seen from Brazil
seen from China
seen from Switzerland
seen from Japan
seen from China
seen from Tunisia
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Germany
seen from Slovakia
seen from Switzerland
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
seen from China
seen from Australia
stop putting ur shitty ass oc in the x reader tag
Me when y/n is acting like a little fucking child for male validation
FLINCHED - MULTI
-when his anger is taken out on the wrong place in the wrong time- angst
You heard the door slam before you saw him.
Heavy, rushed steps. Keys tossed onto the console. His bag hitting the floor with a thud that echoed down the hallway.
He didn’t even say hello.
You were already in the kitchen, apron still on, a dish towel over your shoulder and his favorite food still hot on the stove. You had candles lit — just two, small ones, nothing dramatic. You just… wanted to make him smile. You missed his smile.
So when he walked in, stiff-shouldered and scowling, you tried anyway.
“Hey, baby,” you said, gentle, trying to meet him where he was. “Rough day?”
He didn’t answer.
You took a step closer, hands still in the dish towel. “I made—”
“Why is it so fucking dark in here?” he snapped, voice sharp like glass. “I can’t even see anything—can you turn a goddamn light on for once?”
You froze, blinking.
“I— I just thought the candles would be—”
He scoffed, brushing past you, hand running through his hair, exasperated. “Jesus. I come home to this after the shit I’ve been through?”
You swallowed hard. “I didn’t know it would be this bad. I thought maybe—maybe it’d help. I made your favorite.”
You lifted the dish — still warm, perfectly plated, just the way he liked it. Your hands were trembling.
And maybe it was the wrong moment, or maybe he didn’t mean it at all, but he looked at it — looked at you — and said,
“I don’t need you hovering over me. I need space. Just—fuck. Stop trying so hard.”
Silence.
Your fingers shook.
Something in your chest cracked. Not loud — soft. Like the quiet break of something that had been held together too long.
“I was just trying to make you happy,” you whispered.
The dish clattered — not shattered, just dropped onto the counter as your hands fell away. Your breath hitched. The tears came faster than you could stop them.
And then he reached for you.
“Shit—wait, wait—baby, I didn’t mean—”
You flinched.
Like he’d slapped you. Like his voice alone had scorched the space between you.
his eyes widened. His hand froze midair.
You were already turning away — stumbling, shoulder brushing his as you ran past, up the stairs, into the bedroom, the soft sound of a door clicking shut behind you like a final period at the end of a sentence you didn’t want to write.
Downstairs, he stood in the kitchen. Staring at the plate you made. The food untouched. The candles still flickering softly. Pushing back the hair out his eyes
And all he could think was
she was scared. I made her fucking... flinch
TL: @samm1e13 @demiitria @syleepy @chaoslibra @bontenxo @pinkymangacaps @riinniies @samthesimp1 @sapphireluv @s4turnx1 @nevvynev @cookiesandcreammy @rinniebinniebay @ravenbc @kamelika @luvsymai @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @silverwings920 @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @yanderebluelockfan @valexqpt @bigclownshoes @rinniewinnie787 @satorella @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @mihyas-dieehefrau @ravenbc @shezuannn @greekyoghurtwithberries @laslowchan @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @yanderebluelockfan @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @valexqpt @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @ethxrxxlity
A/n: angst for the baddie that requested this
ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.
[Masterlist]
He doesn’t say “I love you” often.
He just brings home your favorite drink without asking.
He buys the ugly little pink plushie you pointed at one time three weeks ago and tosses it on the bed like it's no big deal. Doesn’t even look at you. Just mutters,
“Figured you’d like it. Don’t make it a thing.”
It is a thing. Your chest is full.
You once complained offhandedly about your favorite ramen spot being closed for the day.
The next day he made you ramen. From scratch. With a scowl on his face and flour on his nose.
When you get cold, he doesn’t ask. Just grumbles,
“Come here,” and throws a blanket over both of you. arm around your waist, hand rubbing your hip under the fabric.
When you’re sick, he doesn’t say a word. Just disappears and comes back with four bags of medicine, three different kinds of soup, and a plushie shaped like a strawberry cow.
The cashier asked if it was for his kid.
He said, “No. For my wife.” And then made direct eye contact until the guy stopped smiling.
He doesn’t show his love loudly. He just gives you the last bite of his food without asking. He puts himself between you and the street when you walk. He silently kneels to help you tie your shoe if you’re struggling with the laces. He gets irrationally angry if your socks are wet.
“Why didn’t you tell me your feet were cold? What am I here for then?”
And when you tell him you love him? He freezes for a second, ears going red. Then mutters, voice low,
“…You know I love you too. You always know.”
DESVYN
so starved for content I might go to the real hellsite (wattpad)
“i can fix her, i can fix him, i can fix them”
i think we need to work on you first.
I’m a world full of c.ai and wattpad warriors im forever a tumblr user 💔💔
ᯓ★ “please tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”
⋆˚꩜｡ pairing : fem!reader x bsf!JJ MAYBANK.
⋆˚꩜｡ summary : Apparently, the friction and feeling of you on his lap in the overfilled Twinkie was too much to handle. ꒰ wc .ᐟ 1.2 k ꒱
⋆˚꩜｡ warnings : vryy suggestive !! the most ima ever go broskis !! Other then that, enjoy mllll
The most normal thing to happen in the friend group is JJ flirting. He flirts Kiara, sometimes he flirts with Pope and John B, he pretty much flirts with anything that dares to walk within a fifteen meter radius around him. But the one person he flirts with the most often — and the most shamelessly — is you. Sometimes you flirt back, but usually you just roll your eyes and scrunch your nose at him. So you can only imagine his reaction when he asked “So princess, y’wanna sit on Papa J’s lap?” when the Twinkie was full, and you agreed. Like the words “yeah sure” physically came out of your mouth.
Pope and Kie looked at you like you’re mad; let’s face it, you sort of are.
Now you’re placed comfortably between your best friend’s thighs, with his large hands wrapped around your waist to keep you from slipping off, chatting happily with Sarah and John B in the front seats. The blonde’s switching from leaning back against the van all nonchalant, wearing his dumb smirk, to pressing his chest against your back and dipping his forehead to rest on your shoulder every few minutes. You don’t have a clue why he’s so agitated.
He gets even worse every time the Twinkie goes over a speed bump or a pothole: JJ grunts quietly under you, and tightens his clench around your flesh. You protest each time, turning yourself slightly to face him better — so he can get the full impact of your glare-pout combination — and complain about how hard his grip is getting. And each time, he just nods once and adjusts your placement over his lap. His eyes are hazy, and his jaw twitches; It’s like he’s not even paying attention to you and your disapproving comments, instead he looks like he’s focusing on something you can’t quite put a pin on.
After one particularly large lurch forward, JJ’s seemingly had enough of the brunettes borderline reckless driving. He sinks himself back into the seat, and leans slightly ahead — once again pinning his front against you — so he can get heard clearly: “Yo, JB? Y’think y’could drive a tad slower, ‘n’ maybe watch out for ‘em speed bumps?”
“What, you're getting a little motion sick, huh JJ?” you tease, lacing your words with a playfulness he usually mimics. But today he doesn’t. All he does today is murmur a quiet “Not exactly,” under his breath, and adjusts your position over himself again.
Why’s he being so pissy? Wasn’t he the one who offered his lap in the first place?? Fuck. You roll your eyes exasperatedly, going back to the conversation going on around you like normal.
Thing is, when you do turn back, your body obviously moves. The amount of friction between JJ’s and your own is tiny — absolutely minuscule — but it still draws an almost guttural groan from your best friend. You glance at him from the corner of your eye; you’re met with the sight of the blonde once again placing his head in your shoulder, biting at the inside of his cheek, with his eyes pressed tight together.
“Babe, ‘m beggin’ you, please stop movin’,” he murmurs. It’s almost a plea, a beg even. It causes your lips to curl upwards into a smile, because it’s honestly so amusing to you how receptive he’s being. You don’t hesitate to make it worse; you squirm around in this lap for a few beats, only wriggling around more as he wraps his around your waist to stop you while you hum, “Why? This too much f’youuuu?”
“Stop. Movin’. I ain’t kiddin’,” he whines. You finally give in, slouching against his front and pouting — not that he can see, he’s still forcing his eyes closed like he’s allergic to sunlight. You're quickly recovering, joining in with the rest of the pogues laughing and joking in the van, but you swear you hear your best friend grunt behind you and keep you lifted a few centimetres away from his lap. “Fuck.”
That's when you feel it: the unmistakable feeling of a tent forming in your best friend’s cargo shorts under you, pressing slightly against the curve of your ass. So that was what he was freaking out about?
“Hey Jayj?” You ask quietly, feeling your eyes widen as he only grows harder. He’s biting back another low groan, gnawing at the inside of his cheek and pressing his palms against your warm flesh, keeping you now locked in place. Judging by the slight squeal that had fallen out of your lips, he’s sure you’ve clocked onto everything. He hesitates in responding, but he does so anyway: “ … yeah?”
You’re also now significantly more hesitant to even utter something else – what if you move again and make the whole situation worse – but you have to anyway, right? You swallow once, trying not to listen to the blonde’s shallow breathing beneath you. “Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”
It’s easier to skirt around the bushes, and it’s easy for him to understand. It’s easy for anyone in the stuffy, crowded van to understand, that's why you purposefully lowered your voice to an almost inaudible volume.
“Hey— I tried, ‘kay? You ‘n’ your fuckin’ squirmmin’ didn’t help, like at all,” he whines, throwing his head back against the seat and staring up at the ceiling. He’s pretty much seeing stars by this point; he’s been pretty much obsessed with you since forever, thought about this exact situation maybe a total of a thousand times – maybe minus all the pogues surrounding you both – he’s jerked off to old instagram photos of you too many times to count. Hell, he’s had dreams about touching you, feeling you, tasting you. But for this to be happening now? It’s humiliating.
“What? ‘S JJ tryin’ to sneak his fingers under your shirt?” Kie quips from the other side of the Twinkie, noticing how hard JJ’s fingers are flexing against your torso. You glance towards her – hoping on everything she doesn’t notice how wide your eyes are, and how you’re unintentionally biting at your bottom lip.
“Yo—? ‘M not that pervy,” Your best friend shoots his head back up, wincing slightly at the new wave of friction between you both. He can’t even blame you for this one, it was entirely his fault. Kie doesn’t pay another care to the tiny chirp you let out, or the way your hand tries to casually cover your mouth — caused by the firmer sensation of his hard-on pressing under you. Instead she just goes back to whatever she was doing with Sarah, after playfully glaring at JJ and saying: “Sure you’re not.”
“It’s nothin’—! Right JJ?” You squeak, refusing to even acknowledge the boy. He flickers his eyes onto you on instinct — feeling his lips curl again once he notices the undeniable flush creeping up your neck. He concurs, letting his head hit gently at your shoulder again, “Yup. Nothin’.”
John B’s still driving like he was before JJ’s first warning, meaning the Twinkie once again hits a pothole or something; you’re both thrown forwards, then you’re shoved back against the sun-bleached blonde who’s currently trying not to loose his mind. Another groan leaves his lips, one he can’t suppress — it’s louder this time. You throw your arms to somewhere, trying to get a good enough grip so this stops happening. Damn John B and his fuckass driving.
Regardless, you quickly turn to JJ and shoot a high-pitched apology to the man — “Sorry—!!” — before returning to hover over your bestfriend’s lap. He looks gone. Absolutely whipped. Like the poor dude’s seconds away from just whimpering right in the middle of the pogues.
“Fuck. ‘S fine princess. Know y’didnt mean it that time,”he mutters into your ear, squeezing once at your flesh like this normal. Anything to make this less awkward, right? Then he lifts up his head gruffly, raising his strained voice loud enough that everyone can hear, not just you like as of recently: “John B I wasn’t kiddin’! Slow down, for fucks sake.”
“Uh … promise t’never mention this again?” he whispers into your ear after a few moments of just straight up tension. Trying once more to play the entire situation off — even though he somehow seems to still be growing his length under you each passing moment — he adjusts he brim of the cap he’s wearing backwards, before returning his calloused hand back around your hips to keep you from pressing down against him. You agree instantly, nodding fervently and squeaking back, “Mhm. Never again.”
“Thank fuck. Sorry ‘bout … everythin’, didn’t expect this to happen—“ he murmurs, sort of rambles, easing some of the heat between you both. He also happens to grip at your hips harder, lifting you just a tad bit higher off of his lap, at the exact same moment. Gosh, he’s so far gone it’s sort of comical. You can’t help but smile softly, quietly assuring the blonde that: “It’s okay JJ. I shoulda not been so … yeah.”
It’s in fact better than okay. Sure, you were a little stunned when you realised what had happened, but now you’re thinking about it? You made your best friend hard. From nothing. You made him hard. And that thought sends a flurry of butterflies erupting in your stomach.
Honestly it makes you want to just grind agains thin harder, just to see what’ll happen.
ᯓ★ a / n : like I said, this is the most smutty ima ever go !! i mean it’s pretty much there but hey we live. also this is lowk inspired by a carl gallagher c.ai bot lmao
ᝰ.ᐟ divider cred : @dollywons , @strangergraphics .
ᝰ.ᐟ taglist : @shayyaps , @mariamadison6-blog , @bambigirl10 , @mymelody-girlyyy .
