her mothers neglect had beaten her heart black and blue, and her cousins hatred towards her and her friends who had bullied her, he knew that much like him, love was a construct of some sort of fantasy, a promise of forever that could never be fulfilled, because eventually, someone has to leave.

She laughed, and then she cried. She promised JJ that she also loved him, loved him like a dog loved its owner, unwavering and loyal. But there was no way in hell she could ever love him the ways he wanted, and that hurt JJ because he had spent weeks working up the courage to even come to terms with his very real feelings.

“I can’t love you, JJ. I do, but I can’t because I can’t even promise myself that forever. I’ll break my own heart and I’ll blame you.” She had explained with tears streaming down her face. He regretted the way he yelled at her.

They never spoke again. His best friend, and the love of his life, her voice became a concept in his mind, and he swore that he had forgotten the sweetness of her smell. He hated that because that meant he was just like everyone else. Just another person who would miss her when she went.

So, he started wishing death on her. More for himself, until it became a prayer for her. She never laughed anymore, never smiled. When he saw her from afar, he’d noticed that she’d gone back to her friends she hated because suffering is better than loneliness when all you can think about is the quickest way to go.

He saw a girl floating in the ocean the a few days into the summer, her hair resembled Y/n’s and her eyes did too. It was only when he saw the way she seemed to fold herself into the water he knew it was her because only she would have the drive to try and let the ocean swallow her whole.

JJ ran as fast as he could out, wading through the crashing waves until he could wrap his arms around her. She was wet, cold, and limp. A hollow version of the woman she once was. It reminded JJ that she was just a girl, the same age as him, and he once again, felt guilty for ever wishing death on her.

When he laid her in the sand, he knew two things.

One, on her skin, she had another small tattoo scribbled down to memorize her love forever. His name, just two little letters, the same one, poked into her shoulder in the same font as their matching tattoo.

“Stupid fucking tattoo.” He cried, gritting his teeth together, his hands searching her body for any warmth he could cling to, a sign that maybe he hadn’t seen her too late.

The second thing he knew, through his salty tears and guilty heart, was something he prayed he would never have to witness, but something he had always wished for.

His prayers had been answered.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Self Harm Mentioned/Implied

AN: next update our ladies will have a proper reunion but first tree farm tree farm! (Even though only the poor kids- and Bob- are the only ones super excited about it)

Transcript under the cut

Nancy Narrates: [All those years I’ve spent yearning, wanting, my whole self calling for her—and now she’s here]

Nancy Narrates: [This isn’t a dream. She’s here. I can feel the warmth in her cheek]

Nancy: I- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I don’t know why I did that. I shouldn’t have-

Vanessa: [laughs] It’s ok, Nancy! It’s good to see you too.

Vanessa: Wow, look at you. You’re all grown up, aren’t you?

Nancy: I- I-

Vanessa: Still filled to the brim with tears too.

Nancy: [softly] Sorry. I thought.. I thought I’d never see you again.

Vanessa: 16 years is a long time. I was worried you would have forgotten all about me.

Nancy: I could never forget you.

Vanessa: I’ve come all this way to see you.

Nancy: Have you really?

Vanessa: I know it’s been years, but I was hoping we could reconnect. I’m staying at the Fyres Hotel. Maybe we could have dinner there tonight. Catch up?

Nancy Narrates: [I had to physically restrain myself from saying yes. I realized, after all these years, I still would have followed her anywhere...but it can’t be this way. Not anymore..]

Nancy: [exhales] I can’t. I’m sorry. I had plans.

Vanessa: Ah! Well. I did pop in last minute. Maybe some other-

Nancy: You could come with me! I mean, If you like? We’re supposed to get a Christmas tree for the house; trying to set new traditions and what not.

Nancy: It’s silly but it’s important to them- my sons. I have two boys, by the way. I have to do this for them but- you’re here and I don’t know if I can see you leave again. God, am I rambling too much?

Vanessa: You want me to go tree shopping with you and your children?

Nancy: [blushes] Will you?

Vanessa: Lead the way.

-

Malcolm: What’s taking that lady so long!

Jonathan: Should we try and call mom again?

Geoffrey: [hums noncommittally]

Malcolm: He’s not even listening!

Bob: Hellooo? Earth to Geoffrey?

Bob: Iggy say, ‘what’s eatin’ ya, Uncle G?’

Iggy: [coos]

Geoffrey: Heh, sorry! Sorry. I guess I got alot on my mind right now.

Eliza: Is everything ok?

Geoffrey: Oh, yeah! Yeah, yeah- well...I guess I’m thinking about Nance?

Eliza: What’s wrong with Nancy?

Geoffrey: I’ve been thinking about what happened on our anniversary trip.

Bob: Yeah? What was it?

Malcolm: Mommy’s here!! Mommy’s here!!

Malcolm: Er, who’s that with my mommy?

Bob: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!

Eliza: [whistles] Oh, wow! Who is that? Is she a model?: Well, I’ll be damned! Talk about a throwback!

Geoffrey: Vanessa Villareal?

Nancy: These are my sons, Jonathan and Malcolm.

Vanessa: Oh! Oh, Nancy, they are beautiful.

Malcolm: Who are you, lady!

Nancy: Don’t be rude, darling. Vanessa is- was- she’s my..

Vanessa: I’m your mother’s best friend.

Jonathan: I’m Jonathan, but call me Johnny. This loud mouth is Malcolm.

Vanessa: Johnny it is. You must get those cool, blue eyes from your mom’s brother.

Jonathan: You knew my Uncle Nathan?

Vanessa: No, but I saw a picture once, a long time ago.

Vanessa: [turns to Malcolm] And you look just like your mother.

Malcolm: Are you a movie star too?

Vanessa: [chuckles] No, I’m not a movie star.

Malcolm: Then who are you lady?

Vanessa: I’m your Auntie V. You can call me that, if you like.

Malcolm: Aunt V, are you gonna pick out a tree with us?

Vanessa: You bet. You should know, I have a keen eye.

Nancy: Sorry I’m late..

Geoffrey: Better late than never. I see you had an eventful day.

Malcolm: No more talking! Let’s go already!

Jonathan: I want to find our tree with mom!

Malcolm: Well I’m taking daddy!

Bob: Alright! Long time no see, VV! Man, it’s been a while, huh?

Vanessa: Just V is fine. Billy, right?

Bob: [sighs] It’s Bobby. This is my wife, Eliza and this cool guy is Iggy.

Vanessa: [sheepishly] Right. Nice to meet you. Wasn’t there another one of you?

Bob: [chuckles] Cassie. We still keep in touch. She’s a travel blogger now. And I’m sure you remember ol’ Geoffrey here.

Geoffrey: Good seeing you, Vanessa.

Vanessa: Likewise.

Bob: Heck yeah! Let the festivities begin!

-

Jonathan: This one! This is the perfect tree, right, Mom?

Nancy: Mhm. Yes, that’s nice- I’ll be right back.

Jonathan: Oh..

Bob: Alright, what’s going on? You can tell me, it’s just us guys now, and Iggy here is great at keeping secrets.

Geoffrey: Nance was so sad on our trip, sadder than usual. I haven’t seen her so low since- well, since Vanessa left. And she kept apologizing to me.

Bob: You’ve mentioned before she gets in a mood sometimes, right?

Geoffrey: Well, yeah... that’s not all. I saw these bruises on the inside of her thigh.

Bob: [eyes widen] You think she’s hurting herself?

Geoffrey: Is that it, you think? At first I thought they were- you know, hickies?

Bob: Whoa. Hickies? On Nancy?

Geoffrey: [snorts] That’s crazy, right?

Bob: You should talk to her. If she is harming herself, you should get her help, bud.

Geoffrey: And if it’s not that...

Bob: Then, that’s another kind of conversation. But this is Nancy we’re talking about. You two have been bit by the love bug since high school. I can’t imagine her having an affair with some other guy.

-

Nancy: Hi.

Vanessa: Hi.

Nancy: Sorry if I’m being...odd. I guess, I’m still getting used to seeing you.

Vanessa: I don’t think you’re being odd. I think you’re being you.

Nancy: Is that a bad thing?

Vanessa: [giggles] No, not at all. You haven’t changed and it’s refreshing.

Nancy: Ah. Well. You haven’t either. I mean..you still feel like my Vanessa.

Nancy Narrates: [All those questions I craved answers for came rushing back to me the more I looked at her. Was my loving her just a girlish memory of our past? Did she ever hear my voicemail? Was it worth mentioning after almost 2 decades apart? After I’ve already married and had children? After I’ve sworn to dedicate my all to them-]

Vanessa: So, about that dinner. Are you free tonight?

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 5

James Potter x Reader

Summary: The search for your mystery suitor draws to a close as you finally make an advance on your lovesick admirer…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, idiots in love, oc!friends, lovesick!james, no use of Y/N, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, secret admirer trope, strangers to friends to lovers, James gets his confidence back, aggressive flirting, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 2.6K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Hi boys, hi Jamie!” James almost fell off his chair, gripping the table and steadying himself. Sirius snorted at the flustered boy, stumbling and flailing at the nickname.

You had approached the Marauders that morning with books piled in hand, fulfilling Remus’ offer to study with them once again that weekend. With Charlie and Hope using their free time to visit Hogsmeade, you were left to flirt with the young Potter all you desired.

You had told your friends about the growing suspicion surrounding the boy that morning, and James was about to find out just how dedicated you were to the investigation.

James watched you eagerly, eyes wide at the sight of you sitting next to him once again. “Hi, love,” he sighed, still staring in awe at your freshly washed hair and bright smile. While he tried to match your style with the affectionate nickname, his voice was laced with shaking nerves as he sought that courage that came so naturally around other girls.

The other boys were openly snickering at his lovestruck face, assuming you had caught onto James’ enamoured gestures by now. Remus pushed the History of Magic textbook between the two of you, though he didn’t say a word about actually using it. He was far too fascinated with the promising tension developing between you and his friend.

“I’ve been having the most eventful week, lads,” you began, motioning for the boys to lean in closer, with James inching his chair across to touch yours. “Someone in this school has been sending me love letters.”

After a beat of shock, all four boys started rambling exclamations of surprise and curiosity, as if they didn’t already know about your secret admirer. James gulped at your confession, mentally cursing himself for waiting just too long to react naturally. “Oh, really! That’s news! Do you, um…have any idea who it is?”

You met the boy’s gaze and whispered, “I have my theories…I mean, so far we’ve deduced it’s a boy with high intelligence, a good heart, and a crippling obsession over me.” James’ breath hitched, eyes flickering from yours to Remus’, before landing back at you.

“Well, I can’t blame him love! Who wouldn’t be obsessed with a pretty thing like you,” Sirius smirked, “In fact, I have some theories of my own about who this boy could be…”

“Well, my suspects have been narrowed down to about five Gryffindor boys, and I’m really hoping it’s the cutest one,” you held back a giggle at James’ parted lips. He prayed to Merlin that you could possibly consider him an option, let alone think that he’s the one you found the most attractive.

“But to be honest, with the way he writes about me I think I’d jump him the second he reveals himself to me, handsome or not,” you said noncommittally.

In that moment, James threw all his reservations out the window. He no longer cared if you noticed his obsession with you, the lingering stares, the flustered reactions. He wanted all of you, and he just had to do something about it. There was no point in letting his nerves dictate his behaviour around you, not after you had just given him the James Potter Flirting Experience™ opportunity of a lifetime.

“Well, say you did care about what the boy looks like…what’s your type?” James leaned closer to you, a softened grin lingering on his lips as he spoke teasingly.

You gasped, clearly shocked by his sudden change of behaviour, but responded nonetheless. “Oh I don’t know, probably…” you looked James up and down, slowly taking in his form.

“Someone tall and athletic. I definitely prefer kind boys, but he can have a little mischief to him. Probably someone with darker hair- make that curly dark hair. Light brown eyes have always caught my fancy, oh! And I love a good pair of glasses, especially when they come with a big brain and a handsome face behind them.”

James was only inches away from your face now, his small smile had grown into a stretching, flirtatious grin, smirking at you with red cheeks. His hair was curling around his smitten face as he bent to meet your eyes, forearms crossed and resting on the table.

Three mouths hung open at the explicit display of attraction in front of them, eyes sliding back and forth between you and James, as if following a thread of affection forming between you two.

“Well, are there any boys on your list that might…match that description?” Peter squeaked to break the tense silence. You held James’ gaze in your own, smiling innocently at the boy like you hadn’t just made his entire week.

“There is one, he’s my primary suspect. Though, I’m not sure there’s much evidence to prove it’s him sending me the letters…” You broke his gaze, finally looking around at the other curious faces surrounding you. “It could just be wishful thinking.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

After finally making some productive efforts to study, you and the boys began claiming your belongings that were scattered across the table and making your way to dinner.

Walking down the hallway, James matched your pace and gazed at you through his thick lenses. “So, I know you and your friends normally sit at the end of the table during meals, but we were wondering if you lot wanted to sit with us tonight,” he quickly explained as the Great Hall came into view. “I…we really enjoy your company, and honestly we regret not befriending you sooner.”

Remus and Sirius had their backs turned to you and James, though you had a feeling they were quietly giggling together at his attempted invite. “Only if your friends agree, of course! No pressure…” he trailed off, looking anywhere but your eyes as his constant fear of rejection returned and sparked nervousness in his unsure voice.

“I’d love to sit with you! I mean, all of you. I’ll grab my friends,” you replied as the doors to the hall opened and you made your way inside.

“Brilliant.”

Scurrying over to your friends, you cleared your throat and made your announcement. “My dearest, loyal companions. For one night, and one night only…can we PLEASE sit with the Marauders? I think James and I are really making some progress here and they’re honestly not that bad!” Ok, maybe more of a blurted confession than an announcement, but the intention was there.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to it, if it means so much to one of my best friends. But what happened to the Gryffindor ego that seems to follow those boys around everywhere they go?” Charlie asked, a tinge of confusion lacing her giggling voice.

“I haven’t quite figured that bit out yet, but I think there’s more to them than meets the eye. They’re actually quite lovely,” you explained, watching your friends slowly stand from their places at the table and fall into step with you, plates in hand, agreeing in their trust of your judgement.

“You know,” Hope whispered as you approached the group, “I’m really proud of you. You’re opening up, it’s refreshing to see. And you’re starting to convince me that this house might actually be not so bad, after all. You’re really brave.”

You grinned at the girl, arm taking her shoulders in your grasp and squeezing in appreciation. “That means a lot, Hope, thank you.”

“Hey! We didn’t think you’d come!” Remus exclaimed as the three of you piled into the space saved next to James. “Although, James did get you a plate of food in anticipation.”

You glanced at the boy’s bashful smile, then down at the plate he placed in front of you. Charlie, Hope, and the remaining Marauders shared knowing looks.

“Oh! This is my favourite! How did you-“

“I see you take a serving every night-“

“Thank you, Jamie, you’re so kind…”

The nickname came to you naturally as your rambling distracted you from considering what you were saying. His cheeks glowed with that familiar red tint, grinning at you with squinted eyes and a puffed chest.

The conversation carried naturally between James’ friends and your own, all giggling and smiling at each other’s witty remarks. As the night continued, you found yourself slowly leaning more into James, a service to his heart which he gratefully accepted with open arms.

His arm moved to rest across your back, hand pressed into the seat beside you and inching you slightly forward on your chair, a position that almost mimicked an embrace without being too daring.

You felt warm near his toned chest, glancing at him affectionately every now and then. You missed every time he glanced back with that same lovesick expression.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask! Seeing as we have a curfew for the next few days, and the History of Magic assignment is due next week, I thought you might want to pop by our dorm to study sometime.” Remus had been such a supportive new friend towards you over the past few days, intentional or not, so you nodded eagerly at his proposition.

Walking back to your dorm after a long dinner filled with laughs and smiles, you and your friends wished the others goodnight as you parted ways. Your eyes lingered on James, as his did you, before turning to your group with a smile. The silence only lasted a matter of seconds.

“OH MY GOD HE’S OBSESSED WITH YOU!”

“Charlie! Keep your voice down!”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James started jogging to keep up with Peter and Sirius as they left the grounds of Hogwarts. Escaping the school was a three man job, much to James’ disappointment. Remus was left in the dorm to study with you, meaning he was obligated to join the trip. What could be more important than spending time with you?

“C’mon, Prongs, head up! You can get some sweets to woo her with on our way back,” Sirius reassured him. The days spent studying with you meant the group had missed the school allowed trip to Hogsmeade, something James insisted would be worth sacrificing every butterbeer for.

“We’ll be quick, I promise! You know I can’t survive without sugar in my system!” Sirius continued rambling as the three entered Honeydukes just before closing.

James quickly gathered a bag of chocolate frogs, buying way too many for just one person so he’d have an excuse for offering them to you. They quickly payed and dashed out of the store as the workers began to turn off the lights and lock the doors.

The walk back to Hogwarts was cold and windy, but James didn’t care. He’d get to spend time with you in the comfort of his own room, all the people he cared the most about in one place. He was planning how he would confess to you on the way back, playing out every scenario in his mind.

The best case in his imagination was simply holding up a blue envelope, wiggling his eyebrows, and grinning at you like a fool while you jumped into his arms and kissed him to death.

James had a stupid look of burning adoration on his face as the three finally entered the common room and headed to their dorm.

“Honey, I’m home!” Sirius called to Remus as he opened the door. “We brought necessary supplies and-“ He was cut short by the sight in front of him. Slowly, he inched further into the room, rounding the corner and letting Peter in with a gasp. Peter then made room for James in the doorway, glancing at him with sympathy.

The chocolate frogs dropped to the floor.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

The night was quiet in the Marauders’ dorm room. Remus had taken his seat on his bed as you were sat at his desk. The soft scribbling sounds of pen against paper filled the otherwise silent space as the two of you enjoyed the warmth of your newfound friendship.

After a few hours of comparing notes, quizzing each other, and chatting about your friends, Remus stood from his bed. “I might go get changed and wash up, you need anything?”

You glanced at your almost empty pot of ink, then to the fading pigment leaking from your quill. “Do you have any spare ink?”

“I don’t have any, but James definitely would. He wouldn’t mind you using it, Merlin, he’d probably thank you for touching his possessions. Try his desk over there,” he nodded across the room, leaving you to search for supplies with a chuckle.

Moving to James’ desk, you carefully shifted through his neatly organised stationary. Textbooks lined the point where the desk met the wall, and you spotted an unopened bottle of ink right next to the stack.

As you reached for the bottle, you noticed something sticking out of the closest textbook, one for your shared Potions class. The paper was dusted in a light blue shade.

You shouldn’t look through other people’s belongings, you thought, and bit back the curiosity nipping at your integrity.

You turned back to Remus’ desk, ink in hand, knocking the textbooks over in the process.

“Godric! So clumsy…” you mumbled, picking up two textbooks, a few pages of notes and…a baby blue envelope.

You stared at the material in your hand, brain refusing to believe what your heart knew to be true. Your eyes slowly drifted from the envelope in one hand to the notes in the other. The stationary, the handwriting, the nervous interactions…it all made sense.

“Honey, I’m home! We brought necessary supplies and-“ Your eyes met the source of the sound, Sirius standing in the doorway with his mouth agape. He slowly entered the room, followed by Peter, then by James.

Your face glowed with a guilty expression as James dropped his most recent purchase. You stared at him in confusion, which he returned with a look of embarrassment. You then remembered to address the elephant in the room: the envelope in your hand.

“Oh, Merlin, James- I’m so sorry! I ran out of ink and Remus said you wouldn’t mind if I used yours while he went to wash up, so I took it and knocked over all your books in the process, it slid out and I didn’t know what to do, it’s all my fault! I’m so sorry, I didn’t want it to happen like this…”

James’ expression shifted sympathetically at your rambling, composing himself and moving closer to your worried form. The other boys quietly walked back out of the room, giving you some privacy as they shut the door behind them.

“No, darling, don’t blame yourself, it’s not your fault,” he said with faltering confidence, “I meant to tell you, I really did. I was going to talk to you after my next Quidditch match - assuming we would win - because I needed the confidence to tell you. I’m so sorry, love, I really am. I hope you aren’t…disappointed…” he looked at his shoes, voice nothing more than a whisper.

“Did you mean it?”

“W-what?”

“Everything you wrote to me, did you mean it?” You clarified, a hopeful feeling washing over you. James gulped, shifting his weight between his feet as he blushed harder than ever before. “I meant every word.” It came out as a hoarse whisper as he choked on his nerves.

“Good, because I really like you, James. I honestly always have and I hadn’t even said a word to you until this year- But I desperately wanted to believe you were behind all of this, because I think you’re so charming and smart and, surprisingly, very kind.” You caught your breath after your confession, heart racing as a proud, self-assured smile emerged on your otherwise shy face.

Silence fell upon the room. You searched each other’s gaze for any evidence of ingenuity or doubt. You found none. James eventually made a sound from his parted lips.

“Willyougooutwithme!?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

AN: Oh my god this is a long one! But you KNOW I had to make some serious progress on this relationship >:3 I hope this reveal hit the spot! I’m going to be a bit busy over the next few days but I’ll definitely try to post the next part ASAP (as soon as I’ve written it ;-;) Again I’d just like to say thank you so much for all the love on this series! This is my first real writing project in a while so it’s been a blessing to have so much support so early on in my blog’s lifetime <3 Be sure to comment to be added to the tag list and like/reblog if you enjoyed!!

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Tag List:

@1-queenofpotatoes-1

@caspiankingofnarnia

@thesuitelifeofafangirl

@moonydoodlez

@fionnalopez

@kawaiiarbitervoid

@kc2sstuff

@rafeyswrd

@mads12043

@spicybearnaise

@ch3rry-vine

@probabydeadbynow

@ilovejamespottersomuch

@mqg125

@sofiacblair

[flowersforbucky]

sucker for you

peter maximoff x reader

word count: 1.2k

i can't stop thinking about how peter would react to reader taking his lollipop from him and putting it in her mouth so here's a little drabble about that

a/n: i should be working on this bucky piece that i started like 3 weeks ago but i just needed to get this out of my system first

warnings/tags: language, use of alcohol (everyone is 21+!!), no use of y/n, peter's pov, and some ✨️tension✨️

Peter didn't know it was possible to get so flustered over a human being.

He's never exactly considered himself to be a ladies man, but around you? He's hopeless. A lost cause. Every time he's near you, it feels like his first very day ever interacting with another person.

From the way that your smile reaches your eyes whenever he makes you laugh with a stupid joke to the way that you always smell sweeter than the candy that he eats too much of, he's been a goner for you since the day he first met you.

And the worst part? You seem to know exactly how to make him blush.

As per usual on Friday nights, yours and Peter's group of friends is hanging out in the woods behind the mansion. You're all lounging around a bonfire that Scott works to keep going strong, talking amongst yourself in pairs.

"You know, I heard Warren telling Scott that he's planning on asking you to the winter gala," Jean snickers to you.

Peter isn't trying to eavesdrop, really. Jean just has zero volume control when she has any amount of alcohol in her system. He'd be able to hear every word she's saying even if you and her weren't sitting right next to him.

"What?" Jean demands when you offer no response other than some giggles and a shake of your head. "You've already turned two people down. You're kinda running low on options at this point.”

He twists the stem of the cherry flavored lollipop that he's sucking on, trying and failing to focus on whatever it is that Kurt's rambling on about. His body is angled away from yours, but he can feel the vibration of your low laughter from where your shoulder rests against his.

Peter had heard that you've been asked to the gala that Charles throws in the name of the X-Men every year. He couldn't lie, he was relieved when he'd found out that you had shot down the suitors - not that he'd ever have the balls to ask you himself. He had no desire to be added to the list of people that you've rejected to a glorified prom.

“So? I can go alone. Going alone is better than going with anyone who isn't the person that I actually want to go with,” you answer with a shrug of your shoulders.

Peter tenses at your words, his stomach doing a somersault.

“And who would that be?” Jean asks in a teasing voice, almost like she already knows the answer.

Before you can respond, Peter quickly shoots to his feet. Kurt comes to a sudden stop in the middle of a sentence, and both you and Jean turn to look up at him from where you still sit on the old, fallen tree that is being used as a bench.

“Where're you going?” You ask. Peter knows it's probably wishful thinking, but he can't help but think that there's a hint of disappointment in your voice.

“Back to the mansion. I've gotta take a whiz,” he retorts, hoping he sounds casual. Truthfully, he can't stand the thought of having to hear you say some dude's name in response to Jean's question.

“Since when are you above pissing in the woods?” Scott laughs as he piles some more branches onto the bonfire.

Peter shoots him an obscene gesture, about to bolt in the direction of the mansion when he feels your hand wrap around his from beneath him. You begin to get up, and he instinctively helps pull you into a standing position.

“I'll walk back with you,” you tell him as you drop his hand. “I'm going to grab a few more beers.” You smile at him in the orange glow of the fire and he forgets how to speak. He motions as if to say after you and you begin walking in the direction of the mansion.

He's fully aware that he could have the two of you back to the school in a split-second, but despite how nervous he gets around you, he'd never pass up the opportunity to spend a few moments alone with you. Living here, you're both almost always surrounded by other people. If it's not Jean, it's Storm. If it's not Storm, it's Raven or Hank. If it's it's not –

“I just had to get away from that,” you sigh when the two of you are out of earshot from the others. “I love her, but Jean can be kind of relentless,” you add with a small laugh.

“You can say that again,” he agrees, his voice mumbled from the lollipop stuffed between his teeth and his check. “Just the other day she was saying that I should ask someone.”

“Yeah?” You quip, a curious edge to your tone. “And are you going to?”

“Nah,” Peter shrugs, trying to play it cool. “Like you said, it's better to go alone than to go with someone who isn't the person you really like.”

“So what's stopping you from asking her? Is she already going with someone else?”

“No,” he answers, coming to a stop in the middle of the moonlit path the two of you are walking on. “She's not. But she's already turned down basically everyone in the school, so I don't think I stand much of a chance.”

Sometimes Peter starts a sentence without knowing where it’s going, but right now even he's shocked by his words. He's not quite sure where the bravery came from, but he can't exactly take it back now. You're not stupid - he knows you can read between the lines to deduce who he's talking about.

You come to a halt, turning back to look at him. He offers a small, nervous smirk and resists the urge to dash away before you can reply to his confession.

“Three people isn't basically everyone in the school,” you chuckle with one of those grins that could bring Peter to his knees. You take a few slow steps towards him, stopping when your chest is just inches from his. Your gaze flickers from his eyes and down to his mouth before you reach a hand up to his face and pinch the stem of his lollipop between your thumb and index finger, plucking it from his mouth.

His eyes widen in surprise, all but bulging out of his head when you pop what's left of the red lollipop into your own mouth. You swirl it around in your mouth, your plump lips wrapped around the stick.

“But for what it's worth, the whole school could ask me and there's only one person who would get a yes out of me.”

You pull the lollipop from between your lips and hold it back up to Peter's mouth, resting it against his bottom lip until he parts them - to speak or to accept the sucker, he's not sure. But he doesn't do anything to stop you when you guide it back inside his mouth, the flavor of the cherry candy and your saliva infiltrating his senses when it meets his tongue.

“Just in case you were wondering,” you shrug, and turn to continue your walk back to the mansion as if you didn't just make his heart combust in his chest.

He speeds after you, deciding that maybe Jean has a point - maybe he should ask someone after all.

•••••

thanks for reading! this was my first time writing for peter, i'd very much appreciate comments/reblogs 💕

[gingersnapwolves]

so I had some thoughts on the burnout post but didn't want to hijack it so this is just my own rambling attempt to process the feelings I've been struggling with for two days which obviously not everyone wants to read, thus my putting a read more

I've been crying off and on for the past couple days which is really no surprise, and I've been trying to avoid political news and political posts. In fact, after this I plan to hide the political tags for a while, heavily curate my Reddit experience, and then do I don't even know what with all my new free time

because I don't talk about it a lot here, this is my fandom space, my casual space, and I'll sometimes post about personal stuff but almost never politics, but I am actually very political. 'member of multiple political mailing lists, have marched in many protests, write postcards to swing state voters' political. and I want to talk a little about why this defeat feels different. because this crushed me in a way that 2016 did not.

the thing is. over the past few days I've seen a lot of people talking about how if you didn't realize Trump was going to win, you live in a bubble. and I think to a certain extent that's true. we all have our little echo chambers. but for me, at least, and a lot of the people I know, it wasn't just that. it was this core certainty that Trump would not win, could not win, because surely our country wasn't like that. surely our fellow Americans were not like that. it wasn't about competency or about policy. it was about basic human decency. and that's what I feel like we lost. not an election. but any remaining belief we had that people are basically good.

because it seems they're not. at least not around here. the cold hard fact at the end of the day is that the majority of our country looked at a senile, racist, fascist criminal grifter [eta: how could I forget rapist in that description?] and either actively wanted him to hold the highest office in the land, or just didn't care whether or not he did. they know exactly what he's going to do, and they're fine with it. and that hurts so much that it is nearly unbearable.

how do you move on from that? how do you cope with the fact that there's something so deeply rotten at the core of your fellow man? how do you deal with that? how do you fight back?

I am full of so much grief that I literally don't know where to put it.

so I don't want to fight anymore. I'm tired. I'm nauseated. I'm angry. But most of all, I'm sad. I can't do it right now. and I think that's probably okay. I think in six weeks or six months I'll feel differently. but right now I just can't do it. and I think the most important thing really can be to take a step back and focus on something else. because I know these feelings are not productive. I know that there are still good people out there and there are still things worth fighting for. but right now, all I feel is this aching chasm where my faith in humanity used to be.

so I'm unplugging - not from fandom or tumblr, but from politics and news - for at least a little while. sometimes that's the most important thing to do if you want to still be able to get out of bed in the morning.