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bombsonboard · 2 months

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metal arm brrr

Summary: Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Tags: Fluff in the highest degree, old married couple, Swearing (It's Bucky, duh)

A/N: I just needed to give you guys something, it's been too long since i've written on here and you guys are the best :) I've barely checked this over so I apologize for any typos.

*****

“Can you stop moving, please?”

Bucky Barnes half asleep is not someone you want to mess with. The first time you shuffled he had hardly made a sound, the second you were met with a low grumble (a warning you knew well) and the third strike, he was thirty seconds from kicking you out of the bed.

When Bucky had finally learnt to sleep in a bed again, mostly thanks to you, he steadily became a big fan of his beauty sleep and god help anyone who ended up disturbing him. He had a lot to catch up on. Once, you had violently shaken him awake because his phone was ringing and when he heard Sam on the other line, you were deemed a ‘sleep thief’ for a week and a half after. Bucky Barnes was a bitch when it came to his sleep.

You usually wouldn't have any complaints about being in his vice grip but it was January and the nights were still cold and having a boyfriend with a metal arm meant that you were held to him with an ice cold grip around your waist. When the Summer came, it was a life saver, your own personal refrigerator but you still had a good few months to go before you were hanging off his arm everyday.

“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to convince yourself you were comfortable without another word.

Nope, can’t do it. You shift again.

“You’re kidding- what is it?” He pulls away from you and sits up on his elbow, glaring, he dares you. “Go on.”

With the most innocent doe eyes you could muster you slip your bottom lip between your teeth and debate the argument you could spark when your gaze slips to his vibranium arm in the semi darkness.

He doesn’t miss a thing, you’ve come to realize.

“I swear if you say-”

“-It’s cold! I’m cold! It’s just too much cold!” You burst, arms flailing in desperation.

“It’s my arm! You said you wanted to sleep on my left, this is my left arm, nothing I can do. Okay?”

“There has to be something.” You search the room for solutions, briefly lingering on the sock drawer.

“Oh yeah, sorry, let me just take it off.” Bucky grunts, dripping with sarcasm.

“...If you could?”

“Seriously, fuck you.”

Bucky falls back into his beloved pillow, eyes shut and wishing he has chosen a partner that let him sleep peacefully, then again, why would he want that when you exist?

“Look, either come to the other side or deal with it.”

Silence finally reaches your bedroom and Bucky is deeply in dreamland while you lie awake, scheming away.

In the early hours, you slip out of bed without a sound and make a beeline for the sock drawer, knowing you had some old pairs of slipper socks stuffed at the back. Scissors in hand, you snipped off the toes and smiled at the D.I.Y leg warmers. Oh, he was gonna be mad.

With nearly medical precision, you held out the slumbering Bucky’s arm in front of you and one by one, slid the fluffy socks up the freezing metal until it was sufficiently covered. Thanking the universe, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, you shuffled back under the covers and happily wrapped the soft arm back around your waist.

You slept like a lamb after that.

*****

When the morning came, you woke up before him like usual and briefly left him to his own devices as you made coffee, two mugs sitting on the counter beside each other.

Through the wall, you faintly hear the rising of the soldier before heavy footsteps quickly storm in your direction.

“The fuck is this?”

You look up to see him in the doorway, and find yourself the subject of a stare that would send millions running. Not you. The multicolored socks lined up his arm kind of softened his hoped effect and you had to stifle your laughter.

“A solution?” You shrug.

“No.” He points at you with his flesh arm accusingly “Nu-uh. This? This is not how we solve things.”

“Is it not? I’m really digging the rainbow on you.” The giggle you had tried to push down had spilled over.

“You’re a fucking menace.”

The giggle now a full bodied laugh that had you clutching at your chest as you were overcome with the image of your big, scary, ‘world’s most deadly assassin’ boyfriend glaring daggers at you while donning the most fluffy and most colorful socks up his arm.

Bucky was fighting a grin with all his might, your laughter was like an ugly disease, incredibly contagious, hard to avoid, and annoying.

Something soft hits you in the face and you halt your hysterics as you peer at the slipper sock now at your feet. Lifting your gaze, Bucky is smiling smugly, and working a second sock off his arm.

“Bucky!” You yelp and duck under the counter as the rainbow sock flies in slow motion over your head.

You probably shouldn’t poke the bear but-

“Y’know, for the best shot the United States army had ever seen you sure do miss a lot.” You taunt from your hiding spot.

When there's no response, you make a break for the couch and get shot squarely in the forehead.

“Say that again.” He dares with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, truce. Truce!” You raise your hands in surrender.

“Say sorry for last night.” The pink ball of fluff in his hands, a deadly fate, and you’re consigned to concede

“I apologize for last night.” You sigh, approaching him with caution “Now, it’s been ten whole minutes and you still haven’t subjected me to your obscene morning breath.”

He beckons you with his head and you happily plod over, throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss is sweet, and full of promised mornings to come.

It’s welcomed by you. Until you feel the coldest thing known to man, his left arm, writhing under your shirt and sending immediate shivers down your back.

“Bucky!” You screech and his strong laughter descends on your morning with malice.

Desperately wiggling out of his hold, you escape to the bedroom and yell from your stronghold:

“That was an act of war James Buchanan Barnes!”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #tfatws #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #clara writes

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literaryavenger · 2 months

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Not So Bad

Summary: It's Bucky's birthday, but he doesn't want to make a big deal out of it.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Language. None, really just fluff. No mentions of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1K

A/N: He's my second story for today. Happy birthday, Bucky! Thanks to @ordelixx for the idea and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for read proofing it.

Masterlist

Ever since he’s rejoined society and gained the closest thing he can have to a normal life, being a supersoldier and all, there’s one thing that Bucky can’t bring himself to do: celebrate his birthday.

The more memories he regains, the more he remembers a time where he used to celebrate his birthday with his family and his friends.

Sure, they didn’t have much, but he had his mom and his sister and Steve. It was a simpler yet happier time, and he now all he feels is gloomy.

So every year he treats it like any other day. He trains and goes on missions if he has to, and if he’s in the compound he chills with a book or maybe takes a motorcycle ride, never once even making it known to the rest of the team that it’s his birthday.

“Seriously, Buck? That’s how you’re gonna spend your whole day?” Steve asks Bucky as they walk down the hallway towards their rooms.

“Yes, seriously.” Bucky answers with a roll of his eyes. Every year Steve tries to get Bucky to do something more to celebrate his birthday, but Bucky never budges. “You know damn well what I think about my birthday.”

Steve groans and stops walking, causing Bucky to stop too, and tries one last time before leaving Bucky to his sulking. “I know, but come on! Let’s at least do something together. Let’s celebrate your birthday like we used to, go to Coney Island or something. Don’t spend the day alone!”

“We spend everyday together, Rogers. Sometimes it’s nice to get a break.” Bucky jokes with a smirk before he starts walking again and leaves Steve to chuckle and roll his eyes before he walks to his own room.

What neither of the supersoldiers realized is that they had stopped right in front of your room to talk, just as you were about to walk out. You stopped in your tracks and listened to their conversation.

It’s Bucky’s birthday? How did you not know that? Sure it’s not like you’re the best of friends, but you’re still pretty close. You should’ve known that.

So you decide to do something nice for him today while still respecting his wishes of having a low-key day. You take your purse and jacket and head to the garage, getting into your car and driving towards the city.

Truth is, you’ve always had a crush on the Sergeant. It was hard not to when he looked the way he did, and he was as sweet as Bucky was.

As intimidating as he might look, you knew how shy he could be. He got flustered easily when he got a compliment, and you found him so adorable when he started blushing and stuttering.

You go to the bookstore you know Bucky loves to browse when he is in the city, it’s a small store that’s filled with second hand books. Bucky always said that he loved to give books a second chance, just like he got one after Hydra.

You look through the books until you find the perfect one: Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.

The team saw the movie together when it was Steve’s turn to pick, and as you sat next to Bucky you heard him quietly talk with Steve about the details they remembered from reading the book in the 30s.

You go to Bucky’s favorite bakery next and buy two dozen of his favorite cupcakes, and when you see that they sell different colors of candles you have to buy a gold and black one.

You drive back to the compound and, after dropping the rest of the cupcakes in the kitchen for the team, you take one, putting the candle on top of it and taking a lighter. You go to Bucky’s room, cupcake in one hand and gift bag in the other, and knock on his door.

“Come in.” Bucky says from inside, thinking it’s Steve coming to bother him again.

You open the door slightly and look inside, seeing him sitting on his bed with his back against the headboard and a book in his hands.

“Am I bothering you?” You ask hesitantly.

“N-no, you’re not. Come in.” Bucky says quickly, closing his book and sitting up straighter.

You open the door completely and enter his room, taking a couple of steps towards him before stopping. “I… I got you something.”

Bucky’s eyes widen a little as he sees the cupcake and the gift bag you’re holding out to him.

“Did Steve tell you?” His eyes narrow a little, and you squirm a little under his gaze and shake your head.

“I overheard you talking about it…” You say quietly, a little embarrassed. “I get that you don’t want a party or anything, but I thought… I don’t know, I just wanted to do something nice for you on your birthday…”

You start to second guess yourself as he just looks at you and, just as you’re about to backtrack on your stupid idea and leave him alone, he smiles brightly at you, sitting on the edge of his bed and patting the spot next to him.

You sit next to him and you put the bag on his bed so you can light the candle and hold the cupcake out to him with a smile. “Make a wish.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. He knows what he wants to wish for, the thing is he already got his wish: you in his room, sitting with him on his bed. But he makes his wish anyway before blowing out the candle.

He wished for you to be his.

You smile at each other for a moment before you snap yourself out of it, shaking your head a little and picking up his present and giving it to him.

He puts the cupcake on his nightstand as he takes the bag and opens it and you can see his face light up when he sees it as he runs his fingers down the cover before looking at you with a smile. “Thank you, doll.”

You smile back at him and lean in to kiss his cheek. “Happy birthday, Bucky.” You say before getting up and leaving, letting him have his peaceful day of relaxation.

Bucky watches you go with a slight blush, his hand over his cheek where you kissed it and a goofy smile on his face.

Perhaps celebrating his birthday is not such a bad thing after all.

#bucky barnes #avengers x reader #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers #avengers x platonic!reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 9 months

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The Morning After

Summary: Reader and Spencer are waking up after a big fight the night before.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Angst, Comfort

Content warnings: Relationship troubles

Word count: 1k

You woke up not convinced you had slept. Your eyelids sticking together and sore from the stark morning light must indicate otherwise, right? It stings no matter how often you blink. It’s a similar sting to chlorine and your body clears it out. But no matter how many times you blink, the pain remains.

Normally, Spencer’s hogging the bed, his arms pressed against your back like he was in a casket but sideways while you grip the edge and hope you don’t meet the floor with your nose. Stretching your arm out to feel the other side feels unnatural. No hand ready to grab you and smack your knuckles with a kiss. No grinding teeth that you’ve told him is a sign of stress and he should get checked out.

This all felt worse. Even though Spencer was just in the living room, he still felt too far away. But what’s the right way to deal with that? How does one bounce back from such a brutal night?

Well, you don’t bounce back. You take it slow. You pick yourself up from the pillows, your body aching like a hangover. Sitting upright did not help your headache; the pain between your eyes is strong, recovering from scrunching so violently in the midst of sobbing and yelling. You’re both lucky the neighbors didn’t call the cops.

You sway around the bed, left to right like a stiff pendulum. In the doorway, you see your boyfriend. His hair is a moppy mess. He's got a fresh dark roast in his hands, and it takes all his concentration to bring it to his lips. It’s almost precious if you didn’t remember you’re partially responsible for putting him in that state. You watch him sip slowly, the heat hits his skin and he remains unfazed. He pulls it away.

“Morning.” You croak out. You push yourself out of the doorway as you wrap yourself tight in your robe.

His face turns to you as he considers another sip. “Morning.” He puts his cup on the end table. “There’s… uh there’s plenty more. If you want any.”

You nod, crossing your arms close to your chest. Even though you don’t waste time grabbing the hot pot and plenty of creamer, your mind concentrates on the feeling of eyes pressing into your back. The sound of the leather shifting with his weight, maybe he was watching to make sure you weren’t walking out (like you may or may not have threatened to do last night). When you turn around though, he does too, he knows you saw it.

Because you know what to do.

You walk to the couch, taking the side opposite as you take two gulps of your beverage, ignoring the semi-sweet liquid’s heat. You settle in with your cup close by while Spencer occupies himself with his own hands like he’s been called to the principal’s office.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

A third sip. “Yeah, probably best.” You eventually put your cup down after another eager drink. Your magazines were arranged on the table in front of you, labeled by issue. And not just that, but the books that were once sprawled on the floor were put back neatly on the shelves, in their intended alphabetical order. You pause at the sight. “You… wait, you cleaned up last night?”

Spencer coughed to pretend he wasn't so tired, saying "Yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured, you know, why not?” He equipped the rhetorical question with a shrug.

You rub your face. It all hurts. “I didn’t mean to back into the shelf. I hope you know that.”

“I know.”

“Good, okay.” The silence is thick. Expected, but still daunting. The chest pain that comes with holding your breath so sternly is not something you thought of before. And you wish it would go away. So you start it. “Do you want to go first, or would —”

“I’m sorry.” Spencer interrupts.

“Huh?”

“I’m really sorry. What I said, it was out of line.”

You sigh. The relief of it all (or part of it, the rest will come in time) pours out with one exhale. Your lungs still feel the ache, but again, in due time. “Me too. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have retaliated the way I did.”

Spencer’s lips pull into a smile as his head falls back. “Okay. Good.” He swallowed. “Good.”

You don’t waste time taking up space between you. Your knees touch as you reach out to brush his cheekbones with your knuckles. You move further up and rub the redness around his eyes. They match yours. So you know the area is sensitive. Spencer, however, looks up at the ceiling as you touch it. Soon though, he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the skin. “Not as sloppy as I usually am."

“It’s okay.” Your grip tightens in his. “I think we both need to rehydrate.”

“And sleep more,” Spencer said.

“That sounds nice.” You slip out of Spencer’s hold and comb his hair back with your fingers, clearing them from his face. “Want to go back to bed?”

Spencer’s face scrunches and readjusts in his seat, rubbing his shoulder blade against the couch’s back. “I don’t think I can. It’s not easy to turn comfortably here.”

“You don't have to sleep on the couch.”

Spencer looked back at you. “Really? You sure?”

“You deserve a decent sleep in your own bed.”

Before Spencer has a chance to protest, you’ve picked yourself up from the couch and started pulling him up by the wrists. Despite his weary state, he followed you and stood up himself. You tugged his arm to the bedroom, to the sweet relief of a mattress, pillows, and potential cuddles. Spencer however tugs back, and he brings you into a soft hug. His head on your shoulder, his arms linking together to cage you into the warmth of his body. You gladly (and sleepily) follow by putting your arms around his neck. And you stay there. For a while.

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httpsghostie · 9 months

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Under one Roof pt 1

pt 2

OK finally IT'S HERE

smh I'm down bad for roommate ghost I am sobbing

my hand is literally burning I wrote this aT COLLEGE

and YES my love language is food pls dont come for me

Summary: you never knew you needed a military roommate until you've got one.

Word Count: 1k (sorry it's short

Warnings: roommate!ghost x female!reader, slightly suggestive (if you squint), mentions of trauma, fluff/comfort, no use of y/n

masterlist

Ghost was an old friend of a friend of yours, and he happened to be needing a place to stay for a while, that ended up being a few more months, and now it's currently been a year since he moved in. He doesn't plan on leaving, you know it, you know that despite the independent man that he is, he likes having someone to come home to.

He was cold at first, so cold. And for many nights you cursed yourself for letting that rock of a heart get into your sweet home. He wouldn't talk much when he was there, you'd almost forget he was around if it wasn't for random coughs or sneezes.

That man smoked like a chimney in the first days he's spent around, he was anxious and that wasn't very cute, he was always smelling like cigarettes, but thankfully he didn't smoke inside.

He appreciated your effort on cooking for the two of you, but you couldn't help it. How could he survive when he wasn't eating properly? Yes, frozen pizza is cool… until it's the third day in a row that you're eating frozen and instant food and you can barely stand.

He also had a fucked up sleeping schedule that you just went along with it, you once got scared when you walked in the kitchen and found him just laying on the wall, eyes closed and snoring slightly. That day you scolded him to go back to his room and made him lay down on the bed.

"You're gonna lay down on this bed and you're gonna have some nice hours of sleep, alright? I'm gonna leave the door open, if I see you awake I'm punching you." You sounded like a mother, almost, and he was so tired he couldn't fight back.

And the days went by, he'd go away, he'd come back as tired as he left. But at least he was slowly opening up to be a really cool guy. You two started to bond, and the more he talked, the more you wanted to spend time with him.

Oh and don't even get started on dad jokes, he's cracking them up whenever he's helping with house chores, or when you two are eating peacefully.

He became a friend, a very good friend, one that wouldn't mind you venting out to, plus he was a good listener. He'd just sit there listening to whatever haze your brain was going through, and slowly he learned that he shouldn't be giving you reasonable ways to solve your problems, he should just tell you it would be ok.

And you found yourself slowly falling for him. Of course destiny had to put you together. Only if it wasn't for the way he handled things around the house.

"Oh, the living room lamp broke? Let me fix it."

"Those boxes are heavy, hand them to me."

"Go find a movie for us to watch, I'll do the dishes. Find a good one, though."

"Goddamnit, I told you not to be climbing on that fucking balcony, you're not a cat, you're gonna hurt yourself one day." Said as he picked you up when you were trying to reach the top of the cabinet. "Just ask me, I can reach it without putting myself in danger."

Or maybe if it wasn't for the fact that he'd purposefully get out of the shower with that pretty little towel wrapped around his body, that made you clench your fists. The way he was still a bit wet, a few drops running down his abs. He was surprisingly cool with his scars around you, maybe because you didn't make a big deal out of it.

That's because it wasn't. You expected that when Gaz, your friend, told you that the friend he was sending to you was his 'work buddy'. And he phrased it exactly like that.

"Don't mind him, he's big and scary, but he'll be a good roommate, I promise, he's my work buddy." You chuckled when you read the text.

And yet Ghost didn't mind the stare of admiration coming from your burning gaze across the living room, when you thought the most ungodly things a brain has seen.

He started to become more and more warm, he found safe with you, like you could actually be his home. One night, he found a deep conection with you when you were casually drinking together, sat by the coffee table, playing video games.

She should know the truth about me.

He thought. And that was the night he dropped his heavy armor. He told you the bare surface of his past, even though most of it had been blocked from his memory, like a dark spot he couldn't remember, and would die without trying to take a peak at it.

You cried, and he couldn't understand why you were crying until you said it wasn't his fault.

"It's not your fault, you didn't deserve any of this." You sobbed, hugging him close.

He broke down. Like he needed someone to reassure him that he wasn't the villain from his past. He realized what you meant to him, and he swore to God he would try his best to come home to you when he had to work.

Some days were strange after that, like he regretted telling you about his story. He had that feeling in his gut that you weren't looking at him the same way, like you were pity. He didn't want your pity, he hated that look on your face.

But that changed.

He had come home one day, texting you while he was at the airport waiting for a ride. You ran to get groceries and make him a good meal, but the only thing that came to your mind was the old recipe of lasagna you kept from your grannie.

That old lady, always saving your life.

#cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod fanfic #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost #ghost call of duty

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jasmines-library · 2 months

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Hiii!! Firstly, I love your writing and I hope you’re having a great day!! I was hoping to request a Winchester sibling fic where the reader is really comforted by physical touch but is really observant and receptive to the fact their brothers are emotionally constipated and touch starved so the reader has never really asked for it but then one day either just a bad day or bad hunt and the reader just asks the boys to hold them or one of them to sit in the back of the Impala with them? Thank you so so much and I hope you have a lovely day!! 🫶

So close, yet too far.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Summary: You just really need a hug.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Touch Starved, character death mentioned, swearing

p.s. Sorry for the long wait! I've got exams at the moment so they're taking up a lot of my time.

⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Life as a hunter was never still. You were constantly moving. Constantly looking over your shoulder. Constantly chasing what could be your last day on earth. And you wouldn’t ever have said you regretted it. No. In fact, you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Hunting creatures and saving the world? It was all You couldn’t have imagined a better life…

But sometimes you found yourself wanting life to just slow down for a minute. It was so hectic and you just needed a breath. A hug. With such a busy life, there was no time for just spending quality time with your brothers. Or anyone for that matter. It was an endless cycle: Wake up. Research. Hunt. Drive. Sleep. There was no time for sitting on the couch and watching cheesy movies together. Nor was there any time for curling up together like you used to do when you were smaller. You found yourself yearning for it. For a hug or simply just a gentle arm around your shoulder. It used to bring you so much comfort. But times were tough with all that had happened recently. The three of you were even more on edge than ever before.

Your brothers had always told you that you could ask them for anything. That you could tell them whatever you wanted… but this wasn’t just something you could ask them for. You had seen how they often shunned away from touch. From relationships. Having seen so much pain and having lost so many people…they struggled to allow themselves to let their guard down enough to enjoy a tender moment. Even with you. So no matter how much you yearned for it you could never bring yourself to push the want from your mind and into words.

So when the hunt went worse than you could have imagined you kept quiet.

Dean’s hand was right there; peeking out from the hem of his flannel. His fingers were bloody and calloused, scarred and covered in small cuts and yet his touch was still tender. You felt your own fingers itch to reach out and lace them between his. You wanted for him or Sam to wrap you up in their arms and hold you close. To squeeze your hand. Or a shoulder. But you knew that they had much more pressing matters to deal with that overshadowed “needy little sister”.

You trailed behind them, dragging your feet ever so slightly to kick up the dirt and leave trails between the orange leaves. You did not look up at your brothers because you knew you would see Dean's set jaw and Sam’s pinched eyebrows as they too mourned the hunt.

A small boy had been caught by a shtriga. He had been no older than 5 or 6 with these big, blue eyes that got impossibly wider as the creature stalked toward him. And his scream…it pierced through the air like a beam of light: clear as day yet providing no clarity. No safety like light should bring. Instead it was cold and filled with a gripping terror.

The three of you had been too slow. No matter how hard you dragged your stubborn limbs you couldn’t get to him fast enough. So now you trudged along in silence.

The sight of Baby did not, in fact, provide you with the relief you thought it would. Instead the gleaming of the bonnet against the moonlight just made your stomach churn. You knew that you would all try to bury the memory in a box, deep in the back of your mind. But it was never that easy. They tried hard, but you would hear them late at night. Dean hardly slept as he tried to drink his troubles away and Sam barely left his room. And then there was you who lay awake staring blankly at the ceiling as you wept softly, wrapping your arms around yourself to curl up in a ball. It didn’t bring the same comfort as theirs did, like it had done when you were small and naive when you crawled into their bed after a nightmare. When things weren’t so fucking complicated.

Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you reached for the metal handle. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t sit in silence to be left with your own thoughts. You couldn’t be alone. Not right now.

“Sammy…” Your voice was quiet. Hushed. Barely a whisper pushed out on cracked lips that trembled.

Sam paused, his hand halfway between where he had been picking at the hem of his jeans and the handle of the passenger door. He lifted his head, humming softly in acknowledgement.

“Sit with me… Please.”

“Of course.” His face melted and he moved in one swift movement.

He slid in the backseat, leaning against the door frame and stretching out across the seats. He pulled you in to lean against his side, wrapping his arms around you. You lay your head on his shoulder, snuggling into his side. And began to weep.

“Kiddo?” Sam asked gently. “What’s up?” His hands traced small circles on your arm.

Dean reached over the back of the seat with a concerned look, though part of it could be easily mistaken for fear. “It’s not your fault, Sweetheart-” He started.

“Just…hold me. Please.” You clung onto Sam, your other hand reaching out to settle atop of Dean’s. Their touch was comforting, yet you couldn’t help the wavering as you wept. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

And so they did. Sam nestled you further into his side, tucking your head beneath his chin and Dean clambered out of his seat to join the two of you in the back. He settled down on your other side, sandwiching you between the two of you. And they held you. They ran their fingers through your hair, held your hand and spoke to you. They held you tight and the three of you stayed close together, with no intention of moving any time soon.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

SPN TAGS:

@defonotashleyr

@aestheticdaisies

@xxrougefangxx

@hell-o-kittys

@inlovewhithafairytale

@harleycao

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

#supernatural x reader #supernatural #spn x reader #spn x sister reader #supernatural x sister reader #supernatural x little sister reader #supernatural fanfiction #hurt/comfort #touch starved #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester x sister reader #Sam Winchester #Sam Winchester x reader #Sam Winchester x sister reader

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thepersonnamedsam · 1 year

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learning how to drive - sv5

pairing: sebastian vettel x genz!driver (platonic), 22 grid x genz!driver (platonic)

summary: you may have your super license to drive your f1 car, but driving outside the paddock? not really your thing

word count: 1k

warnings: nothing really

note: the genz!driver is maybe 17/18 and does not have a drivers license. i have no idea about driving a car, so just ignore that part

masterlist / taglist

The second the grid had found out that you had not yet made your driver’s license, they were joking about it. You’re driving at 300 km/h every second Sunday, but you are not driving at a normal speed on the roads? What was wrong with you? Actually, you had a fair reason not to drive on the streets, you were scared. You feared hitting another car, or someone hitting you. You were scared of ignoring road signs or missing a stop sign.

“Our youngster is scared to drive, are you not racing this weekend?” Lando had made fun of you the most, finding it funny that the younger driver was not driving a normal car. Daniel had a laugh or two with it as well, but always hoping you’d know he was only joking. Even Max cracked a joke, never really participating in bullying the driver, as he respected you very much and saw himself in you at some times. But when Danny starts to joke, Max was fast behind him laughing silently along.

George, Alex, and Charles were trying to be encouraging but they were still making jokes about it. “Should I get you tomorrow? We can share a ride, as you can’t drive”, George laughed, and you just stared at him annoyed. You still agreed, every single time he asked you.

You were grateful for your friends, but they were still annoying like nothing in your life was. So, when Seb noticed your fear, he felt bad for you. He wanted to help you; that’s why he offered to teach you how to properly drive. Not in an F1 car, but in a worn-down Subaru Outback H6-3.0. The car belonging to his father and was the perfect car to learn to drive in. It was a manual car, it’s important to know how to drive stick. The car was old, so if you kissed a wall, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.

“Seb I’m scared, what if I hit someone?”, your concern laced your voice. Seb sighed, already explained to you that you were first going to practice on an empty parking lot and not actually going on the road. You had done your theoretical driving test and passed, with flying colors, but starting your practical driving lessons? You just couldn’t do that.

You sat in the car, both hands on the steering wheel, arms so outstretched Seb’s arms were hurting. “Just relax, y/n, everything is going to be fine. You are fine and you got this, it’s not your first time driving, remember? It’s your job to drive”, Seb tried to calm you down. His left hand touching your right arm and guiding it to a comfortable level.

“Okay, now first press the coupling and shift the stick to neutral. That’s it, good job”, he told you, telling you what to do. “Now you step slowly on the gas, slowly, yeah?” You were doing it; you were driving the car! And the more time you spent in the car with Seb, the easier the driving got. You were just so happy.

The next time someone mad a comment about your normal driving, you bit back. When Carlos approached you, already smirking you knew what was going to happen. “Hey y/n, do you think you could drive me to the paddock tomorrow?” His eyebrows wiggling like crazy. You had to hold back your smile. “Uh, yeah sure, I mean I can try, right?”, you answered him. Carlos looked at you with surprise in his eyes. He nodded; nut sure what to expect the next morning.

When you texted him, that you were outside, he didn’t think you would be waiting for him in a Ford Mustang 1966, your first self-owned car by the way. He looked pretty stunned as he opened the door to the passenger seat. He whistled at your car and made a comment such as ‘Nice one’. So, you started the car and drove him and you to the paddock. The hotel wasn’t far away, but there still enough time to show him your new learned driving skills. You still weren’t technically allowed to drive on your own, not having attended the driver’s test yet. But no one had to know that you drove five minutes without supervision. Carlos was now there to supervise you.

You passed him your phone; it was connected to a Bluetooth speaker. “Choose what to listen to, but don’t play Smooth Operator, or I’ll be singing to you the whole time”, you laughed at him. He was just aimlessly picking a playlist and pressing play. Kilby Girl by The backseat Lovers started to play. Nodding your head to the beat of the song, Carlos was actually a bit scared of you losing focus. But you didn’t, you arrived safely at the paddock where Seb was waiting. He had a huge grin on his face, proud of you to actually drive with someone else other than him. He hugged you, whispering how proud he was of you in your ear. You smiled; Seb was definitely your comfort person.

Later that day, when an interviewer asked about your driving skills off the track, it had become a meme, thanks to some of the drivers, you answered honestly: “Sebastian has helped me learn to overcome my fear of driving outside the paddock. He sat with me in a car, for hours and explained everything to me. It’s hard to believe I got my super license before my actual driver’s license, but it’s fine. It’s something more to add to my resume.”

Seb was standing behind the camera, smiling and feeling proud. He held up his two thumps and outstretched them to you. You smiled as well and bid your goodbyes to the nice interviewer. You were glad to have Seb as your mentor and you made sure to tell him that enough.

#f1 x reader #f1 #sebastian vettel #formula 1 #sebastian vettel x reader #formula one x y/n #driver reader #gen z #Sebastian Vettel x gen z #f1 au

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jinnie-ret · 3 months

Text

hellevator

stray kids x ninth member male!reader

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: implied anxiety, implied disassociating

word count: 2.1k

summary: he's going through voice changes in their debut era and fans are already sending in hate

Requested: anon!

This is my first male!reader fic so please be kind, I hope you enjoy! <3

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

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He was so excited to finally be a part of something, not that he had been training for long. But when Bang Chan told him he saw potential in him, despite their 6 year age gap, and recognised how well he got on with the other members, he was quickly added onto the line up for Stray Kids.

During the survival show, Y/N was babied, of course he was, the maknae in the upcoming JYP boy group. Fans of the show fauned over his fluffy black hair and the oversized hoodies he'd wear, making him look smaller. It was similar to how Jeongin was babied too, the two of them being the youngest and seen to have that sweet, innocent air around them. Plus, for Y/N's case, his voice hadn't broken yet at the age of 14, so that fed more into how he was perceived by fans.

However, it was not long after the group had finally debuted that a more mature, deeper voice had overcome him. Of course, not without the struggles of getting used to it. Originally singing the chorus of District 9 wasn't difficult, in fact it was easy. His gorgeous, husky tone was unique yet when he hit those high notes his voice was instantly recognisable. Now, he had to deal with voice cracks, and the rapidly depleting self-esteem that came along with it. This is what he trained to do after all.

"You're getting stressed out. We need to practice getting your voice in a position where it can hit those high notes again. It's not going to help if you're standing there thinking you can't do it," the vocal teacher sighed, putting down her sheets of the lyrics Y/N had been singing.

She was firm, yes, but she was being kind about the situation too. She has coached many that had gone through the same thing as Y/N, and all she wanted to do was to see him succeed, but he couldn't see things through her eyes, that was far too big of a mountain to climb for him. A treacherous journey to realising not everything is one dimensional.

Y/N could only focus on those last four words. 'You can't do it'. And he hated the way that everything suddenly felt hot, and how his throat itched. How his neck itched. He started subconsciously scratching lightly at his neck, feeling the stress flood through his body. He scratched away at the thing he wanted to change most, knowing he couldn't turn back time and have things stay the way they were.

All the comments he had read, all the whispers he had heard, circulating in his brain, like an endless loop of vicious words to bring him down. He would be the reason Stray Kids would fail, they had said. He wasn't good enough, they had said. It all came from jealous trainees that were bitter they didn't get to debut instead of him. The only failure apparent in this situation was Y/N realising that.

"I need some air," Y/N barely managed to speak as he rushed out of the small practice room, tugging at the strings of his hoodie and making his way outside.

Fresh air.

Just breathe, Y/N.

And he managed to do so, not without his mind taking him to another place as he stared up at the JYP sign on the building. Was he meant to be here? Did he deserve to be here when his talents were no longer there? Y/N just couldn't see it the same way anymore, he couldn't see himself the same way anymore when the thing he had been praised for so deeply had changed. Even the people who had supported him before had changed their opinions, because his growth had shattered the image they had of him.

Y/N was unaware of the familiar presence beside him, one that had playfully called out his name before realising something was wrong. He was gently guided back into the building, and swiftly surrounded by the warmth of the 3RACHA studio.

"Hyungs! I found Y/N but he's not talking to me," Jisung's voice quivered as he himself was now feeling worried about his dongsaeng.

Changbin took Jisung aside, hushing him and reassuring him that he did the right thing, whilst Chan took it upon himself to understand what was happening to his youngest brother.

"Hey, hey, you're ok, come on, look at me," Chan spoke quietly, yet he managed to break through Y/N's mind as the younger looked around the studio.

"I shouldn't even be here," Y/N shook his head, voice monotonous. Just being there upset him further, yet he still fought against everything within him to show that side.

"What do you mean? This is our studio of course you're allowed in here, I mean, I know Channie likes his own space sometimes but this is different," Changbin moved to stand in front of Y/N too, having successfully calming Han, "hey, no no no don't float away again, I need you to listen," Changbin forced Y/N to sit down in the sofa. Han automatically wrapped his arms around the younger, wanting to do his best to show he was there for his fellow member.

"What's going on Y/N? Your vocal teacher said you just ran out of the building. She was waiting another 45 minutes until Seungmin turned up for his lesson because she couldn't find you," Chan sighed as he sat down in his chair, opposite the distressed boy.

"I bet Seungmin was much better than me," Y/N mumbled, but even with that, throat thick in emotion, his voice cracked yet again. Flustered that it had happened yet again, Y/N's fist came down against his own leg, huffing in frustration.

"Yah yah, don't do that!" Han frowned, pulling Y/N's arms away from him.

"I'm just so frustrated!" Y/N spoke through gritted teeth, looking up at the ceiling to keep his tears at bay.

"About what?" Changbin prompted Y/N further but he just stayed quiet.

"You need to tell us ok, we're your hyungs, we want to know what's going on, we need to know," Chan moved closer, resting his hand on Y/N's knee.

"My stupid voice," Y/N whispered, embarrassed to admit it.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"What about it?"

"Ever since it's broken, you know, gotten deeper, I just sound stupid when I try singing, it's embarrassing, I mean, it makes sense when they say I shouldn't even be in the group anymore, I-" Y/N opened the gates to his mind as his mini ramble began and was quickly cut off.

"Who said that..." Changbin frowned deeply.

"Stays, other trainees," Y/N threw his hands up in the air, just done with the whole situation.

"Trainees are saying it too?!" Han gasped, looking at Chan and Changbin worriedly, a hint of malice in his eyes as he thought about all of those around them that still acted like their friends.

"Y/N they're just jealous, you can't listen to what they say," Chan began, sighing once more as he ran his fingers through his hair, somewhat at a loss of how to reassure Y/N anymore.

"Easier said than done. Why did you even have me join this group when, when... when I was just going to make us fail!" Y/N exploded, pushing himself up from the sofa and out of Han's arms, away from Changbin's concerned glances and especially away from Chan's words which went in one ear and out the other straight away.

It wasn't long until he found what he thought was an empty practice room, not noticing the bags of his other hyungs that were for once tucked away neatly in the corner of the room. He found solace in the emptiness and allowed himself to collapse to his knees, breaking down into tears of frustration, sadness and all the other emotions he kept pent up.

The rest of Stray Kids returned from a small snack break at the vending machine, all going together of course, you wouldn't find one Stray Kid without another, even this early on in their time of being together.

"Hey hey hey, aegi, what's going on? Omo..." Lee Know gasped as he saw the baby of the group shaking and sobbing. He ran up to Y/N and wrapped his arms around him, the other members astonished until 3RACHA ran in and finally found Y/N after hearing the commotion.

They began to explain what happened to Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin whilst Felix sat down in front of Y/N to help calm him down, brushing his hair out of his face and rubbing his leg soothingly. He tried his best to listen to Y/N at first but due to his growing knowledge of Korean not being up to par with Y/N's incoherent sobs, it was easier to stick to physical affection. You could say Y/N was in a Lee sandwich, the best place he could be right now.

"Can't... Shouldn't..." Y/N sobs soon calmed down and the rest of his members gathered around him in a semicircle, Minho still hugging him from behind. Yes, he could come across as cold and brash sometimes, but no one could tell you just how soft Minho really was apart from his members. They knew him the best.

"Y/Nnie... please you have to listen to us, you're in this group for a reason," Hyunjin patted his knee from beside him.

"T-they didn't say anything about Jeongin's voice when his broke!" Y/N exclaimed, pain clearly still there, tired of all the judgement he had been receiving. He wasn't able to listen to his hyungs right now.

And the boys go quiet not knowing what to say back to Y/N, they were sure he didn't mean to offend Jeongin but it didn't stop Seungmin from patting his shoulder in support.

"Not, not, oh gosh not that I wanted Jeonginnie hyung to get hate I'd never want that for my hyungs I just..." Y/N put his face into his hands, feeling bad as if he has indirectly insulted his hyung, just because he was feeling hurt. From behind him, Minho hugged him tighter, whispering in his ear to try and gain his attention.

"It's ok, I know you didn't mean it like that," Jeongin smiles from across him, and Y/N could tell it was a genuine one.

"Look, our vocal teacher said something to me earlier about what was going on, she was worried about you, she thought she said something wrong," Seungmin trailed off, trying to get to the bottom of the matter.

"No she was actually really nice about it, it was just too much of a reality check and then my mind just took control and... Ugh I don't even know," Y/N came to a realisation that his vocal teacher wasn't being rude to him and it was all these overwhelming feelings that had built up and caught him out.

"Just take a moment, yeah, and think, would I have added you to this group if I didn't think you had the talent, had the potential," Chan rose an eyebrow, firmly talking to Y/N to make sure he understood what he was saying.

"Or his personality, personality is important too," Felix piped up, not wanting Y/N to feel like his worth was only reduced down to one thing.

"Of course it is, but that isn't what this is about right now, answer me, Y/N," Chan nodded to Felix before looking back at his upset member.

"N-no..." Y/N stuttered, realising the depth of what his leader was saying.

"Good. We can see how good you are. The only reason fans are getting annoyed is because it's a change they haven't adjusted to yet. Just like you're adjusting to this change too. Now, they shouldn't be sending in hate, so please, I will do everything it takes for you to not listen to it anymore, ok?" Chan promised Y/N, sitting in front of him and making sure he got that one answer he needed.

"O-ok, I-i understand now, thanks hyung, I-i love you all," Y/N felt the stress leave him, finally able to understand things from a different perspective.

"Aww he said he loves us!" Minho suddenly picks up Y/N and spins him around, causing the younger boy to squeal.

"I wish I had a camera!" Seungmin laughed along.

"I need to remember this forever," Jeongin and Han fooled around, widening their eyes and pretending to screenshot this happy cute moment into their brains.

It was definitely a moment that Y/N would be teased about in the future, being exposed for his true feelings for his hyungs when normally he'd be quiet about what he thought about in the normal way. It was just a good thing they got in his head this time, because now they had a happy memory to think about instead.

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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria

#skz #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #straykids ninth member #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #ninth member #stray kids ninth member #male reader #skz male reader #stray kids male reader

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writemekpop · 7 months

Text

Never Too Late | Huang Renjun

Summary: Your idol boyfriend Renjun is worried that your relationship is too risky... he tries to break things off

Genre: Established relationship AU, idolverse, angsty

Word Count: 1k

You were awoken at midnight by a knocking on the door. You rushed to open it.

“Renjun,” you said, smiling. “Quick, quick! Come in."

Renjun frowned, but let you close the door behind him. As Renjun was a world-famous Kpop idol, you had gotten used to never lingering in doorways, never holding hands in public, not even in the dead of night. It was hard, but for Renjun – your funny, tough, fiery dream boyfriend – it was worth it.

Renjun’s frown hadn’t shifted. He was holding something fluffy and pink, which he thrust towards you.

“I came to return your jumper,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “In the middle of the night?”

“Yep,” he said. “I figured you might need to wear it.” “I repeat, in the middle of the night?” you said. “Look, you can keep it. You look cuter in it anyway.”

Renjun shrugged. “Oh… I don’t know. It’s not exactly a guy colour, and I wouldn’t want to stretch it out, and you know what? It’s a little itchy-“ “Keep. The. Jumper,” you said.

Renjun bit his lip. “Well, I just don’t know… when I’ll be able to give it back to you.” You felt a pain in the pit of your stomach. After all, Renjun hadn’t replied to any of your texts for a week. You’d resorted to checking fan accounts to make sure he was okay.

“What are you trying to say?” you said. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Renjun’s brown eyes were fixed on the ceiling. “I don’t know. Maybe.” The pain in your stomach grew into a pit, sucking you up. “What? But you’re so happy these days. I know you are.” Renjun was rocking on his heels. “I know, but how is this going to work out? What if people find out about us?” You let out a breath in disbelief. “I thought we already talked about this! Your company is okay with it, and who cares if people hate on me a little? I’m a big girl. I can handle it.”

“Just take the jumper,” Renjun said, holding it out again.

You held out your hands, palms facing him. “I swear to God, if you give me that jumper one more time-“

Renjun shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I just need some space.” You crossed your arms. “Well, I refuse that.”

Renjun stared at you incredulously. “I’m asking for space. You can’t refuse that!” “Yes, I can,” you said, your voice growing soft. “I know you miss me, Renjun. You’re missing me right now, aren’t you?”

Renjun was so close you could have stretched out your arms and hugged him. He was trembling even in his coat, trying desperately not to meet your eye.

“What happens if everyone finds out, and then we break up, huh?” Renjun said. “My fans might get hurt.” “You mean, Renjun might get hurt,” you said quietly. “You’re scared, so like a child, you’re pushing me away. You know what? I thought you were better than that.”

You moved forwards to open the front door and let Renjun out, but his hand caught your arm, and moved up your shoulder to entwine in your hair.

And then, he was kissing you.

Renjun fit so perfectly against you, his chest against your chest, his mouth against your mouth, that it was impossible to believe you weren’t soulmates. The week apart from him had dulled him in your memory. You had forgotten just how soft his lips were, how delicious his smell: like woodland moss, fresh with dew.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, kissing him more deeply, pulling him back into the house with you. You had to stop, however, when you nearly tripped over the pink jumper, that was on the floor.

Renjun bent to pick it up, and hand it to you.

“Hey,” you said seriously. “That’s a health hazard. I don’t want that thing anywhere near my house.”

Renjun smirked. “What if… I’m wearing it?”

“Only if you wear just that jumper – and nothing else,” you said.

“Deal,” Renjun said. “Well… I’d better start stripping then.”

“Deal,” you replied, grinning.

—

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Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

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jadewritesficshere · 30 days

Text

Shirts

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: you notice somethings changed about Steve's dresser (<1k words)

Contains: fluff, no gender description of reader, reader is called Honey

"Hey Steve?" You call, brow furrowed in confusion at the dresser. "Yeah?" Steve yells back from the bathroom. You peer into the dresser drawer," Where are your clothes?"

You can hear Steve turn off the light in the bathroom and the creak of the floorboard as he walks back into his bedroom. "Huh?" Steve appears at your side," Oh."

Steve's dresser drawers were usually stuffed to the brim. You would put the winter stuff away during summer and the summer stuff away during the winter. Unlike you, however, Steve kept his clothes out year round. The more often worn clothes ended up towards the top while the stuff rarely worn kept the bottom drawers full. He was stubborn too, arguing that it was a waste of time when he'd use the clothes again eventually ("Besides, Indiana weather changes so often one day it snows, the next it's so hot, and the next its a tornado. You got to be ready year round Honey").

But now? The drawer you opened had his shirts neatly folded on the left, but nothing on the right. You had peeked into the drawer beneath it and found the same with his pants.

"Made room for your stuff." Steve said it as if it wasn't a big deal. As if he didn't cause your heart to beat faster. As if the most stubborn and routine man you knew didn't just change something to include you in it.

Steve elbowed your side and gave you a grin," Got the winter stuff put away so you can't keep stealing my sweaters." You gasp in mock offense," I did not steal them! I borrowed." "Mmhmm and why is it i still don't have them?" Steve kisses your cheek, letting you know he isn't truly upset.

Steve leaves your side to head to the bed. You grab one of his shirts out of the drawer and pause again," Hey Steve?" "Yeah?" You flip through the shirts, "Why do you have the same exact shirt like...three times?"

"Well, sometimes you like shirts to fit you loosely so I got a shirt that does that. And sometimes you like shirts to be skin tight so I got one like that. And then the shirt that I already owned." Steve wanders back over, lifting each shirt as he mentions them. You can see the one he owned slightly faded compared to the new ones.

"You did that for me?" You can't help the sappy tone. Steve deflects," It's not that much. They had a sale on shirts. Besides, this way I don't have to fend off you and Robin for my own clothes." Steve won't meet your eyes.

Because Steve loves loud and has been called too much. Has been told it was "a lot". And he doesn't want to see that in your eyes. But if he looked up all he would see would be adoration. Love.

"Steve that's," you clear your throat," That's the most thoughtful thing anyone has done for me." Steve's head snaps up to look at you. Whatever he's searching for in your eyes he must find, because you can see the tension fall from his shoulders.

"Well, I'll have to think of more things to top that." Steve grins at you. You smile back, heart beating fast. Your stomach alight with butterflies. You quickly change your shirt into one of his. Steve's eyes watching you the entire time sending shivers down your spine.

You walk over to where he is sitting on the bed, smiling down at him. "I love you." You declare as you thread a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. "I love you more." Steve counters, a hand landing on your hip.

"I love you most," You beam down at him. "Impossible." Steve wraps his arms around you and yanks you onto the bed with him. You shriek before laughing as you both land on the bed on your sides.

Steve pulls you closer, his nose lightly nudging yours. "I love you so much words can't even describe it." Steve murmurs, looking into your eyes," Just hope i can show it." "You do."

Steve's lips lightly brush yours. Soft. Sweet. His grip tightens on you as your kisses become more firm, more passionate. He nips at your bottom lip, causing you to gasp. He doesn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, licking into your mouth.

And as you kiss you can't help but feel overcome by the love you feel. And as your clothes end up haphazardly on the ground, you can't help but feel loved. And as Steve murmurs praises and holds you close, you know he feels the same.

#Surprise two things dropping at once #This isn't that long...but I need him #I also need to be held but thats besides the point #Can we talk about his hands like have yall seen his hands how big and-#steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington/you #Steve Harrington/reader #Jade Is Talking

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leviscolwill · 8 months

Text

glue song

pairing: trent alexander arnold x reader

summary: after going picnicking with your little cousins, you feel like your relationship with your boyfriend has taken a new step (wc: 1k)

contents: established relationship, talk abt having kids, so fluffy you might die in it, suggestive ending i guess ??

note: i'm in a trent mood lately, just look at him being so babygirl. i want to be his controversially young gf so bad (gasly core)

reblogs and feedback are very very much appreciated 🫶

now playing: glue song by beebadoobee and clairo

when your cousin asked you to babysit her kids for the afternoon, you immediately accepted. you were very close to your family but still felt like you didn't see your cousin or her twin daughters enough so you jumped on the occasion.

trent had already met your family quite a few times but when you told him the news, he was already planning the whole day ahead wanting to make the most out of the afternoon you'll spend with olivia and amalia.

he'd prepared custom sandwiches for them according to their taste and he forced you to bake cookies with him for them.

"come on it'll be fun." he practically pleaded.

"but trent you know that we can't bake to save our life."

"we ? who is we ? i'm a great baker." he replied side eyeing you while grabbing every ingredient needed. it was the truth, sort of. trent was not a great baker but he was definitely better than you, his cookies were edible (most of the time) and even good, sometimes.

but baking with trent was always a hustle, you tried to focus on the recipe while he wanted to wing it, saying it would taste better this way.

"you should listen to the real chef here love, it's not a big deal if we don't put the exact same amount of vanilla you know. now, be a good sous-chef and grab the whip for me please" he told you with a cocky grin, he knew how you would react to his words, exactly how he wanted you to.

you grabbed the whip only to playfully hit his shoulder with it while trent dramatically whined that you wanted him injured for the start of the season.

it didn't surprise you that your boyfriend was this excited about spending his day with actual kids, the way he was behaving like one right now.

after at least an hour of battling with trent, and cleaning your flour-maculated kitchen, your cookies were ready. and after tasting one (for research purposes, of course), you could say they were good, 'probably the best thing ever baked' in your boyfriend's words.

after a while, your shared house's doorbell finally rang, and trent nearly jumped out of his seat to open the door, you followed him and welcomed your cousin and her 7 year old daughters.

"thank you so much for babysitting them today, they're very happy to see their favorite aunty and uncle." your cousin beamed while giving you their bags, heavy with toys.

"we're also happy to spend some time with them, we have a great afternoon planned." you replied with a smile. trent who had his hand on your waist was quick to agree with you too.

after olivia and amalia hugged their mum goodbye, trent was already grabbing your bags full of sandwiches, sweets, and freshly baked cookies.

"uncle trent did you know my team won the school's football competition in may." amalia beamed at trent while she told him how she scored the winning goal for her team, thanks to her sister's brilliant assist. seeing trent and your little cousins get along this well made your chest feel warm at the scene, you almost wished for today to never end, although it was far from over.

once you settled your large blanket in the park, your boyfriend chose. you gave olivia and her sister their sandwiches with a kiss on their forehead. you turned around to take your own when you met trent eyes and his lovesick smile.

"why are you looking at me like that ?" you asked him with a shy smile as you felt the blush creep up your cheeks.

"do i need a reason to stare at my girl now ?" he answered, quickly pressing a kiss on your lips.

"ewww." olivia covered her eyes in disgust, while amalia pretended to throw up.

you laughed at their dramatic reactions and took a bite of the sandwich prepared by trent.

after the girls finished their sandwiches, they tasted the homemade cookies and absolutely loved them.

"of course they're perfect, they were made by liverpool's best baker." trent beamed pointing at himself. you rolled your eyes while olivia and amalia laughed at his ridiculous claim.

when it was finally time to go, you cleaned up everything while your cousins started walking to the car holding each other's hands.

"come on let's go home, my three princesses." he said, while bringing your hand to his lips to kiss the back of it and kiss the side of your head while you started walking, holding hands like teens.

after your cousin picked up olivia and amalia, and thanked you again, the house seemed oddly silent. not the awkward kind of silence but a comforting one, the kind of silence you often shared with trent when words weren't needed.

"i really had fun today you know." trent broke the silence, stroking your hair.

"yeah, i noticed that, i'm glad you get on well with them."

"i think you'd be a great mum." he said almost in a whisper. you did not expect this. trent and you have been together for over a year already, but you've never had this talk.

"are you trying to tell me something ?" you asked, looking up at him.

"i don't know, not really, i was just thinking that maybe-" you put an end to his suffering quickly when you noticed his stammering.

"i'm joking trent... i think you'd be a great dad, the best actually."

he looked at you lovingly and kissed you in a manner that was definitely different than when the girls were here.

his kisses started trailing down your neck as you moved your head to the side, implicitly telling him to keep going.

"should we start practicing then mmh ?"

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ghostytoad · 5 months

Note

hey so how do you think the rottmnt turtles would deal with the boys being busy and s/o comes up behind them and gives them a hug and then lets go and somehow they had snuck a xmas gift bag on their lap and s/o is gone from the room. Inside the gift bag is three things; Something they’ve been wanting for fun, something domestically useful and homemade cookies?

i'm gonna have to break this up into 4 parts again because it's a bit too long for tumblr's block limit agaiiin

* Season of Surprises *

ROTTMNT Boys receive an unexpected gift

Summary: The boys have been working themselves to the shell. Between patrols, kicking villanous butt, and general hero business, it leaves little time for their darling Reader. Fortunately, 'tis the season of gift-giving.

Oneshot for: Raphael

GN! Reader; Romantic; Fluff; Mild angst; Pre-established relationship || Words: 1k

Donnie | Leo | Mikey

Raph:

His fun gift: A giant turtle plush

His useful gift: Phone big enough to fit in his big hands

His cookies: Chocolate chunk cookies

It had been an entire week since Raphael had gotten any sleep and the low, unintelligable mumbling that rumbled in his chest made it obvious that he could really use the rest. His body, mind, and very spirit were aching for a peaceful night's sleep and Raph was determined to will himself into bed despite the aches that riddled his body threatening to topple him over. He had barely reached past his room's doorway before he collapsed forward with a thud and a delayed groan, his face colliding with the cold, hard floor.

'Well, this isn't any better-' he thought to himself and struggled to wriggle and worm his body across with floor, the dragging of his spikes leaving scratches and cracks on the unmoving concrete. He'd worry about the scuff in the morning For now, his bed was far too inviting for his overworked body to ignore and by god was he going to get some sleep tonight. The week prior had been nothing but back to back patrols, the brutal rate of which started taking a major toll on the titan's massive form. The long-neglected bruises, scratches, and scrapes dotting his body made his quest for a good night's sleep all the more pressing. He was only inches away from the foot of his bed when his trek was interrupted by the pattering of soft footsteps beside him.

"Mikey, I'm not carrying you back to your room." he deadpanned, flattening his raised torso back onto the floor hoping to discourage his playful little brother from jumping onto his back and demanding a piggyback ride. As the footsteps stopped right next to his face, Raph turned his head and looked up through squinted eyes. Instead of olive green legs standing beside him, he was met with what he recognized as his significant other's kneeling form next to his face, a wrapped box being held out toward him. Raph blinked slowly up at Y/N and reached a tenative arm up to accept the gift.

"Babe, hey!" his voice was deeper and much slower than he'd wanted it to be, "What's with the-"

As soon as the parcel left their hands, Y/N wordlessly smiled down at the snapping turtle mutant and started back out the door in a haste.

"Uh… Th-Thanks! Love ya too!" he'd called out after them, the last part sounding uncertain considering they'd left in a hurry without so much as a greeting. Did they hate him all of a sudden? Were they mad at him? Did they mean to leave him a present sooner? Did they think he was unattractive lying on the floor like that? Okay, maybe the last one was a bit of a stretch, but nothing was off-limits in Raph's overthinking mind. But they'd left a gift, surely they must still at least LIKE him?

The turtle had glanced at the box that sat in his large palm, sitting himself up to examine his partner's handiwork. Chuckling to himself, he admired how delicately the red foil wrapping paper had been folded, edges neat and free of crinkles. The golden lace bow that sat so beautifully on top could only have come from their careful and precise hand; if there were ever someone with a knack for gift wrapping, it was his beloved Y/N.

In a thoughtless swish and tear, he unwrapped the plain medium sized box that hid underneath. His attention was caught by the little sticky note taped to the side of the box, reading:

Merry Christmas, my Red Angel!

I know you've been working extra hard and I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you and everything you do! Let me know how you like your new gifts!

Love, Y/N

PS. I named him Raph Jr.

"Raph Jr, huh?" he'd hummed while a cheeky, lovesick grin stretched across the boy's face and a dark blush colored his green cheeks. What did he ever do to deserve someone so wonderful and thoughful? How could he ever hope to repay them for such a kind gesture? His dreamy eyes read over the love note again and again, drinking in every sweet little word. All he could do was flail his hands and giggle like a little girl, fangirling quietly on the floor of his room not wanting to bring his brothers' attention to his silly little display. If they knew what a lovesick mess their big brother was and how easily Y/N could fluster him, the teasing would be merciless.

Lovingly, he eagerly dug in, tugging and pulling at the stubborn object packed tightly into the little box. After a few gentle and ineffective yanks, he gave a strong pull and forced the soft gift free of its tight enclosure, causing him to stumble onto his back in the process. The plush gift decompressed mid-air with an audible POOF and in a bounce, landed on top of the unsuspecting ninja.

"Wh-What the-?!" it took him a minute to focus his eyes on the large, green turtle plush that continued fluffing itself up to its full huggable capacity.

"Raph Jr…?" he snickered and sat himself up once again with the oversized stuffie letting out a squeak as he rested his elbows on its fleece shell.

"You can't sneak up on people like that!" Raph cooed in his baby voice, "Must've been a rough ride being stuffed into that itty bitty box, poor lil' guy. Don't you worry, wittle one, Papa Raph's gotcha now~"

Giving the plush a tight squeeze in his large arms, Raph let himself fall back onto the floor, nuzzling into the cozy warmth of the stuffed animal and slowly started to drift off. Falling deep asleep in a matter of seconds, he hadn't realized the cookies and even smaller box that still sat in the gift box. By far, the plush was more than enough for him now.

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purinfelix · 2 months

Text

gorgeous ˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚

pairing: reader x joao felix summary: when a new player joins the team you manage media for, you're eager to make a good impression - that is, until you actually catch a glimpse of him warnings: none! w/c: 1k

a/n: i've actually had this fic in the works ever since i started this blog but never managed to finish it ... i had planned for it to be longer but i like this idea too much to spoil it through overwriting so here you go <;33

♪ now playing: gorgeous by taylor swift ♪

“I just,” you pause for a bit, eyes wondering around the empty locker room as you search for the right words, “I just don’t like him, alright?”

“Yeah, you’ve made that very clear by the fact that he’s all you’ve spoken about for the past fifteen minutes,” Pedri said sarcastically as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

You could only huff in response, fiddling with the ‘media advisor’ pass hanging from your neck. You were leaned against the doorframe of the locker room entrance, waiting for him as he did the final checks to make sure no one had left anything behind.

“What’s it to you anyways?” you piped up, trying your best to sound nonchalant as you did.

“He’s one of our newest players, and you’re part of our media team. It would certainly make things easier if the two of you got along.”

“Look, it’s not like I’m making a big deal out of it. I shook his hand, I smiled, and I took his pictures like I was supposed to. But that isn’t going to stop me from getting bad vibes from him, okay?”

“Alright, whatever you say,” Pedri said, though the slight upturn of his lip told you otherwise. Catching a glimpse of this expression prompted you to smack his shoulder playfully as you followed him out of the room and down the dimly lit hallway.

The ‘him’ in question was none other than one of Barcelona’s newest loan players: Joao Felix, to whom you had just been introduced to during an afternoon training session, and Joao’s first with his new team. Of course, the media crew had spent most of it following the pair of Joaos around, taking an endless slew of pictures and videos to commemorate their arrival.

The ‘him’ in question was no other than one of Barcelona’s newest loan players - Joao Felix, to whom you had just been introduced to during an afternoon training session, and Joao’s first with his new team. Of course, the media crew had spent most of it following the new pair around, taking picture after picture to commemorate their arrival, much to the dismay of the other players. You could’ve sworn you overheard Gavi mumbling to Fermin about how ‘unfair’ it was that the two newbies were getting so much attention and you couldn’t help but partially share his sentiment.

Even so, as a member of the team’s media crew you were determined to do your job to the best of your ability and make the best first impression possible. After the session itself had ended, you found your opportunity when you spotted Felix sitting alone, sipping from his water bottle. You walked over as casually as you could manage, and as non-awkwardly as a first-interaction between ‘coworkers’ could be. You only managed to get a few steps in his direction before he was alerted of your presence, causing his attention to turn from his bottle onto you, gaze locking onto yours.

You couldn’t describe the feeling as anything but pure shock. The greeting you had been planning in your head all afternoon seemed to disappear into thin air as soon as his eyes made contact with yours, and all that came out of your mouth was a soft, sort of strangled-sounding noise. You were frozen in place, fists clenching at your sides as your mind raced for something, anything to do.

Something to do about the embarrassing blush spreading across your face. About the quickening of your heart as it pounded in your chest. About the fact that he was looking right at you, and the fact that he was so … gorgeous. So insanely gorgeous and insanely smug, once he realised that your reaction was in fact his own fault - evidenced by the smirk spreading across his face.

“Can I help you?” his tone was low, teasing almost. He seemed to notice that you were frozen in place, standing up from his spot on the bench and deciding to meet you halfway, with smooth, easy movements. It all seemed to annoy you so much, that he could stand there and look so gorgeous, and be so seemingly aware of it too.

“Ah- well,” you began to struggle, internally cursing yourself for how flustered you sounded, “I just wanted to introduce myself, you know, since I’m part of the media crew here.”

You extended a shaky hand out to him, which he took, and you tried not to focus too much on the way his much larger hand enveloped your own.

“I’m Joao, but I’m guessing you already knew that,” the slight peak in his tone and raise of his eyebrow as he ended his sentence prompted you to return his firm grip as the two of you shook hands.

“Yeah, I did,” you say, a little sterner than you intended, all facade of civility having melted away and been replaced by pure irritation. Something about this guy, and his stupid smirk, and his dumb hair, and sparkling eyes, and strong hands and-

“Hey, Joao!” came the voice of one of your coworkers, who waved the player over with a clipboard in hand, likely to snap some more photos for the team’s social media. You felt his hand pull away from yours, ashamed at the momentary feeling of reluctance that struck you as it did. His gaze was still on you though, which you were so harshly reminded of as you locked eyes for a couple more excruciatingly difficult seconds.

“I’ll see you around then, nice to meet you.” One last flash of that smug smile was all you got before he was jogging off to your coworker, leaving you standing there, slack-jawed, cheeks flushed, hands a little sweaty yet clenched in frustration.

#joao felix #joão félix #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix fluff #joao felix oneshot #joao felix fic #fanfic #football #oneshot #fc barça #fc barcelona #jet writes ★#purinfelix

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strawhbrrries · 4 months

Text

Lose Control, i.

pairing: tattoo artist!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: you learn your tattoo artist, who also happens to be the person you love the most, is equally as in love with you but you can't deal with the repercussions of his past.

warnings: female pronouns, mentions of female masturbation, , mutual pining but they're both idiots, , tattooed frank with long hair!!, no use of y/n or descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 1k words

authors note: i would like to thank teddy swims for the muse to write again, please enjoy!

song to listen to while reading: lose control by teddy swims

find the masterlist here! read the next part here!

The sun peeked through the curtains, illuminating the chest of the man in the bed next to you. His face was turned away from you, but you knew from the way he was sleeping and the scent on your pillow exactly who it was. Frank Castle. You didn’t remember much about last night but you did remember you had places to be, and so did he.

“Frankie, wake up.” You shook him gently, smiling softly at the hairs plastered to his forehead and the smile he always adorned when he realized it was you.

“What time is it?” He grumbled, rubbing his eyes and sitting up slowly, reaching around the end table for his phone.

“Late, c’mon we gotta go.”

You threw his shirt at him, hurriedly putting your own clothes on to make it to lunch with your mom on time. If it was up to her, she’d have invited Frank too, but it wasn’t. She pointed out one time that most friends don’t sleep in a bed together five days out of the week when they both have places to live, and every time you woke up next to him it was the only thing on your mind.

Frank was an attractive man, anyone with eyes could see that, and the what if was always there. But, he had a reputation. As did many other tattoo artists who were too attractive for their own good. You refused to be another notch in his belt, a one and done, someone he’d forget the second he came. In order for any of those things to be true, he had to be playing the long game, and you weren’t going to find out. No matter how many times you woke up with damp underwear from wet dreams of him, or the amount of times you caught yourself squeezing your thighs together when he was around.

“Where’s Frankie?” Was the first thing your mom asked when you arrived at the small cafe she had picked for lunch, you were convinced she’d rather have him as a child than you.

“He wasn’t invited to our mother-daughter lunch, momma.” You rolled your eyes playfully, giving her a warm hug and sitting opposite of her.

“Did he sleep with you?” She asked, nonchalantly, no doubt just trying to pry and see if you’d given in to his advances yet.

“Yes, and no we did not have sex. Premarital sex is a sin, momma.”

“You’re the phoneist christian I've ever met. I just don’t get it, both of you have feelings for each other. Just go out?” She took a sip of the tea in front of her, never breaking eye contact with you as you considered her words.

“You must hate me, I’m not getting my heart broken by some guy who could have any woman he wanted.” You shrugged, playing with the straw in the drink she had ordered for you.

“Men who plan on breaking a woman’s heart don’t typically live with them, or have relationships with their parents, or give them free expensive tattoos, or take them to the hospital when they’re too stubborn to go. I could keep going, honey.”

A part of you knew she was right, but the other, much bigger, part of you couldn’t help but let go of the anxiety that played in the back of your mind every time the thought of dating him came up. You’d rather shoot yourself in the foot than trust a man, even if this one had never done anything to make you doubt him or his words.

Frank Castle was one of the sweetest men you’d ever met, even if he looked big, bad and scary. He was covered in tattoos, head to toe, that he’d done probably seventy-five percent of, but you felt so incredibly safe with him. He was the one to take you to the hospital when your appendix burst and you swore it was just really bad pms, he argued that he’d been there for enough of your periods to know it wasn’t pms and you argued back that you lived through more periods than he had. He didn’t record you when you were high off the anesthesia because he knew your biggest fear was saying something you would regret and then everyone seeing it.

He was the sweetest man you’d ever met.

But the reputation he accumulated before the two of you met haunted him every day, he’d take it all back if he could. If it would convince you that giving him a chance was worth the risk, to just know for sure you craved him how he craved you. He gladly took the slivers of your life that you allowed him to have, seared them in the back of his mind and vowed to never forget just in case you took it all away.

Three years ago you sat in his chair, nervous and unable to make eye contact with him, for your very first tattoo. Now you were littered in tattoos, all done by him, and he couldn’t be prouder. It was his own personal way of marking what was his, and it seemed to work because you hadn’t had a boyfriend since you met him. Frank beams with pride when he tells everyone you had a boyfriend at your first appointment and then showed up to your next one single, he tells everyone it was because of his ‘devilishly good looks’ but the thing he doesn’t know? He was right.

You left that appointment wetter than you’d ever been in your life, you’d had a boyfriend for a year and a half and he never even got you a fraction that turned on. You took the coldest shower of your life, trying to rid yourself of the impure thoughts of him only to fail and spend the rest of your shower desperately chasing a high you knew he’d be able to give you. You broke up with your boyfriend that same night.

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irwinsblender · 4 months

Text

reassurance

A/N: hi everyone!! this is my first fanfic that i’m posting on here and the first ever oneshot that i’ve written! as it’s coming up to christmas I decided to write a festive themed oneshot as my first post! i hope you enjoy :)

pairing: ashton x reader

summary: reader has worries about meeting ashton’s family in person for the first time

warnings: a small amount of anxiety

word count: 1k

✩ ✩ ✩

Usually, you were always excited for the Christmas season. Celebrating with loved ones and giving out gifts had always been your favourite thing to do.

This year was slightly different.

Ashton had suggested spending Christmas in Australia with his family this year. After many video calls had gone well with them, he assumed it wouldn’t be a big deal for you. Of course, it wasn’t at first. You were over the moon about getting to go to his home country for the first time.

With your flight there coming up in a few days time, you’d both been packing your bags in preparation. Including any gifts that had been bought for his family.

When you decided on taking a break from packing, Ashton offered to pick up some food. Expecting you to be ready to eat once he returned. Instead, he found you sitting out on his back porch, staring out at the darkening sky above.

He considered leaving you to your thoughts, thinking that you’d been okay all day. Something inside him told him that he couldn’t leave you alone. Something was wrong.

The back door opening caught your attention, glancing back to see Ashton walking outside. You sighed, leaning your head against the back of the chair you were sat on. He joined you, sitting down, waiting until you were ready to talk.

You cuddled into Ashton’s side, slipping your arms around his torso with your head against his shoulder. His arm draped around your shoulders.

“Everything okay, baby?” Ashton asked.

You shrugged, not sure how to tell him that you were freaking out about meeting his family in person for the first time.

“Is it about Australia?” He tried to answer for you if you didn’t want to speak. You nodded. “You’re worried for the flight? I know you’re concerned about how long it’ll be.”

“No, it’s not that,” you closed your eyes, trying to figure out how to explain your feelings. “I’m anxious… about meeting your family.”

“Oh,” he said. Not expecting you to say that. “You’ve been alright talking to them on our calls though, haven’t you?”

“This is different though, a lot different,” you sat up again, crossing your legs in front of you as you faced Ashton. “It’s not talking to them through a screen this time, I’ll be seeing your mum, your siblings, your grandparents, it’s a lot, Ash.”

With the way your voice almost broke at the end, Ashton couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen a hint of your anxiety to meet them sooner. You’d talked many times since agreeing, and none of those times had you expressed how worried you were becoming.

“You’re good at talking to people you haven’t met before,” Ashton tried to remind you. “You were fine talking with the guys the first time you met them.”

You looked away from Ashton after he said that, seeing the sun getting lower and lower. With how you were sat, Ashton moved to rest his hand on your knee, caressing his thumb back and fourth to comfort you.

“I’m not worried about talking to them,” you finally admitted. “I’m worried that they won’t like me.”

“Baby…” Ashton looked at you with a sad expression, the same way he always looked when you said things like that. “They like you already, they’ve seen the way you are on call, or when we’ve posted together.”

“How can you say that when they haven’t met me? Yes, we’ve talked, but over a video call.” You slouched in your seat, running one hand frustratedly through your hair. “I’m different in person than over the phone, you know that better than anyone. I’m quiet if someone calls me, but I can be the loudest person in the room when I hang out with our friends.”

“You’re my girlfriend, they’ll like you, baby.”

“just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean they’ll like me.” You replied stubbornly.

Ashton figured he’d have to take a different approach to how you were thinking. He moved to face you more, patting his lap for you to sit on, which you could never say no to. Now sat comfortably with your hands in his, he continued talking.

“They haven’t chosen whether to like you or not depending on if you’re quiet in one setting or loud in another,” he placed his hands on your waist, rubbing up and down softly. “They liked you even before they saw your face. They liked you as soon as they realised how happy you make me. All they’re worried about is that you care for me and love me.”

You nodded, listening to what he said to you. What he was saying was true in every sense. Your parents were the same with him. As long as you’re happy, and as long as he takes care of you, they couldn’t not like him.

“and you do care for me. Every day you care for me, and love me, I feel it every second we’re together.” He cupped your cheek in his palm as you leaned into his grip. “They like you because I’ve told them about the real you, the you that I fell in love with, the you that I want to be with forever.”

“What if I mess up or say something wrong as soon as we get there?”

“I’ll be there to jump in,” He reassured. “If you get too anxious, I’ll start talking. If you aren’t sure what to say, I’ll talk for you. Until you’re more comfortable with my family I’m more than happy to do whatever you need to feel okay.”

You took a breath as you nodded at him. Feeling slightly better about this whole situation. All you needed was a little reassurance from Ashton, and that’s exactly what you got.

“I love you, you know that right?” You chuckled softly.

“And I love you,” Ashton leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. “You’ll talk to me next time you have any worries?”

“Yea, I will.” You promised, looping your arms around his neck as he hugged you closer to him.

For now, everything had turned out okay in the end. You’d admitted how you felt, Ashton understood and didn’t mind at all. He was going to suggest going inside when you spoke again.

“What if your sister doesn’t like me?” You asked.

“Don’t give me that! You two are practically best friends already.” Ashton laughed. “Now, come on, we should eat before the food’s completely cold.”

✩ ✩ ✩

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin x reader #5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin angst #christmas fanfic #5sos x reader #ashton irwin imagines

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urrockstar-xe · 6 months

Text

never enough - j.m x fem!reader

posted nov 2nd, 2023 12:16 am

hey, sorry i ghosted, I'm not doing to hot but here's something, I'm trying a little November challenge where i try and cope with life things where i write an imagine/blurb inspired by something that happened during my day, here's an argument i had with my mommy in a jj fic lol this isn't my best work but i hope u like it :3

this includes wording stating that the reader's hair is a texture that is easy to play with and the use of y/n and probably inaccurate JJ but i needed his comfort sue me

summary: How do you deal with having to have the very same (or at least very similar) conversations with your loved ones that involve what you're currently going through? Because that's the exact problem you’ve been having with JJ. angst to fluff??? kinda? hurt/comfort? idk

masterlist

wordcount: 1k

“You never do anything to show that you love me, JJ! You throw your arm around my shoulder and call it a fucking day”

Eventually what once was calm and civil and even mature conversations turn into screaming matches.

“I don’t know what else you fucking want from me, Y/n!” JJ’s voice bounced off the walls of the chateau which was luckily empty due to the small fire in the back.

“JJ, I expressed what I needed, I used my words and my actions to show and tell you exactly what I needed and you still couldn’t do me one small favor? I just wanted you to run your fingers through my hair a few times is that so fucking hard?” Your own voice was wavering in volume, sometimes louder and sometimes quiet, defeated even.

“I listen when you vent, I do better when we have a problem, I even fucking cancel my plans to spend time with you, nothing I do is ever fucking enough for you!” and there it was, the words slipping out of your dear boyfriend’s mouth before he could even think about it, the words that thrown in your face so very often, the words that made you question everything about yourself

He was trying, he was listening and he was being incredibly patient and understanding with you.

The look of regret from his words alone was enough to realize that.

Until that gross feeling of pride came onto you, possessing your entire being with the rage you’ve had building inside of you for months.

“Fuck you, JJ. fuck you, because I got upset with you and when I tried to walk away and blow off steam you got pissed and bitchy and didn’t fucking let me, and then when I explained my issue to you, you gave me a fucking attitude.” Your words were fast now, spewing out like a soda when you shake it too hard.

“I needed you! And I told you that! Just like you asked me to! How am I supposed to properly communicate with you when you tell me one thing and then turn around and do the fucking opposite!” it was less of a question and more of an accusation but at this point, it was hard to care.

You had tried responsibly talking to him, getting to a better place with him, but it wasn’t getting anywhere. Your relationship with JJ getting heavier on your shoulders and piling what smelt like loads of shit onto what you’ve already been struggling with.

“Y/n, baby-” JJ started but you were already out the door, feeling the guilt from ignoring him as you walked away yet still ignoring his calls even as your friends called out at the sight of you leaving what was supposed to be a night of freedom for the pogues.

When the next day came around the avoiding calls started, when JJ and Y/n got into a fight it caused tension in the entire friend group. There's a reason “pogues don’t date pogues” is such a big rule for you and your friends.

It wasn’t a rift it was just a fear, a fear of losing everything you all had,

all that you guys had.

But you couldn’t deal with the confrontation today, so you turned off your ringer and went about your day as normal, morning routine, work, go home, homework.

5 pm rolled around and you thought that maybe they had given up (feeding your delusional anxieties and fears at no fault of the pogues but still)

Then there was the knock on your door, and then another after you ignored the first,

This pattern repeated until eventually, you sighed, getting up from your bed to go down the hall and answer who you knew was your impatient boyfriend at the door.

“Hey, beautiful!” JJ’s voice was quiet as if he was astonished at the fact that you actually opened the door. The array of flowers sat loosely in his hands before he watched you look down at them and back up at him, wordlessly.

“Oh! This is for you, I uh, wanted to apologize.” JJ was almost stumbling over his words as he went to hand you the flowers, carefully examining you as you took them and moved back into your home,

He followed, mumbling more apologies before you set the small bouquet on the kitchen counter and turned to him.

“Listen, Y/n, You were right, I did ask you to be more clear on things you need from me and you were, and I, I dismissed you completely, I was just drunk and all over the place and I’m overworked like hell lately but these aren’t excuses and I’m sorry, my sweet girl, I really mean it” JJ’s words were calculated, he had thought about them all day and he did mean it,

despite this, there was still an aching feeling in your chest,

and the confusion and guilt you felt for still being upset about this stupid mistake caused the recurring tears to well up in your eyes as you stared at JJ’s chest, avoiding his eyes.

“Oh, baby” he whispered, quiet and delicate like if he spoke any louder you’d fall apart in front of him.

Carefully, JJ pulled you into him, not knowing what else to do but you let him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as sobs wrecked through your body, broken apologies barely being heard through your tears and shaky breaths but JJ still held you,

Playing with your hair and shushing you and whispering “It's okay, baby” to every little apology that slipped past your lips.

You stood with each other like this until you eventually calmed down, JJ had managed to lean against the counter and in turn, get you to lean on him.

“I’ll do better baby I promise” He whispered into your hair, hoping you could hear it through the small pains of your hiccups from crying.

“I’m sorry there's always something wrong with me” you mumbled back, the soft laugh from JJ catching you off guard as he pulled you back just enough to hold your tear-stained cheeks in his hands.

“There’s always somethin’ wrong with us, we’re pogues.” He teased, earning a quiet scoff from you before he shut you up with a soft kiss pressed to your swollen lips and then one on your nose, and another on your forehead.

“We’ll be okay, pretty lady, we’ll get through it,”

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