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erodasfishtacos · 3 years ago

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HSLOT PHILLY

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Harry is predictable.

He falls into the same patterns during every tour since he was on the Up All Night with One Direction.

The excitement that comes with the first couple of shows begins to fade as he starts his world wide tour that doesn’t end for nearly eight months.

His constant adrenaline wears off and his exhaustion from not having toured in two years settles deep in his bones.

YN senses it from a mile away, has nearly eleven years experience dealing with her jet-lagged, exhausted, and stubborn husband.

It hits the day of the Philadelphia show, they got in late the night before, and YN always set her alarm for seven thirty in the morning to workout.

Ninety-five percent of the time, Harry got up with her and they either did a jog around the new city or they took advantage of the in-hotel gym.

Four percent of the time, he would whine and tug the comforter over his head, whimpering, “M’too tired, baby. Stay in bed w’me.”

And then the one percent, which was today.

The alarm emits a low, constant beep that rouses YN, in the time she takes to rub her eye and come back into reality - Harry hisses with a sharp edge, “Turn tha’ fuckin’ thing off.”

She bites her tongue at his tone, reaching to turn it off but she can already tell what day they’re going to have.

YN slips out from under the covers and automatically gets a comment from her husband, it another whiney demand, “Cover m’feet, y’too the blanket off them.”

“Yes, your majesty,” YN replies reproachfully, rearranging the blankets before quietly moving around the room to change.

“Stop makin’ so much noise.”

“Turn off tha’ light.”

“S’too early f’this, d’you not care that m’tired?”

She chooses to ignore the remarks, hoping that he can sleep off the attitude.

When YN is about to leave, he grumbles, “Y’need to kiss me goodbye.”

Harry purses his lips for a soft kiss, not moving a muscle, and after that - she leaves to head down to the gym.

YN is required a body guard, definitely when she isn’t with Harry or a group of people, and she decided not to follow those rules today.

She had her TPWK water bottle in hand, a cute workout set on ***, and her AirPods tucked in her ear with some Spice Girls playing.

It’s only about twenty minutes into her exercise, a light jog on the treadmill, that a young girl slips up beside the machine.

YN is kind, stopping the belt to smile for a selfie before the girl scampers off and she resumes her run - music blasting.

However, what YN didn’t know, is that fans had found out early in the morning which hotel they where at and a hoard was rushing towards the small gym.

It’s not even ten minutes later when a swarm of fans in rushing into the work area, lining up around her machine with their phones flashing and recording.

She tries to be nice, “Hey! Uh, I’m just trying to workout. I’m sorry, but no pictures please.”

Then there is loud protest and people shoving each other, begging and pleading for a selfie or for her to sign something - all because she was Harry’s wife.

There is literally no exit to escape to, so she relents and anxiously calls Frank - one of the body guards - to come retrieve her.

The whole way back up to her hotel room, Frank is lecturing her about safety and how she could have gotten hurt.

And when he scans the keycard for her hotel room, she feels her stomach drop because Harry is sat against the kitchen counter.

His brown locks are rumpled and going every which way, just in his briefs that are low on his narrow hips, and absolutely irate expression on his face.

“Are y’fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Harry snaps, brow furrowed and jaw clenched - his arms were crossed tightly against his chest.

“Good morning to you, sunshine,” YN mutters, shutting the door and kicking off her tennis shoes to the side.

“Don’t,” Harry replies sourly, “Please explain t’me why I get woken up by Frank to be told y’getting mobbed in the gym? And y’didn’t to call him.”

YN bristles at his tone, giving him a pointed look as she steps further into the room, “It’s not a big deal. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Y’right about that, y’weren’t thinkin’. It is a big deal, y’could have gotten hurt - shouldn’t have t’babysit m’own wife,” Harry huffs, stomping back over to the bed and sliding back under the covers.

“You better watch your tone-“

They’re interrupted with a knock to their door, Harry throws the covers over his head and leaves YN to open the door.

It’s Jeff, who barges in with a coffee in one hand, “Come on, H. Did you forget? You have soundcheck early today and then you have to meet with FullStop to review the details of that new merchandise contract.”

“No, move it,” The popstar groans, muffled from the heavy blankets over him, and his manager and wife give each other a knowing look.

“We can’t. Get up, we need to leave in fifteen,” Jeff replies casually, unbothered as he sips from his to-go mug.

It has Harry dramatically ripping off the covers and getting out of bed, as he charges off towards the bathroom, he shouts backwards, “Wish someone would have fuckin’ told me! Like m’manager or m’wife!”

“Oh my god, here we go,” YN groans quietly to Jeff, snatching up the few things she needs for the venue as well as Harry’s and shoving them in his duffle.

He comes out a few moments later, dressed in running shorts and a vintage Queen shirt - going to tug on his Nikes without a word to either.

But in true Harry fashion, even when he’s mad, he’s still a gentleman. He slips the duffle off his wife’s shoulder so she doesn’t have to carry it.

“Thank you,” She murmurs but he avoids eye contact, being the first to open the hotel room and trudge towards the awaiting car.

It’s a quiet ride, Harry looks out the window with a deep frown and puffy eyes - eyes heavy from the lack of sleep.

Usually, he’d be curled into YN - snuggling as close as possible and asking for her to pet his hair to soothe him.

Not today. But he does have his hand on her thigh.

There’s already fans at the arena and Harry doesn’t acknowledge them - keeps his head down and walks quickly into the private entrance past the barricades.

When a irritated fan screams, “Asshole! We waited all night here for you!”

YN watches as Harry goes to turn, to say something but she pushes him forward through the door to prevent him from doing something he’d regret when wasn’t in a foul mood.

They manage through the long hallways, filled with bustling tour crew, and everybody there to make the show happen.

Sound check isn’t as fun as it usually is, the band stays low-key when Harry does exactly what he needs to do and nothing more.

And after the merch meeting, Harry has reached his limit apparently.

He was so tired, so fucking moody that he couldn’t deal with anymore human interaction.

YN has to step in when she gets a text from Harry Lambert.

Come get your husband. Sarah’s Kitchen.

She sighs, excusing herself from hanging out with Jeff and Glenne - she can hear him from the hallway and now she’s finally get irritated.

“I asked for that specific brand. It’s literally one of the only things I’ve asked for on this tour.”

YN takes a deep breathe before stepping in, there are crew trying not to stare as Harry complains to Sarah about something unimportant.

“Harry,” She says flatly, “Come on.”

He snatches his water bottle and follows his wife out without another word, trailing behind until they end up in his dressing room.

“You need to stop. You’re being a literal nightmare today,” YN tells him, watching him as he digs in the duffle.

“Where is m’charger? Did y’not pack it?” He ignores her words.

“I must have forgot. Harry, I know you’re tired but you can’t be treating everyone like-“

Harry pushes back the bag, seething for no reason, “I’ll treat people however the fuck I want!”

“You’re acting like a spoiled popstar right now,” YN replies, attempting to stay level-headed and calm with him.

“S’my show! M’tour!”

“Yes and everyone is here to support you and you’re treating them like shit. Including me, I’m your wife - the one person in the world that’s here for you no matter what and you’re being downright mean.”

“Y’so fuckin’ sensitive,” Harry mutters angrily, digging around to try to find a charger in a different bag.

And…that stung a bit.

When he doesn’t get a response, he looks up and notices how her demeanor had changed - it brings him back to reality for a little bit.

“I’m not going to stay here and be talked to like that because you don’t feel good. I’ll leave you alone because you are being insufferable.”

“Bab-“

YN is already out the door, storming back to Sarah’s kitchen to apologize for her husband’s diva behavior and everyone shrugs her off - knowing it’s not her fault.

She is sat down with the band and a few others when her husband saunters in, he doesn’t look at anyone else as he walks up to his wife.

“Baby, can I talk to you?” He mumbles, his warm hand coming to cup her shoulder.

“Harry,” YN says back, they’ve been together for so long that those words are all she needs to say for him to formulate a response.

“Come nap w’me please, need you. I’ll apologize t’you,” Harry says, his palm encompassing and big on her.

“Harry,” She repeats.

The crew looks on in amusement as Harry huffs, he lifts his head and speaks loudly to the room at once, “I apologize for my behavior. I have no excuse for getting upset like I have been today. I hope you guys can forgive me.”

Everyone assures him that they forgive him, most of them have dealt with actual spoiled celebrities and Harry was just having a bad day (which still really wasn’t that bad.)

“Okay, come on, bunny,” YN agrees, satisfied and can’t help but smile a bit when she stands up and Harry automatically intertwines their fingers to hold her hand.

The sofa in his dressing room folds out to be a bed and they still had hours before the show.

Once they’ve locked the doo and settled down on the mattress - they’re both laying on their sides, facing each other.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” Harry whispers, “I haven’t been very nice t’you today. I was just upset about the gym thing and just being so tired.”

YN hums, combing throwing his fluffy curls with her fingers as his hands explore over her hips and belly like always.

“You always get like this every once in a while on tour, like a little spoiled popstar,” YN says softly, no sharpness in her tone, “You also need to be nice to your wife.”

“M’always nice t’my wife,” He mumbles childishly, leaning forward to nip at her chin, “I am sorry, know tha’ when I act like that it embarrasses you.”

“You’re better than acting like that,” YN reminds him, allowing him to tug her into his warm, now bare chest, “I’m never gonna let you turn into some fame monster. You’re gonna stay the kind, funny, compassionate person I met when I was young.”

And when YN doesn’t get a reply, she glances to see Harry’s eyes shut, mouth slightly parted as he breathes rhythmically and his entire face relaxes as he sleeps.

“Still my boy,” YN murmurs lovingly, nuzzling before letting sleep overtake her.

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imthebadguyyy · 3 years ago

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maybe something like interviewer asking her sexist questions and the boys stand up for her , after that interview she feels insecure and the boys comfort her . that's just an idea you don't have to write it !! <33

I hope you like it, and I'm so sorry about the delay 😭 I couldn't find my footing with this one, and I hope it's what you wanted ! Have a lovely day 💙

The One Where They're There For Her

Pairing - One Direction x Reader (6thmember!female!reader)

Fandom - One Direction (Directioners)

Summary - A particularly sexist interview decides to reduce you to just a sexual being and makes no effort to hide his misogyny. But the boys are there to support you.

Warnings - sexualization of the lgbt community, sexist comments, swearing, (honestly I hated myself for writing some of the comments here,and I'm so sorry)

Being a part of the biggest band in the world comes with certain responsibilities. Not responsibilities that come along with signing a recording contract, but those that a person deems themselves responsible for. For example, as the only female in a boyband, a female with a fanbase as large as yours, you took it upon yourself to always stand up for what's right, and to be an ally for the causes close to your heart.

That meant that your social media was often flooded with information about important causes, or your opinions on issues like feminism. Was it always well received? Heck no. There were people filled your feed with hate and comments calling you the most horrible names and labelling you a 'man hater' and a 'bitch' But you didn't let it get to you. On most days. On days like today, it was all you could do to keep it together. It had been a tiring few days, touring, recording, performing and doing an endless amount of interviews and photoshoots. It was safe to say you were on the last of your nerves, having battled your way through a makeup artist who had insisted on pointing out your flaws and had used a shit ton of makeup to cover them up. You had battled a photographer who had not hesitated to tell you that if you didn't look more feminine people would think you were turning into a man.

Before you could retaliate, Paul had dragged him away and told management to cancel the photoshoot, and find another photographer before grabbing the six of you some sandwiches and had let you all go back for a quick power nap at the hotel. Then in about half an hour he had woken you up, to get you ready for another interview. That's how you were here, in a white jumpsuit and a black blazer jacket, paired with black heels. Another day, another interviewer that got on your nerves. But this one, this one was different. This interviewer was different, but also the same. Another misogynistic man who thought he was entitled to stare at your ass and cleavage, and eye fuck you as you settled into a seat in between Niall and Zayn.

Settling in, you crossed one knee over the other, plastering a fake smile onto your face, as the man leaned back in his chair, throwing you a sleazy smirk. Noticing the look, Zayn shifted so you were out of view of the interviewer, but in view of the audience. It was in moments like this that you were a 100× more grateful to have your boys. They were well aware of how sleazy some interviewers could be, having had plenty of experience with them, and Zayn and Louis in particular were very protective about the way you were treated. Squeezing your thigh softly, he leaned back a little, lips settling into a thin line as he looked at the interviewer with a cold look. A little behind, Louis threw the interviewer a dirty look.

"So, One Direction! Congratulations on the album, as you all know its out on November the 22nd, with eighteen new songs, including the singles Night Changes and Steal My Girl Speaking of stealing girls, do you think I could steal your number Y/N? And may I mention, you look ver, very hot in that outfit" The interviewer joked, throwing you what he thought was a sexy smirk. (P.S - it wasn't) Answering with an awkward laugh, you shook your head, as Niall tensed up beside you. "Aww come on, your'e a pretty girl, I'm a handsome guy, let's go out sometime" he pressed on, ignoring the growing anger in Harry's eyes. "That's umm, nice. But no thanks, I'm not going to go out with you" was your answer, as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Picking up on your nervous tic, Zayn moved his hand to rest on your knee, stopping it from bouncing up and down.

"Aww come on baby, what is it? You like girls or something? Because I wouldn't mind being a part of that action either" the sleazebag chuckled, ignoring the disgusted look Liam sent his way. "That's rude" Liam said, while Zayn tightened his grip on your knee. "Oh come on lads, are you telling me the idea doesn't appeal to you? Two women together, mm, makes me all excited just thinking about it, especially if one of them's Y/N" That comment was all it took for Louis to stand up, turning to the man and saying in a voice much rougher than his usual voice, "Alright, that's fuckin' enough, what the fuck is actually wrong with you?" he was backed up by Liam, who stood up, going to tower over the interviewer, whose eyes had lost some of the sleazy look in them. "All you've done since we walked in here is make those disgusting comments about Y/N, and it's sickening. Have some fucking respect" he practically spat.

Behind him, Zayn took your hand in his and pulled you to your feet, noticing the slight glossiness in them, leading you back to the dressing rooms, while Niall, Liam, Louis and Harry stayed back to continue to snap at the interviewer. "That is no way to treat a woman, and not only are you disrespecting her, you also made those god awful events about seeing women together. Your'e a shame to every single person in this room by talking like that" Harry continued, glancing over his shoulder to check if you were okay.

"And no, it doesn't excite us, because we are not assholes, and you are, a disgusting sleaze who does not deserve the job he has. Fuckin loser" Niall chimed in, standing up and storming out. Louis stood up as well, turning to directly face the cameras and the cameramen and sound technicians, who had all looked shocked when the man had made his comments towards you. "I sure as hell hope you have that on record, so you can see just how fucking sexist this industry is to women. Y/N does the same job as us, works just as hard and has the same number of awards, nominations, and records and yet you decide to only focus on her body, clothes, love life and sexuality. Get a fucking life" he spat at the camera, before walking away himself, eventually followed by Harry and Liam, who apologized to the outraged fans before leaving themselves. As they made their way to the dressing rooms they could hear the audience telling the interviewer to apologize to you, their anger at the way you were treated echoing through the building.

Walking in, Harry caught sigh of you curled up in one of the armchairs, with Louis sitting beside you, while Niall and Zayn talked to a furious Paul. "He had no damn right to treat her like shite, and you need to make sure that he knows those comments were un-fuckin-acceptable" Niall was saying, looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him. "And to make those sickening comments about wanting to get action? Can't we sue him for something?" Was Zayn's reply, glancing over his shoulder at you to make sure you were still okay. "We can't sue him, atleast I don't think we can, but I'll have someone let the smug bastard know that he needs to learn how to respect a woman" Paul said, before leaving the room to give the six of you some time together before you had to head back to the hotel.

"How're you feeling darling?" Louis said, moving over and patting your knee so you moved. "I'm okay" you mumbled back, letting Louis settle in next to you, leaning back to rest on his chest. "He had no fuckin right to say any of that, and don't you let it trouble you for a second" Zayn added, pouring out a cup of tea for you and for Louis and Harry. "I don't care about what he said, I couldn't care less, but it was just so frustrating, sitting there and listening to him just sexualize a whole community of people. You've got to be in a really sad place to think of shit like that. That's what annoyed me. You think I give a damn about what he said about my clothes or wanting to take me out on a date? It was the way he was talking, like he was sure any woman would be glad to have him that irked me. He's really tiresome" was your reply, as you reached forward for a sip of your tea. "That's the right attitude love. Haters gonna hate" Harry said.

"I know that. But I just wish I could punch him once, which sounds mean, but he does kind of deserve it" Niall said, earning a laugh from you. Niall was never usually aggressive, and even now, he wasn't particularly rude but it was rare to see him wanting to punch someone. "It's okay Niall, you don't have to. I can do it myself, but I won't" you replied, leaning up to squeeze his hand. "Besides, Ni, if you went and punched him, I'd do it too, and then we'd all go to jail" Liam chimed in, scrolling through his twitter. "Twitter isn't happy either babe. #stopsexualization and #Y/Ndeservesbetter is trending already" he added, showing you his phone. "If it means some of these sexist asses get their heads out of the sand, I'm happy. But I dont want to to think about it now" you replied, cuddling closer to the warmth radiating from Louis's body.

"Okay, we won't talk about it. Do you want to go back to the hotel?" Harry asked, standing up and walking to the door "No I want to go to Nando's. Anybody else hungry?" You asked, to nods of assent from the boys. "I'm starving. Those stupid sandwiches didn't fill me up at all" Zayn said, standing up to grab his coat and wallet. "I know and I'm craving some hot Peri Peri chicken with some fries. Do you think they'd let me put the lemon and herb sauce on the fries?" You asked, standing up yourself, earning a laugh from Louis. "Your'e an international superstar babe, I think they'd give you some lemon herb sauce" Liam joked.

Laughing, the six of you made your way to the car, with Harry and Niall squishing you in between them, as Louis sat in the back with Liam, and Zayn sat in the front with Paul (he was driving thank GOD) "I'm proud of you darling" Harry chimed in suddenly. "I am too" Niall added. "You know I am" Louis said, before Liam added "Always babe" and Zayn turned to smile at you before adding, "We are all proud of you, and we always will be, not only because you do a damn good job of not listening to the haters, but because you do what you think is right" "Awh come on, your'e gonna make me cry" you mumbled, leaning into Niall's shoulder. "Almost makes me feel bad for teasing you about having an extremely low spice tolerance the last time we were at Nando's Haz" you smirked, earning a roar of laughter from the boys.

"That chicken was spicy love!" "It was lemon and herb with no peri peri!" "And it was spicy!"

And just like that, you were back to messing around with each other. Sleazy interviewers would come and go, but your boys were always there to support you. Always.

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A/N - Thanks for reading ! I'd also like to apologize on the behalf of this fictitious interviewer I made up, I felt so bad while writing some of this 😭 anyways, I hope this is what you wanted! Enjoy !

Tags - @zaynkissbot @gucci-hazza @bxtchboy69

#one direction x reader #one direction x sixth member #one direction imagines #one direction fanfiction #one direction #harry styles x reader #liam payne x reader #louis tomlinson x reader #niall horan x reader #zayn malik x reader #imthebadguyyytags #harry styles #niall horan #liam payne #louis tomlinson #zayn malik

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sweetsbfreex · 3 years ago

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a styles vacation to Hawaii

Summary: a little continuation of this family. The styles take a vacation to Hawaii with mild bumps in the road.

a/n: no warnings, but harry is not famous in this. I’ve never been to Hawaii and do not much of the hawaiian attire/culture, i just did research and put what i found. If there’s any misconceptions or if i’ve offended anyone by accident pls lmk!

Pairings: Dad, Husband!Harry

“Honey, you have to let go so we’re not late for the plane” Harry grunts, trying to stealthily pull Ava away from her hold on Milo.

“No! We can’t leave Mimi” she cries out, cuddling her face into the pup’s fur even more.

“Mimi has to stay with nan, honey” From his tone you can tell he’s losing patience.

It’s a definite eyesore. The whole situation takes place on your mother's porch. You were all meant to say your goodbyes before the three of you–– no Milo–– go off on a small vacation to Hawaii.

Ava is holding on to the australian shepherd, not letting up one bit. You would think she glued herself onto him without anyone knowing, with how she latched on.

Milo in front of your mother's feet, enjoying what he thinks is a hug it seems. Only letting out long whines when Ava's sobs get out of control.

Harry is standing behind Ava, bent at the wait trying to pry her off her best friend.

You're crouched beside her, a hand on her back, trying to convince her to let go.

Ava's poor grandmother stands in the doorway. A look of agony on her face as she watches it all go down.

The–– now three year old–– has been throwing a hissy fit in the car, holding onto Milo's paw. Ever since Harry informed her how they were going to her nan's house to drop off Milo and then hurry to the plane. She saw the news like a terrible taste in her mouth, while she stared at you both in the rearview mirror eyes widened.

You know how much the two love each other, but you didn't expect her to throw a fit like this.

“Ava I know you’re upset but, you gotta let go honey so Mimi can have fun with grandma. Don’t you want to go on the airplane, hm? Weren’t you excited about it?” You ask her, beginning to unclasp one hand and go for the other, trying to bring into your arms.

But with quickness, she remembered the only way she would be able to go on this vacation. Without Milo, she wraps her arms around Milo again.

“Baby, Milo has to stay. Dog’s aren’t allowed in Hawaii” At this moment, Harry is willing to try anything.

“They’re not?” she asks, tilting her head back a little to see her father’s face.

“Nope, Milo won’t have fun there. He’ll have more fun with Nana” he tells her, bringing his thumbs down to wipe away the tears.

“...I wanna stay with Mimi!”

Milo doesn’t eject this idea, letting his chin rest on her small shoulder. You and Harry huff in frustration, glancing at each other. Your mother...well she’s had enough of whatever foolishness you and H are pulling right now.

“Okay enough of this” your mother starts, gaining everyone’s attention. “Ava, honeybee, Tell Milo and your grandma see you later and let go of him so you can have fun on your trip with your parents.” She says this with a stern, yet loving tone. Down to business and nothing else.

“Yes nana” she mumbles, placing a few kisses to Milo’s cheek and glides to your mom.

You and Harry look at each other in an instant, eyes wide at the way your mother fixed the problem in less than a minute. A mutual look of what the fuck, as in the what the fuck were you possibly doing wrong.

“Thanks mum.” Harry says sheepish, looking at the calming little one swaying in your mother’s arms.

“Yeah thanks mom” you say, standing up straight.

“No problem, Now get going, before she fusses again”

You all exchange your see you laters. Ava has yet another sweet moment with Milo. While Harry tells her she won't be staying in Hawaii forever and Milo won't stay with Nana forever. As you're driving away you all wave at the two, Ava yelling to Milo.

“Bye Mimi! See you soon! Don’t chase a squirrel when I’m gone!” She yells out the window, her arm waving in the wind.

You and Harry share a chuckle. Despite what she may think, Milo has never chased a squirrel in his life. She's watched it once on a cartoon and it somehow filled her heard with the imaginary scenario.

When both her grandmother and bestfriend are out of sight, she turns her head to the other window. A solemn look on her face, looking out the window like the Kermit the Frog meme.

You play the Frozen 2 soundtrack for the less pouty girl behind you. But when you don't hear the shrill sound of her singing, you look behind you to see an upset look upon her cherub face.

Her bottom lip is juts out, her hands fisted and arms crossed.

“You okay?” you ask her, turning in your seat to cradle her knee.

She’s dressed cutesy in a matching sweat set and a cute beanie rested over her plaits.

“No. I’m upset and I wanna yell” she looks at you, resting her case, before she turns her head back to its original spot.

Harry peeks at the interaction through the rear view mirror; an eyebrow quirked. One hand on the wheel while the other takes its natural spot in your lap, your fingers tangled with his.

“Why are you upset?” you ask.

“Because…” she groans, trying to figure out her ‘big feelings’. “You left Mimi and now he’ll hate me”

“He won’t hate you, you’re his favorite person”

“You guys don’t love me either!” She whines, glaring out the window. Wigging in her spot, causing your hand to fall from her knee.

“That’s not true! We love you” you exclaim, in a loving manner.

“Then get Mimi”

“Mimi is staying with grandma Ava, enough.” Harry’s voice catches her attention immediately. “ It's okay to be upset but Hawaii doesn’t accept dogs, remember?”

She only huffs, dropping her hands from her chest.

“Can you play the when I am older song, please mommy?” she almost whispers.

You accept her request, turning so you’re seated right. Playing the song and hearing her sing eases your glazed stare a bit. Releasing a breath and closing your eyes as you rest your head against the window adds a bit to your release.

Harry raises the entangled hands away from your lap, placing an adored kiss to the back of your hand. Sending a quick questioning look your way.

“I’m fine” you send back, in a smile. No mother wants to hear those words.

He can’t do much with him driving and with Ava in the car. So he places a kiss to the back of your hand once more, and extends his hand so he caresses the back of your neck.

“You’re doing a great job, stop being so hard on yourself” he encourages.

If your mom was here she’d give you a tip or two on how you and Harry are too soft on Ava. You couldn’t help leaving all the disciplining to Harry, you probably were definitely too soft on her at times.

Through all the pouting, belting of kid songs, and Harry's annoying jokes and teasing. Five hours later you've made it to the resort.

At the moment, Harry was checking you both in while you and Ava looked around the gift shop. When you feel someone’s arm come around your shoulder, you jump. But the feeling of his cold rings and brings you down.

“Scared me, don’t do that” a breath of relief follows as you tilt your head back onto his shoulder. He gets the memo immediately, leaning down for a peck to the lips.

“Made a friend in the lobby.” He tells you like nothing. Eyes shifting at his little girl looking through the stuffed animals and keychains.

“Are you okay?” you ask in disbelief.

“What?” he laughs, one eyebrow perched.

“Like in the head”

“I’m not following…”

“Why are you so good at making friends with strangers this easily? Seriously.”

He laughs you off like it’s nothing, but it’s uncomic. You wish you could blame it on being shy, but compared to Harry it was not that easy for you to chat up strangers enough that you become acquaintances.

Your husband could make friends with a duck if he wanted to. Everywhere you went. Whether in the ice cream shop a few miles away at home or the park where you took Ava all the time .He was always chatting with someone, in the end pulling you in.

He only laughs it off, beyond doubt enjoying the look on your face. “We agreed to save each other a seat at the Luau tonight, for whoever gets there first. Talked to the husband actually, but you’ll see”

“You’re insane” you tease him.

“Can I have this?” A teal, stuffed sea turtle is thrusts in the direction of you and Harry.

“How do we ask nicely” you say.

“Can I get this?” she smiles, a smile so sweet, your tooth hurts from looking at it. She’s the most adorable thing and knows exactly how to use it to her advantage.

“My sweet little baby.” Harry crooned, advancing to her, lifting her into his tattooed arms. Placing a series of kisses to her plump cheeks. She giggles, never wanting the affection to stop. “You can have it,” he tells her. “Let’s go to the till.”

“Harry you didn’t even check the price” you chimed in.

“Shh. We’re having a moment” he acknowledged. He outstretches his arm, so his palm meets your face gently. You laugh into it, before you smack his wrist away, then placing a light kiss to his wrist when he whines.

It’s some hours later. You’re all getting ready for the hotel’s hosted dinner/Luau tonight. The three of you took a two and a half hour nap.

You were touching up your light makeup while Harry got Ava ready. He lost two rounds of rock-paper-scissors and now must deal with the havoc that is dressing Ava.

“Baby, get the trousers mommy picked out for you” you Harey him tell Ava.

“Trousers?” She says the word with confusion, “Don’t have trousers babe? That’s a silly word.”

Then you hear the raspy laugh of Harry.

“Your pants, get your pants and your top too”

Not even a minute later do you hear Harry asking her to stop wiggling around.

Harry walks in the bathroom, a giggling Ava sat on his hip.

Harry adores a very laid back...dad look you could say. The back of the white wife beater he’s wearing get’s covered by a black button up shirt with flamingos patterned all over it. He’s also wearing a pair of shorts and his favorite vans.

Ava’s tucked into a set. a cami top with matching flared pants and sunflowers ornamented the black fabric.

“Oooh look at mumma, beautiful huh?” he asks Ava, extending one hand towards you, once you clasp your hands in his, he spins you letting his eyes sink in.

“Yeah!”

“Thank you both” you smile as Harry tugs you in for a swift kiss.

You had picked out an angelic, ivory crochet set. The top you’re wearing shows off your midriff and the long, flowy skirt matches with beautiful lace detailing.

You turn to Ava to give her a kiss on her cheek. “You look so handsome.” you tell Harry, letting your hand run through his hair. “And you look so adorable, you like your outfit?” taking her from Harry’s hands.

“Yeah, I like the flowers–– Can I have some too?” she points to the plethora of makeup products spread over the bathroom counter.

Looking over at Harry for his confirmation, he nods. You take the brush running it over the blush, before brushing it over her chubby cheeks and her nose.

“Tickles,” she laughs, pushing your hand away.

“Are you ladies ready to go?”

“Wow! Look the fires!” She points at the lines of tiki torches submerged into the sand, jumping as she sits on your hip.

The layout is stunning. There’s a stage for the performance, round tables spread out everywhere across the beach, and a buffet in the back.

Most of the tables are already filled, albeit the show was to start in like twenty minutes.

“There they are, over there” Harry indicated, his hand waving back at a family of four.

With Harry’s hand settled on your back, he weaved the three of you to the table.

“Hey Shawn.” Harry greeted, their hands clasped together as they brought each other in, clapping each other on the back.

Shawn was a tall man, a few inches taller than Harry, and very built. He had amazing brown skin, clear like a mirror, and was bald––which he pulled off effortlessly.

“This is my wife, y/n and my daughter Ava” he smiled at the two of you, while you shook hands with Shawn and asked Ava to say a hello. Which she did, like bursting a ball of energy as put her hands out for a handshake like she watched her parents do. It caused a laugh out of everyone. She didn’t know why they were laughing at her, but she enjoyed the attention.

“This is my wife Avni” you hugged, as close as you could, with a petite, expecting Indian woman. She was radiant as she smiled at you and Harry. “These are my kids Grey and Aster” you shook hands with them both.

Grey looked about Ava’s age, bouncy coils moving as he bobbed up and down in his seat. His sister, who looked in her tweens, sported the same hair texture. Aster more silent of the two sent her greetings kindly.

“And the third is still cooking in here” he laughed, setting his hands down on Avni’s early protruding belly.

With that joke, you understand exactly how the two of them got to know each other, as Harry joined in with his laugh. The wives chuckled amongst themselves.

“How far along are you?” you solicited.

“Three and a half months” Avni smiled proudly, rubbing both hands around her belly.

You cooed, “It’s amazing, you’re literally glowing. You're making me miss being pregnant” you joke.

“Okay! Enough of that. One little devil is enough.” Harry tickles your side, as a result you jab his side with your elbow gently, as he grins down at you. “We’re gonna go get some food,” he informs the couple.

Now everyone’s sitting around the table anticipating for the show to start. Conversation running pretty smoothly. The four of you were even able to make a few plans for the week you are here for. You had gotten a high chair for Ava to sit and eat in, but she wasn’t having it. Failing around while reaching for you.

In result, she’s now sitting in your lap, bouncing side to side. Munching on her French fries, chicken, and sipping on her pineapple juice.

“Taste good?” Harry asks his toddler.

“Mhm” she hums, shoving her thumb into his face.

“I can tell” he chuckles, extending a napkin to wipe her face clean.

You tilt your head down closer to hers, to see sauce around her mouth, some of it on her cheek even.

“Daddy.”

“Hm, baby?”

“Mimi would like this, he loves the chicken mommy gives me”

“You give Mimi your chicken?”

“No”

You both laugh it off, not seeing the point in correcting her.

“Who’s Mimi”

“Mimi is our dog, he's big and he can talk!” Ava answered, her voice ringing with excitement.

“Dog’s can’t talk!” The high-pitched voice of Grey argued, eye brows pitched together.

“That’s a fib, Mimi talks to me all the time!” she defended.

Thankfully, the show was beginning, two young women and four young men came out on stage. Dressed in their traditional Hula attire.

You and Avni shared a grateful smile, knowing neither of you would know how to suppress their little spiff.

The dance is mesmerizing and it was nice with the sun almost setting as a background. Light hues of orange shaded the sea as the night took over the rest. Everyone watched in awh, clapping when it was appropriate. The women’s skirt flowed amongst the air like water.

Harry’s arm propps on the back of your chair. During the performance you feel his fingers run against the back of your neck.

You turn your head towards, trying not to disturb the entranced little girl on your lap. “What?” you mouth.

“It’s beautiful” he whispers to you.

“I know” you tell him, smiling when he rolls his eyes at you.

At some point in the show, the original dancers plus a few more stepped off the stage. An array of Lei’s on their arms, watching as they put Leis around their chosen person’s neck. During this time a woman walks behind Harry, setting one around his neck.

You laugh at the shocked look on his face and the way he fixes his posture. She places a grip onto his arm, making him stand up so she could guide her to the rest of the others. Avni gets chosen too.

The smile on your face makes your face hurt as you watch Harry “dance” up there. The man definitely didn’t have the bet rhythm but he’s having fun and you loved that.

“Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!...” Ava cheered on her father, clapping her hands. Harry looks towards her, waving. She gets even more excited chanting his title louder.

She's Not interrupting anything, you’re surprised he heard her in the first place. But also not, she always knew how to project her voice when needed.

A little over a minute goes by when Ava raises her hand and keeps it up there until you’re able to flag down someone for a lei, which you both get. The both of you walk up to Harry and you set Ava on the ground.

A slight circle forms as you three hold hands together. Just swaying. Sometimes letting go because Harry wanted to spin the two of you. It’s a beautiful image, you're sure. All the glee you could hold in your body transpires in the way you danced with them.

When you’re walking back to your hotel room, your arms are hooked with Harry’s and your head rests on his shoulder. An almost asleep Ava in his arm. He stops to bring his free hand around your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Thank you for giving me this, I love you” he whispers against your lips.

Last night, after the dinner and the Hula, Ava had facetimed Nana. To be honest, she had wanted to say a goodnight to Milo, but talking to her grandmother was always a plus. She was still dressed in her outfit, you and Harry getting ready for the night, so you could then focus on her.

She sat up against the headboard, Your giant phone–– compared to her hands–– held in her tiny ones. You were looking through her duffle bag for her pyjamas when you heard…

“Look Mimi, I saved you chicken”, her small teeth bared, holding up a piece of her chicken from dinner. Your phone is now being propped up against a pillow.

You looked up to watch her pull a piece of chicken from her...pant pocket.

That was the point you reavulated yourself as a parent and had to think about what kind of kid you and Harry were possibly raising.

“Harry!” you called for him.

He walked out, an eyebrow quirked.

“Look.” you hiss, voice low.

‘God…’ Harry thinks. “Where’d she get that chicken from?” he asks, running his towel over his hair.

“Her pocket! Why are you so casual about this?”

“Angel...you had a baby with me, what’d you expect?” he questions, seriously questions you this.

“You’re fixing it then, Mr. mini-me”

Presently, you’re all at the beach. Three towels and three umbrellas lay in/on the sand. You’ve rubbed sunscreen on Ava twice now and have had to remind Harry three times. After last time there was no way you’d be rubbing aloe vera on him all night.

“Baby you’re dripping it.” You sigh, reaching over to wipe her chin of the chocolate ice cream she was eating, from a cup you might add. “Do you want me to feed it to you?”

“No, thank you” she replies, kicking her feet out.

You’ve all swam a bit, but now are on a mini break from the water and saw they were selling ice cream close by.

It’s pretty quiet between the three of you, too busy enjoying your treat.

She gasps, “Daddy you’re a fibber” Ava says indifferently, slurping even more of her ice cream from her spoon.

He guffaws, caught off guard from her statement. He shifts towards the two of you. The way the wind blows his hair and the sun makes the green in his eyes even brighter catches you off guard–– the sight of his abs doesn’t hurt either.

You also knew it wouldn’t be long until his hair gained some highlights and his freckles would be more prompt. You couldn’t wait.

“How’m I a fibber, messy?” squinting down at her.

“Look!”she points, “There’s a puppy right there”

There is, you turn your eyes to where her fingers point to see a woman walking a black Dachshund.

Harry turns his head towards him, a sad look on his face. “You’re right baby. I’m a fibber. I’m sorry”

Ava hurls from her seat to latch her arms around his neck, “It’s okay daddy, now Mimi can come next time” she tells him.

If there’s one thing about Ava, it’s how much she hates sadness. Unless it’s from her. Then it’s perfectly okay. She hates sadness so much, she particularly had a dislike for the character from Inside out. Until you had to explain to her how sadness is something that is okay and needed from time to time, Like in the movie.

After her round of affection towards Harry, she emplaces herself into his lap.

“Daddy. Mommy.”

You both hum an answer.

“It looks like a hot dog” she eyes the dog while it trots down the sand.

“It does huh?” Harry answers, brushing her flyaways back. All while you laugh into your palm.

Your hands feel tingly when you wrap it around Harry’s neck, pulling him into you. His head lays against your shoulder.

Definitely a vacation to remember and cherish.

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurbs #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #dad!harry #harry styles reader insert #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles drabble #harry styles writings #dad harry styles #harry styles angst #husband!harry #husband harry styles #dad harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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chiliiscereal · 4 years ago

Note

May I offer a prompt of how the turtles would be with a mom friendTM? you know the type I mean? like.... I think they might benefit from that kind of friend in the group lol (also I love your stories, your such a cool writer keep up the awesome work!)

Rottmnt headcanon: mom friend TM

And thanks so much!

Mom friends are severely underrated XD

——

-Okay these boys need a mom friend badly

-but that’s where you come in!

-as the mom friend you keep them safe in many ways

Donnie💜

-starting with this guy, he never really wanted a mom friend

-when April first brought you over he was cold

-didn’t even bother talking to you

-you were determined to befriend him, even though he left whenever you tried to talk to him

-you became comfortable with the turtles quickly and the others accepted your mom friend nature

-not Donnie though

-he didn’t hate you, sure, but you were too much

-you were too overbearing and too nervous for his safety!

-you’d make him wear a helmet when he used his jet pack

-you made him put on SUNSCREEN whenever he went outside

-you told him to be careful when rewiring a project even!

-it’s like you wanted to ruin his bad boy image

-he hated it and wanted you to stop being so smothering

-…

-…until he realized that attention and moral support comes with the smothering

-the moment he realizes that he’s all for it

-he’s no longer hiding his inventions from you so you won’t bug him, but he’s seeking you out for your advice and praise

“Hey so I made this and… I don’t know…”

“Wow you built that? It’s awesome!”

“Really? I mean, I know, I just wanted to show you that it was.”

-praise ain’t something this boy has

-have you SEEN how his brothers react to his ideas?

-he needs this

-with praise comes affection

-I’m talking homemade snacks and questions that his brothers never ask

-you’re there if he needs a cup of coffee or if he hasn’t eaten in a while or taken a nap

-“don, it’s been two days since you slept go to bed.”

-“*hissssss*”

-“I’ll make a cup of coffee for you after...?”

-“*hisses but less intense*”

-you may be good at making snacks and everything

-very good in facts

-but the questions are probably his favorite part

“Woah what’s that supposed to do?”

“Well it’s a device that’s meant to fix all the broken McDonald’s ice cream machines.”

“That’s amazing! What did you use to build it? How does it work?”

-you’re actually trying to learn about his work!

-you’re trying to learn about him!

-he loves it

-and he loves that you’re careful to

-it’s a nice change from his brothers

-you’re someone he can depend on

-doesn’t matter if it’s missions or just being a good friend

-and I mean it when I say depend

-you’re there when he needs help rewiring something or just to simply talk about his dumb dumb brothers

-honestly April isn’t even mad that Donnie stole one of her best friends

-she knows he needs this

-Donnie fully learned to trust you after the purple dragons mishap

-you told him they were untrustworthy but his heart was dead set on that satin jacket

-when he came back to the lair, late at night, with no satin jacket and a handful of his missing tech, he found you raising an eyebrow at him from where you had sat to wait for him

-he knew from then on to trust you and your opinions, even though his often got in the way

-you can often be found sitting on Donnies bed while he works, offering your company and comments

-Normally no one else is allowed in while he works but that’s just because they don’t have anything positive to provide

Raph❤️

-Raph IS the mom friend

-your mom friend energy and his mom friend energy just work together so well together

-I’m talking planning missions together, figuring new ways to trick his brothers into being responsible, cleaning the dishes, and even making snacks together

-“so the mission is tomorrow right?”

-“yep! Should we bring apples with peanut butter or pretzels with hummus?”

-“well Donnie doesn’t like peanut butter, but Mikey does, so both?”

-“awesome! And you’ve got the water covered?”

-“dude I even have caprisuns packed so we’re ready!”

-the others find it to be too much with the two of you but Raph really appreciates the help

-especially during the pizza puff episode

-oh that part nearly set you on fire with worry

-Raph had never seen you that worked up

-you had a fan for Leo, a bowl for Mikey, and a bag of fruit snacks for Donnie

-Raph has to activate his supreme mom friend energy to get you to stop hovering over them

-that meant literally dragging you away from them so they could figure things out on their own

-he’s seen you be a mom friend to them all the time

-but never once for him

-you two were like... co mom friends working together to stop the younger irresponsible three

-until Raph got separated in the sewer

-oh man you were torn with worry

-you nearly destoryed the place looking for him

-and finding him all savage like that... ack that was enough to practically shatter your heart in two

-once he stopped trying to barbecue villains and destroy his brothers you took him to the lair and helped him calm down

-you even turned on a movie for the two of you so he could relax

-it was nice to have your best friend and partner in stopping crime back

-Raph of course was embarrassed because it’s HIS job to help everyone, not the other way around

-after much assurance you had him convinced that you didn’t mind

-he was grateful to have you and your help

-he just wished you didn’t worry quite so much

Leo 💙:

-this boy is soaking it all up from the start

-someone to compliment him?

-someone to help him out?

-someone to admire his achievements?

-oh he’s all for it

-he’s showing off skateboard stunts, he’s doing flips, and he’s randomly pulling you to him and creating a portal

-usually you end up somewhere sketchy but sometimes it works out

-you always have to be ready though

-one minute you’re walking to the projector room and the next you’re in New Jersey with a sheepish looking red slider

-his only problem is now he has to be more careful with skateboard tricks

-he’s fine with a helmet but when it comes to you hovering next to him while he’s going down the skate ramp...

-eh he’s not so fond of that

-praise?

-sure

-home made gifts and cards?

-always appreciated

-but you constantly trying to protect him from things he knew how to do?

-no

-just no

-now he only feels like he can skate if you’re not there or if he goes to a skate park without telling you

-you figure out quickly and still worry that he’ll mess up a flip

-doesn’t matter if you’re watching or not

-you’re the mom friend

-your job is to worry

-you promised that you’d stop worrying about him if he can back

-you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable in his own home!

-he agreed and you did your best to keep your promise

-...

-until he actually messed up a flip

-you don’t know WHAT he landed on but it must have been sharp because there was a LOT of blood

-maybe you thought there was a lot because you were so worried but still

-you hadn’t even been in the room but you heard his shout (and crash) and you came running

-oh he was lucky you carried gauze and everything in your bag because other wise they’d have to go buy some

-you chewed him out while patching him up, much to his displeasure

-you’re both sweet and sour about it

-“I’m fine! Look, nothing’s broken!”

-“I TOLD you that you could get hurt! I TOLD you it wasn’t safe! Why did you not listen- I’m sorry does that hurt? I’m sorry!”

-“yeah it does hurt-.”

-“than you should have listened to me!!”

-for a while he’s bitter that you were just waiting for him to mess up

-clearly you thought he was just a big clutz to you

-but after a while of him avoiding you and pouting you brought it up again

-“I’m not just waiting for you to fail you know. I just want you to be okay.”

-“that’s not what it feels like! You clearly don’t trust me!”

-“life happens, Leo! Doesn’t matter how skilled you are! You’re an amazing skater but sometimes mistakes are made!”

-ha that changed his tune quickly

-“you think I’m an amazing and skilled skater?

-you just rolled your eyes and left, not saying anything about his comment

-didn’t matter

-this boy is all smiles for the rest of the day

Mikey🧡:

-he was on board from the very start

-he’s got cuddles, piggy back rides, and his own art fan/critic

-lots of baking and cooking together

-maybe even drawing if he’s lucky

-only problem?

-you don’t trust him to go out on his own

-even if it’s just to grab a video game from the store or pick up pizza

-“I’m just going down the block!”

-“what if someone sees you?”

-“I’ll be careful!”

-“just let me go with you.”

-“no! I can do this on my own!”

-you’re always offering to give him a ride or tag along just because you don’t want anything to happen to him

-that means, of course, sneaking out

-not for a long time, just enough to get some air

-but that also means you’re staying up late waiting for him to come back

-he’s your buddy!

-you can’t let anything happen to him!

-he didn’t know about it until he found you cashed out on the couch with the lamp still on

-normally you gave him an excuse about why you were still up, such as a late night snack or a movie

-but your phone and the tv were both off

-he decided to think nothing of it until he noticed that you were grumpier in the mornings

-he didn’t want his actions to affect you so he started coming back earlier

-even texting you and telling you he was fine

-you two talked and set up a deal

-he could go out by himself and you wouldn’t stay up late waiting for him as long as you had his location on your phone

-it was easier for both you from then on

#rottmnt mikey #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt raph #rottmnt oneshots #rottmnt leo #rottmnt imagine #rottmnt headcannons #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt #rottmnt incorrect quotes #rottmnt movie #nickelodeon #tmnt fanfiction #rise of tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt headcanons

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snackhobi · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: jimin x reader / word count: 9.1k / genre: smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost.

but there’s only so much you can resist park jimin, especially once he gets that peach involved.

warnings: sexually explicit content, Jimin being completely shameless/a lowkey ho, messy peach eating, mentions of masturbation, oral sex (m + f receiving), overstimulation, protected sex, multiple orgasms (f), dirty talk and some cursing, hmm I think that’s it?

a/n: I was so close to calling this ‘jimin and the f*cking peach’ as some terrible homage to ‘james and the giant peach’ 😂🤧 as always I would like to thank @hobi-gif for beta reading this, putting up with me having a meltdown at her, and encouraging me to write smut at work rather than doing my job, ty queen xoxo

It’s official. Park Jimin is the neighbour from hell.

He’d tricked you, to start with. With those cherubic features, those doe eyes, and his cute little smile? He looks like an angel. A sweet, innocent angel, one who’d knocked shyly on your door and presented you with a small selection of chocolates when he’d moved into the apartment next to yours. Your heart had gone boom boom at the sight of that cute smile, the slip of teeth, the way his lovely face had scrunched up.

Nowadays, whenever you see that face, you want to punch it.

Well. Not punch it. Maybe slap it a little. Because Park Jimin is a fiend.

Your studio apartment is cheap for many reasons. The plumbing is creaky and the heating isn’t exactly great but those are small sacrifices for such low rent—ones you’re willing to make. Creaking doesn’t bother you and throw blankets exist for a reason, right? You get a balcony and a parking spot, which is more than you can say for a lot of other places in this price range, so you’ll take the negatives for these positives.

But you’d give up all the things you love about this cheap flat for some sound proofing.

Because Park Jimin fucks.

A lot.

He’d been nothing but lovely for the first few weeks. You’d barely been aware of his existence, minus when you could hear him in the bathroom—your flats are mirrored, rooms sharing walls, so you’d been washing your face when you’d heard his shower start up and then the sound of his dulcet tones drifting through the wall. That had actually been really nice; Jimin can hit some high notes, and it had been a pleasant backdrop as you’d cleansed your face. It had been another bullet point you’d added to the list of things you thought were cute about him (along with his face, his laugh, his smile), and you’d stupidly started to develop a tiny little crush on this boy-next-door, thinking him some soft, kind thing.

But then he’d started to have people over.

You’ve lost count of how many days you’ve had to listen to the moans and gasps that echo through your walls. You can’t escape from it. As a freelance programmer, you’re pretty much always working from home, so it’s not like you can get away from the sounds of pleasure that shudder through Jimin’s flat and into your own.

It’s never consistent, either. There’s not a single hour of the day that’s off limits to Park Jimin. Morning, afternoon, night; the boy is always ready to go, apparently. And judging from the sounds through the walls? He never leaves anyone unsatisfied either.

Which, like, fine. People fuck. You get it. You’re not judging. You just wish it wasn’t so loud. You have to sleep, for God’s sake. But it’s not like you can knock on a new neighbour’s door and be like hey, I appreciate you have an incredibly active sex life, but can you keep it down, please?

So you’d bit your tongue. You’d gritted your teeth to bear it. You’d still smile at Jimin if you ever passed in the hallway, acknowledged him with a small nod, exchanged pleasantries, all the neighbourly stuff that you’d do with anyone. You’d just invested in some good earplugs and thought that was it.

And then Jimin had started doing his morning yoga routine outside.

You start each day with a cup of tea on your balcony, watering your hydrangeas and enjoying the dawn sun that lifts up over the horizon alongside your plants. It’s a small, singular moment of quiet in an otherwise dull day and you treasure that serenity.

Well. Treasured. Past tense. Because Jimin has invaded this part of your life, too.

The first time Jimin had unrolled his yoga mat on the balcony adjacent to yours, he’d been dressed in a deceptively unassuming outfit—a loose white t-shirt and leggings that hugged every inch of his calves and thighs and shapely ass, which you had pointedly Not Looked At. He’d tilted his head at you with a smug little smile flickering at the edge of his lips, and when he’d greeted you good morning, you’d responded in turn, even if you were still annoyed at how he’d interrupted your afternoon nap the day before with the sound of his headboard smacking into the wall repeatedly. You were still fairly new neighbours and you still felt like you had to be polite, even if he was starting to fray your nerves.

And then he’d started to bend.

Now, you’ll be the first to admit that you don’t know much about yoga. But you’d swear Jimin was choosing poses that did the utmost to display his flexibility, the flex of his muscles and twist of his limbs, balancing his body on his arms before easing into a pose that had him bent in two, head towards his toes—and with how he had his back to you this meant you got full glimpse of his ass, straining against his leggings, the way his loose shirt slipped up his body to reveal the lines of his stomach and chest, how his face was still twisted into that little smirk even if it was upside down.

Staring at you.

You’d promptly stopped watering your hydrangeas and walked inside your flat, shutting the sliding door behind you.

Jimin is relentless.

He’s pretty and he knows it. All that shy, new-kid-on-the-block innocence he’d had initially is completely gone, and all he does is flirt, flirt, flirt. He winks at you. Stands a little too close whenever you talk. Lets his eyes flicker down to your lips, trail over every inch of you, lashes fluttering when he catches you watching, unashamed and unabashed. He frequently just… hangs around on his balcony. Not topless, no, but he may as well be, his thotty muscle tees doing nothing to hide him from your eyes.

(The worst thing, though, is when you catch him unawares. When he’s tired and clearly not expecting you to be awake, too, his eyes sleepy and his hair ruffled; a little vulnerable, a lot softer than he usually presents himself. Curled up on the small seat on his balcony with a hot drink in his hand, phone in the other, his screen throwing blue-tinted light over the easing lines of his features.

You wish Jimin was like that all the time. But the second he sees you, his eyes flicker, and his brows lift, and his mouth curls, and once again you rue the day you had a fuckboy move in next door to you.)

It’s not that Jimin isn’t hot. It’s not that you wouldn’t fuck him, either. But you have no interest in being some sort of convenient hook-up for him, purely there by circumstance, fate, whatever you want to call it. You dread to think of him sending you haha wyd x texts whenever he feels like having sex and you just happen to be nearby. So you weather all of his obvious come-ons and swerve him something chronic, even if he seems intent on making his attraction to you obvious.

You’ve been managing it for months. But as time goes on, your patience wears thinner and thinner, an atom-thick layer of fortitude the only thing keeping you from grabbing Park Jimin and kissing him and/or killing him. It doesn’t help that you haven’t fucked for a while now, and you’re reminded of this every time you hear another pornstar moan through the wall (the people Jimin brings home seem to like hamming it up for effect), every time you see another mosaic of hickeys laid across the column of Jimin’s gorgeous throat, every time you see the way his yoga outfits do nothing to protect the delicious shape of his body from your eyes.

You dig your fingers into your palms. It’s fine. It’s okay. You can handle Park Jimin and his overt sexual energy, oozing out of him almost every second of every day.

It’s a little harder to handle how he still seems sweet despite his fuckboy nature. How he picks your parcels up for you. How he lets you use his laundry detergent when you run out. How he lets you keep food in his fridge when yours breaks down and you have to wait for a replacement. How he sheds that fuckboy facade whenever it seems like you genuinely need help, how you’ve heard his soft phone calls through the wall, to his friends, his family, sweet and kind and supportive.

Park Jimin is a multi-dimensional being, for sure, and maybe you sometimes wish he was actually genuinely interested in you as a person and not as a lay, so you could peel back those layers to the lovely core at the centre of his being.

But it’s fine. You can handle this stupid yearning and pining. You can handle the knowledge that Park Jimin is a genuine gentleman who just happens to like fucking, is open in his desire for it, and is apparently Very Good at it. It’s difficult, but you can do it.

You can do it.

The date you set up with someone from Tinder ends up being disappointing and lacklustre. You’d escaped before dessert, unable to put up with one more second of this asshole going on and on about stocks, and investments, and trading, or whatever, cursing the day you’d decided to swipe on him. You’re so sick of your luck (or lack thereof) with guys. (At least the food had been nice.)

Of course Jimin sees you schlepping your way back into your apartment, disappointment obvious in the line of your shoulders and lips; it doesn’t take a genius to clock your date outfit, cute as it is, makeup and hair soft. But the night has barely begun and here you are, stepping back into your flat. Alone.

“Bad date?” Jimin asks, voice gentle, and you just snort.

“Just like the rest of them,” you reply with a small sigh, before shutting your door quietly behind you, missing the look on your neighbour’s face.

Jimin, to his credit, eases off after this. You’re not sure if it’s due to a misplaced sense of pity or something, but even if he still smiles and flirts lightly with you, it’s less… salacious. Still there, still obvious, just a little softer. You hate how this has you feeling grateful towards him, because he’s still got so many fuckboy tendencies that it should outweigh this gentler side of his flirtation, but your traitorous heart still goes gooey every time Jimin smiles at you.

But then.

There’s that fucking peach.

You’re just chilling on your balcony, sipping at a glass of lemonade in the warmth of the afternoon when you hear Jimin’s door sliding open. You flick your eyes over at the sound, watching the way Jimin slips out onto his own balcony, how he throws something up in the air and catches it with ease, a flick of the wrist, a curl of the fingers each time he catches it again.

He hasn’t had any fuckbuddies over for a while. A few weeks, almost a month. It’s the longest Jimin’s gone without having sex for as long as he’s started having people over and you’d been sort of concerned. Which, yeah, you know it sounds super weird when you think about it, especially considering how much you complain about Jimin to your friends—help, my fuckboy neighbour hasn’t fucked anyone in nearly a month so I’m worried if his dick has fallen off or something.

(Well, actually, you know his dick is still attached, based off the little gasps and moans he lets out whenever he pleasures himself in lieu of fucking someone else. You’ll take this secret to the grave but those noises that Jimin lets out have been the melody you use to reach your own peaks, although you’re a lot quieter than he is whenever you touch yourself, biting your lip and muffling the wet sounds of your fingers thrusting into your cunt under layers of blankets. You’d never give Jimin the satisfaction of knowing that the mental image of him fucking into his fist and cumming over his stomach and chest is what throws you over your own edge, toe-curling orgasms that shake through your body in time with Jimin’s own.)

Anyway. He looks loose limbed and relaxed when he saunters into view, utterly unsurprised by your presence behind your window box of hydrangeas, giving you his usual, sultry smile.

He’s started to ramp up his flirtations again. This smirk is one which you’ve learned not to respond to. You just stare levelly back at him, unimpressed as you start to water your flowers, which does nothing to dissuade him. It never does. He clearly revels in the challenge.

Jimin keeps his eyes locked with yours as he lifts his hand to his lips. You catch a glimpse of what he was throwing and catching—a ripe, flush peach, tiny droplets of water shimmering on its fuzz, freshly washed.

And then he starts to eat it.

The peach yields immediately to the press of his teeth. Juice bursts out of its softness, running down his lips, his chin; he makes no moves to wipe it away, the lewd sound of his slurps as he curls his tongue into the fruit, messy and sweet.

It’s shameless. He’s shameless. His gaze is unwavering as he stares at you, his mouth glistening with the peach’s juices, the only sound the wet smack of his lips and tongue as he licks up the honeyed liquid that drips from his skin, curving around the fruit as he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing.

Water’s been trickling from your small can onto the hydrangeas, cascading over the plants; the soil is waterlogged now, but you haven’t noticed, fixated on the way Jimin is looking at you as he wantonly eats out this peach.

Drip drip, goes the watering can.

Drip drip, goes the peach.

By the time there’s nothing more than the pit in his hand, Jimin is a mess. His fingers and mouth and chin shine with peach juice, eyes dark and heavy as he watches the way you drink the sight of him in, the way his tongue slowly drags over his full lips, catching the sweetness that lingers.

The second he puts his tongue to his fingers to get the stickiness on them, that’s it. You watch the way he sucks his fingers into his mouth and promptly put the watering can down and turn on your heel to walk inside, slamming the balcony door shut behind you.

You’re done. You’re only human. You’ve spent months with Jimin parading himself in front of you, seen the way he contorts his body every morning in an unnecessarily complex sun salutation, listened to the way his voice rises when he cums; the peach is the metaphorical cherry on top, and you’re just. Over. It.

You hammer your palms against your neighbour's door, rap-rap-rapping on the wood, your blood rising and your heart thudding in your chest, every part of you tense, wound up, pent up. The door swings open to reveal Jimin, his chin still slick with sweet peach, lips curling up in a self-satisfied smile when he sees you.

“Park Jimin.” Your voice shakes and you hate yourself for it, hate the way Jimin’s eyes glitter at the sound, the little hitch in your breath. “You are a fucking menace, you know that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. He leans against the doorframe, effortlessly gorgeous, hip cocked, head tilted. He lifts his hand, and there’s a heavy moment of tension as you watch him slowly swipe a thumb over the last remnant of juice on his chin, before his tongue lolls out of his mouth and he licks the final taste of peach from his fingers.

When you grab hold of his collar his expression shifts from something coy into something far more self satisfied, months of his brazen come-ons finally culminating in this—you, shoving him backwards into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind you.

“I swear,” you say. “I swear to God—”

“You swear? I can think of better things you could be doing with your mouth,” Jimin says, and then laughs when you scowl at him. “Damn, you’re so hot when you’re mad.”

“You are infuriating,” you bite out, and Jimin just laughs again, his whole body shaking, every part of him still loose and relaxed even as you continue to tighten your grip on his clothing, feeling every motion of his body under your hands. You hate how pretty he is, even now, utterly unafraid of your frustration—the brightness of his eyes and his smile, that undercurrent to it all, the way his hands slide so smoothly around your waist, your hips, sliding down to grope at your ass.

“I know,” he agrees, still giggling, and then he kisses you.

Jimin dives straight in, no holds barred, and you immediately melt into putty under his touch. He lets out a hum of satisfaction into your mouth as your hands go lax and slide down his chest. You can still taste the peach on his lips, his tongue, licking into his mouth.

You’ve thought about this mouth more times than you’d like to admit: the full swell of his lips, the little curve of his cupid’s bow, how it’d feel pressed against your own, and honestly? It’s so much better than you’d let yourself imagine it to be.

He nips at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue, and you bite off a gasp when he pulls you forward, grinding against you. You shudder. Jimin’s mouth is a pleased curve against your own before he pulls away, murmuring in your ear in a voice that’s equal parts sultry and sweet.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, kissing the sensitive skin of your jaw just under your earlobe, making you shiver. “Just relax. You’re always so tense.”

“Maybe that’s because my neighbour keeps me up all night,” you say, but your voice is weak, no strength behind your words, breath stolen out of you at the way Jimin starts to trail his lips down your neck, across your throat. “I find that constantly getting my sleep interrupted—oh, oh—”

Jimin sucks at the hollow of your neck, the delicate skin there so sensitive to his touch, the warmth of his lips magnified, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Your hands have slid into his hair and you unintentionally tighten your grasp, fingers tugging at his dark locks, and Jimin bares his teeth against your skin.

It’s maybe a little embarrassing how wet you are just from a little making out. But after months of Jimin teasing you and putting you on edge, coupled with how long it’s been since you've had sex? You’re allowed to be a little desperate. All the small frustrations you were about to voice die on your tongue, slipping away from you as Jimin starts to walk you backwards with a confidence that shows just how often he’s done this—leading people to his bed, never taking his hands off you.

By the time Jimin eases you to lie down, you feel breathless. He hovers above you with that satisfied smile flickering at the edge of his lips, taking in the sight of you, finally underneath him—lips kiss swollen, exquisite, all the sharp words on your tongue softened and gone, goosebumps trailing down your skin. You tug at his collar, which catches him off guard; he sways forward and almost hits his face against yours, but before he can spend too long looking smug at your desperation you capture his lips again. You melt into the mattress, hooking a foot over his calf and revelling in the weight of him between your legs, your hips flush, and how hard he’s getting through those stupidly tight leggings of his.

When he grinds against you, the outline of his cock pressed up against your cunt, an embarrassing whine leaves your lips and trembles against Jimin’s own. Jimin goes still before pulling away from the open-mouthed kiss and when you see the expression on his face you slap a hand over your mouth, burning with shame.

“Oh.” He sounds delighted. “You’re noisy, huh?”

“Shut up,” you say, though your words are muffled against your palm. He grinds down again, a slow and deep roll of his hips that lets you feel how hard he is, and a noise shudders out the back of your throat, audible around your hand.

“It’s hot.” There’s that little smirk on Jimin’s lovely lips, every inch of him dripping self confidence. He knows how you’re entirely at his mercy, in spite of your words; your voice is weak. “You’re normally so quiet.”

“Some of us try to be considerate and think about our neighbours.”

Jimin just smiles, pulling your hand away from your mouth before gently kissing your palm, a motion that’s surprisingly tender and makes you pause.

“Trust me.” His voice is low. “I do think about my neighbour.”

Your breath hitches when he slides his free hand under your shirt, trailing his fingers over the softness of your stomach. He pulls the fabric up, letting his gaze rove over the bared skin. The way Jimin looks at you makes you feel like you’re the only woman in the world, like he’s never seen anyone prettier.

You wonder if he looks at his other fuckbuddies like this.

The thought slides away from you as Jimin dips his head and starts to kiss your throat again. You tilt your head back as his lips trail across the soft skin, his hands coming to rest under your breasts, contained as they are by your bra; once he coaxes you to sit up, it only takes him a few moments to strip your upper body, kneeling between your spread legs as he starts to trail his hands over the parts of you that are now bared to him.

“Pretty,” he says. You’d roll your eyes if he didn’t sound so reverent, and also if you weren’t distracted by the way he flicks his thumbs over your hardening nipples, your core clenching as he does, biting your lip to stop yourself from making a sound. A frown flits across Jimin’s face and he lifts one of those thumbs away from your breast, dragging your lip away from your teeth, letting his grasp linger so your lips are parted. “Don’t do that. I've been waiting for months to hear you properly.”

Before you can reply, he kisses you again, licking into your mouth and swallowing down the noise you make when he drags his hand between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and settling between your legs, running his fingers over your cunt, the feeling dulled by layers of fabric even though he presses with intent. Your hips jolt at the sensation, and Jimin repeats the motion, dragging the fabric across your flushed lips.

“Jimin.” Your voice is a gasp against his mouth, and you can’t keep the pleading out of your tone, desperation bleeding into every letter of your words. “Please.”

He just hums, sounding pleased, and a breath of surprise escapes you as he pushes you back against the pillows. He wastes no time in getting to his prize, drawing a scattered constellation of kisses that trail across your chest, your nipples, your stomach, the line of your hip bones as you lift up so he can pull your shorts and underwear off. You’re entirely naked underneath him, bare and wet, cunt flushed and shining, and Jimin groans at the sight.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, fingers digging into your thighs as he pulls your legs wider. Your cheeks burn as Jimin stares at your pussy, but you can’t help but feel a pulse of self-satisfaction at the visible twitch of his cock in his stupid yoga leggings. “You’re so wet.”

You should probably feel embarrassed, but by now you’ve thrown all your previous inhibition to the winds. You’ve ended up somewhere you’d privately sworn you were never going to—in Park Jimin’s bed, leaned up against his pillows, laid out for him to touch and take and have, every inch of you desperate for it. There’s nothing in your brain or body but arousal and need. So instead of letting out a snip of a remark you just cant your hips towards him, another pleading sound slipping from your lips.

He gives you what you want. He dips his head and trails his lips and tongue down, down, down, wet and hot, until they press against your cunt. He looks at you with the same hooded eyes as earlier, motions of his mouth an echo of his peach eating, sloppy and messy; he’s unabashed in the way he slides his mouth over you, lips slick and tongue hot, sliding over every sensitive inch—sucking your clit, licking your folds, burying his face between your legs and drinking up every sweet drip of your juices.

You can’t help but make noise. Small gasps that slide into moans of pleasure, hitches in your breath that make your chest jump and your breasts shake; Jimin lets out noises too, muffled against your cunt, sounds that let you know he’s enjoying himself almost as much as you. It’s honestly pretty fucking hot, the way your own pleasure seems to turn him on, how he chases that feeling, eyes blown as he takes in every one of your reactions, repeating the motions that are affecting you the most.

The sight of him between your legs has you tensing. He continues to stare up at you, the curve of your stomach when you bow towards him, the fall of your breasts, which he slides his hands over, cupping them in his palms, pinching your hardened buds, layering sensation on sensation, never taking his mouth off you.

When he presses one finger inside, and then another, both thrusting firm and deep as he mouths at your clit, you tangle a hand into his hair. He watches the way your hips jump from the sensation of his tongue directly on your clit, and does it again, and again, your voice crescendoing from the explosion of sensation, how it’s too much, before he circles his lips around it and sucks messily. Your brain registering nothing but his lips and tongue against you, the hands that are trailing up and down your sides and still skimming across your breasts.

You’re not even aware of the words that are falling from your lips, oh fuck, yes, Jimin, there, oh, the way your grasp tightens in his dark hair, your hips bucking against his mouth as you can feel your orgasm approaching. The pleasure keeps building, flames fanning brighter and brighter as Jimin buries his mouth even further in between your legs, fingers speeding up as you gasp.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you chant, voice getting higher. “I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming, oh—”

Your words slide into a moan as your back arches and your thighs tighten around Jimin’s head and you cum. Jimin continues to finger fuck you through it, your cunt pulsating around him as he keeps licking and sucking at your clit, his gaze fixed on your face as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth falls open and every line of your body sings of the pleasure that Jimin has given to you. Even when your legs and hips start to jolt from oversensitivity and you cry out at each ripple of his tongue against you, he’s relentless, almost cruel in how he watches you writhe from a mixture of pain and overextended pleasure.

You're sobbing by the time Jimin pulls his mouth away from your cunt, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, body shaking as you try to suck in air. He thrusts his fingers into you one more time, slow and deep, watching the way you turn your head into the pillow and muffle a gasp against it.

“I knew you'd look and sound gorgeous when you cum,” he says, and though you feel boneless from your post-orgasm high, you can’t help a little huff escaping your lips. Jimin clearly catches the sound, quiet as it is against the linen of his pillowcase, and takes your chin in his hand to turn his face towards you. His fingers are slick with your arousal, wet against your skin.

“You sound like you’re reading off the script to a porno,” you murmur.

One of his eyebrows arches. “Oh? You don’t think I’m just speaking my mind?” Those fingers move away from your chin and trace over the swell of your bottom lip; you let your mouth fall open and swallow them down, licking the taste of yourself off Jimin’s skin. “You don’t think that I’ve been thinking about how pretty you’d look as I fucked into you, begging for me to let you cum again and again?”

Your tongue stutters against his fingers and your core clenches at his words, the dark undercurrent underneath them, and Jimin’s expression shifts as he notices.

“You really have no idea, do you?” He runs his fingertips over your tastebuds, saliva starting to pool in your mouth, the slide so wet and messy. “Who do you think I picture whenever I touch myself? Who do you think I was wishing was in my bed every time I took someone else home?”

You nip at his fingers, running the edge of your teeth along his knuckles from equal parts surprise and disbelief at his words. You find it impossible to believe that he really means that, but then you realise—recently, on the few occasions you’d bumped into Jimin in the hall when he’d had one of his lays trailing behind him, for as different and unique each of them was, each one of them had shared some sort of trait with you. Hair colour, eyes, the set of their lips, the shape of their face; once, you’d heard a girl giggling through the wall before it had trailed off into a moan, and you’d done a literal double take at how much she’d sounded like you. Similar, but not exactly the same, a slightly off-tone echo of the sound that spills from your own lips whenever you laugh.

And the emptiness in his bed had only started after the night that he’d seen the way you’d trailed into your apartment with discontent heavy around your shoulders, disappointed at that awful Tinder date.

Oh, fuck.

“You’re shameless,” you say, words a little garbled around Jimin’s fingers, but you know he understands.

“No, I’m not,” he replies, a small smirk curling up the corner of his lips. It should be illegal: the way he has such soft features that can turn so quickly into something sharper and entirely sensual, eyes hooded, lips flushed, the column of his throat so lovely and graceful as he tilts his head to one side. “I just know what I want and don’t try to hide it. What’s shameless about that? I know you want me too, but you always deny yourself the things you want. Don’t you?”

You hate that you’ve been so transparent in your attraction to him. Because the truth of the matter is that for as much as Jimin frustrates you with his entire existence, you do want him. After all—you wouldn’t be naked underneath him, still trembling from the aftershocks of a deep orgasm, if you didn’t.

“You’re not always as quiet as you think, you know,” he adds, pulling his fingers out of your mouth and enjoying the way your eyes widen at his words. You thought he couldn’t hear you through the wall, but it seems like you were wrong.

Before you can say anything in reply, though, he grinds down. Without your clothes in the way you can feel the drag of his yoga pants against your cunt, how the wetness of your cum and Jimin’s spit soaks into the fabric, his hard cock hot, and you let out a whine. He still has yet to remove any of his clothes and you want to see them off so he’s finally naked. You’ve seen enough of his bare skin over the months to have a pretty good idea of what that looks like, but you want to see the real thing.

Jimin seems just as eager to shed his clothes, yielding to your grasping hands and carelessly throwing his top aside; you end up straddling his waist and kissing down his chest in an imitation of his motions earlier, letting your fingers trail over the lean muscle from his yoga and dance. When you tongue at one of his nipples and he gasps, you feel euphoric. He’s unfairly beautiful, from the lovely collarbones to the flex of his shoulders and arms and the line of his chest and stomach, delicate and somehow entirely masculine. You still sort of want to slap him, but settle with kissing the hollow of his neck instead, digging your fingers into his ribs as you roll your hips down against him.

His own hips buck up. You can tell that he’s desperate to be inside you, but you want to taste him first.

When you slide down his body and settle between his legs, you hook your fingers into the tight waistband of those stupid leggings and tug them down. Jimin hisses through his teeth as you let the material settle just under his hips, baring the top of his briefs to you, how his cock strains against them, the patch of wetness at the head, darkening the fabric.

You don’t strip him. Not completely. You just hook your fingers into those dark blue briefs and pull them down just enough to reveal the flushed head of his cock, wet with precum. You let your tongue flick out to catch that salty bitterness, and Jimin bites off a curse at the almost shy licks you start to lave across his slit, circling around the weeping head.

Hearing Jimin’s gasps without the wall in the way is honestly an experience. Before, whenever he had people over, they usually drowned him out, theatrical wails and groans overpowering his far more natural noises, but now there’s nothing to prevent you from hearing the way his breath hitches in his throat or the way he moans. Even the smallest things have him letting slip sounds, a noise escaping him as you coax him to lift his hips so you can finally, finally peel those leggings and briefs off, dragging over the hardness of his cock as you do. You want to take in the sight of him fully naked, give it the proper attention it deserves, but then you feel his cock throb in your hand and you can’t stop yourself from immediately lowering your mouth to it again.

His whole body shudders. You let your jaw fall open as you take him in, tongue curling around him, hands touching every part of him that isn’t in your mouth, making sure there’s no part of him that isn’t receiving attention. His eyes are wide under the mess of his fringe, hair falling over his forehead as he watches the way you run your lips down the side of his cock before sucking one of his balls into your mouth, circling his length with your hands, a twisting rise and fall in the motion as you drink down the noise of surprised pleasure that drops from his lips.

Jimin’s fingers have been tangled in your hair but he lets you control the flow. The sounds of you swallowing him down into your mouth as you bob your head are obscene, wet and messy, but you can still hear how his voice starts to rise, how his fingers tighten against your scalp, and you know he’s close when he tugs you upwards and drags your lips away from his cock.

Jimin pulls you towards him and you settle against his chest as you start to kiss again, shivering at the way he rolls his tongue in your mouth. This time when Jimin rolls his hips, there’s nothing between your skin and his, dragging the underside of his cock across your flushed lower lips, the slide between your folds and against your clit making you shiver.

“Condoms?”

You’re breathless, and Jimin quirks a smile at you.

“Top drawer,” he answers. Of course they would be, in easy reach whenever he needs them.

You lean forwards to reach for the bedside table and Jimin takes the opportunity to circle a hand around your breast and capture a nipple in his mouth, ignoring the way you bite back a surprised noise, staring up at you with almost innocent eyes as he sucks at your skin in the way he’s worked out that you like best. Your hands are a fumble as you pull a condom out of the pack, ripping the sachet away from the others, a bottle of lube rolling into your grasp. You try to focus on your task and not the sensation of Jimin switching attention to your other breast, cupping the swell of flesh in his hand and drawing his teeth gently across your skin.

“You’re insatiable,” you mutter, and Jimin laughs before he kisses between your breasts.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you since we first met,” he says, utterly unrepentant. “I don't want to take my mouth off you.”

“Insatiable,” you repeat, but you’re flustered. Even if you know he’s not lying, and you’re naked and straddling his hips, the taste of his lips and cock now familiar on your tongue, it’s… kind of incredible to think that the gorgeous Park Jimin has been lusting after you for that long.

Or lusting after you at all, really.

But as you tear the foil of the condom, the look he levels at you is burning with desire, roaming over you, every inch of your nakedness, every movement of your body. His hands rest at your waist, thumbs rubbing over your skin as you hold his cock in one hand and roll the condom down with the other, letting your fingers circle his length, dragging your touch over the heat of him and revelling in the way he twitches. As much as you’ve thought of Jimin as a fuckboy, you know that he wouldn’t lie just to get someone in his bed, so as unbelievable as his words are, every single one of his actions backs up what he’s said: he wants you.

You don't notice how soft his gaze is as you take time to warm the lube in your hands, even though you’re desperate to feel him finally slide home. You've always been so considerate, even when he knows you've been frustrated at him, and that's evident now, in this small thing.

You spread the warmed lube over his covered cock, pumping it in your hand to get him slick and ready, loving the way he hisses though his teeth. He has to stop his hips from bucking up as you line his cockhead up with your entrance, his fingers digging into your sides as you hover in place.

“Come on,” Jimin urges. “Give it to me.”

“Insatiable,” you repeat, one last time, then you bend your knees.

You finally ease yourself down and onto his cock. You both let out moans; Jimin, finally feeling the wet heat of you around him, and you, falling into the sensation of him stretching you open, snug inside you, slowly splitting you open as you take him in, inch by inch, until you’re sitting on his hips and he’s fully buried in your cunt.

It’s been a while since you’ve had someone inside you. You grind downwards, rolling your hips, biting your lip at the sensation. Jimin’s chest expands as he sucks in a sharp breath, and you roll your hips again, a hand bracing on one of his lovely, thick thighs, the other resting just under his stomach as you lean back and arch your spine. You lift your hips, easy and slow, and then fall, Jimin’s cock dragging and pressing against your inner walls, a gasp shuddering out of your lips at the electric feeling.

Again and again, noises of pleasure drip from your mouth as you ride him, head tilting back at the sensations rippling through your body and across your skin, the apartment full of the sounds of your sex—the moans, the wet thrust of Jimin’s cock into your cunt, the praise that falls from his lips, months of feeling pouring from his lips. How pretty you are, how gorgeous, how well you’re taking his cock, how wet and tight you are around him; all the things he’s been thinking about, come to life, his hips snapping into yours as a sharp cry cuts through your lips at the sudden change of pace.

The pleasure’s been steadily building between your legs again, warm and unrushed, but then Jimin flips you without warning, fluid and graceful. Your eyes are wide as you end up on your back, Jimin’s hands braced either side of your head as he looks down at you with those dark, dark eyes of his. He thrusts forwards and your hands fly up to grab at him, your entire body shifting up the mattress at the force of his movements. His eyebrows are drawn together as he starts to drive himself into you, unapologetic in how aggressive he’s being, each thrust pushing the air out of your lungs in harried little gasps that shake the air between you.

The sound of his headboard slamming into the wall, a noise that’s been haunting you each time you’ve been trying to sleep or relax, is one you don’t even register. All you can think about is Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, caught up in the way there’s sweat beading across his forehead, strands of his dark hair sticking to it, the intense look in his eyes, the way his full lips are parted, small ah-ah-ahs falling from his lips in time with his thrusts, your body tightening around him each time he slides home.

You can’t remember the last time you were fucked this good. Jimin reads the language of your body with ease, knowing exactly when to lean back and trail a hand over your hips, circling his thumb over your swollen clit, the slide over that bundle of nerves messy from the mix of cum and lube and spit that’s laid slick across you. Each fluid roll of his hips is perfectly timed with the press of his thumb, your thighs going tense and your pussy clenching around Jimin’s hot cock as you start to reach another peak of pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby.” Jimin sounds breathless. “Let me see how pretty you are when you cum around my cock.”

Normally dirty talk seems so ham-handed and stuttering, but the words fall out of Jimin’s lips as natural as breathing, thoughtless. Stirring your arousal even further. He’s gripping your hips, pulling you down each time he presses up, and you circle your fingers around his wrist as his other hand is occupied with rubbing at your most sensitive part, tightening your hold as you feel another orgasm approaching.

“Jimin.” Your voice is a keen. “I'm so close, please, there, right there, theretherethere—”

You can't blame Jimin's other partners for being so noisy. The sound you let out is just as loud, maybe even louder, Jimin continuing to snap his hip forwards as you cum hard, a drawn out moan that crescendos as you pulsate around Jimin's cock, still hard inside you. He watches the way you writhe beneath him, tangling his fingers with yours when you reach for him and swallowing the end of your moan in a surprisingly sweet kiss, his lips gentle against yours as he slows to a stop before you become too sensitive.

Your voice is a quiet murmur against his lips. “How have you not cum yet?”

His eyes squeeze into a smile as he laughs, light and bright, the sound so sweet. “I've got stamina for days, darling,” he says, oozing that trademark arrogance you’ve gotten used to.

You clench as hard as you can around him and feel smug when he bites off a shocked curse, his smug facade broken. You can’t help but laugh at his expression, scandalised at it is, though your giggle cuts into a gasp when he pinches one of your nipples and then soothes it with his thumb. He seems amused by the look on your face and then laughs in turn, the two of you dissolving into laughter that’s edged with pleasure, your motions shifting his length inside you.

When the laughter trails off, Jimin stays smiling down at you. You draw your hands over his body, tracing all that smooth skin, and he touches the back of your hands with gentle fingers. There's a beat of silence but it's not an uncomfortable one, the air light after your shared giggles. It's… really nice. It's nice and soft and sweet, just like the expression on Jimin's face, tender, even if he's still buried inside you.

You feel so empty when he slips out, already missing the thickness of his cock when it seems as though he’s about to coax you to roll onto your front. Your hands are still linked with his and you tighten your fingers, making him pause.

“I want to see your face,” you confess quietly. It’s probably too much to ask of him but you feel like if you’re turned away from each other then you’ll feel like nothing more than a fucktoy. Just another warm body in Jimin’s bed. You don’t want that.

Jimin stares at you, surprise written across his features before his expression softens.

"Okay, baby," he murmurs indulgently. The small pet name sounds so sweet in his mouth. "We can stay like this."

He lets your hands go so that he can reach for a pillow that ends settled under your ass, tilting your hips up towards him. You’re not as flexible as he is—maybe you should start doing yoga too—but Jimin doesn’t push you far, hitching your legs up and draping your calves over his shoulders, leaning towards you so that the back of your thighs are warm against his chest. He's bent forward, face hovering above yours, so much skin-on-skin contact that your entire body feels warmed by him.

When he slides back in, you can feel the change in angle immediately. The head of his cock brushes over your g-spot and you suck in a sharp breath; Jimin notices, of course, aiming to hit it again, and again.

It feels good, of course. Amazing. But as much as you’d be happy for Jimin to make you cum again, you’d rather see him fall apart.

You dig your nails into his shoulder blades, turning your head so you can press kisses along the line of his jaw, murmuring into his ear.

“Are you going to let me see you cum?”

Jimin’s hips stutter as your words curl out of your mouth, warm against his skin. You’ve been picturing Park Jimin’s o-face for an endless amount of weeks and you’re ready to finally see the real thing.

“Cum on me,” you say, and then choke in a sob of air as Jimin responds with a sharp snap of his hips. “I want you to cum on me, Jimin, please.”

Your begging is shameless and you know it. Jimin’s face is so close to yours in this position and you can see how blown his pupils are, how his mouth is flushed from your kisses and how he’s been biting at them, his teeth digging into his lip as he starts to get faster, sloppier in his thrusts. It feels so good to know that you’re making him feel like this, that he’s reaching the peak of his pleasure with his body against yours, inside you, above you; he might have had other people in this position in the past, but right now it’s you who’s making Park Jimin come apart.

You urge him onwards with large, pleading eyes, rocking down on his cock each time he thrusts forward, begging the whole time. Pleading for him to cum, to give it to you, to cover you. Jimin obviously likes you loud and desperate, and you're more than willing to give him what he wants.

He slips out of you, fumbling with the condom and carelessly tossing it aside before he starts to pump his cock, hungry to reach his peak as he fucks into his fist. You let your legs fall open as you watch the way his body tenses, his brows drawn together and little breaths falling out of his mouth, barely audible over the wet slide of his cock in his hand. You run your hands over your body, across the swell of your breasts, down your stomach, dipping between your legs, trying to look as arousing as possible, anything to throw Jimin over the edge.

"I've imagined you cumming for months," you confess, words thoughtlessly falling from your lips. "On me, inside me, in my mouth—"

Park Jimin’s o-face is just as gorgeous as the rest of him.

You love how noisy he is. He paints your stomach with his cum, ropes of white spattering across the soft skin of your stomach and hips as he rides out his orgasm, moaning as he continues to milk his twitching cock. It’s so fucking hot, honestly, as is the expression on his face when you swipe your fingers through his cum and lift it to your lips, mouth filled with salt and warm.

“Fuck.” He’s breathless, panting. “You’re unbelievable.”

You let out a small scoff, but it’s edged with affection. “Says the man who was ready to fuck me six ways to Sunday,” you say. “If anyone’s the unbelievable one here, it’s you.”

“I can last longer, but you’re just so hot,” Jimin says. You respond by curling your fingers at him, beckoning him towards you, and you end up sharing a series of messy kisses.

You were, honestly, genuinely angry when you'd stepped into his apartment earlier, even if that irritation had been rounded out with arousal and desire. Now, though, you feel thoroughly boneless and content, loose limbed on Jimin's mattress, his lips and tongue moving against your own.

He leans too far forwards and smears his own cooling cum against his stomach. He doesn’t seem bothered, though. You’re the one who has to coax him to clean up, though with the way he looks at your still naked body, you know he would happily launch straight into a second round of fucking so he can add more cum to the canvas of your skin.

He really is insatiable, apparently, when it comes to you.

Even so, you wonder if Jimin’s going to kick you out now that he’s finally had a taste of you. He doesn't. He keeps you close, your body pressed against his side in a way that feels far more intimate than you would have expected.

“Are you hungry?” Jimin breaks the soft silence.

You’ve been trailing nonsensical patterns over his chest but pause when he says this. “Hm?”

“Are you hungry?” Jimin repeats, and there’s a cheeky smile flickering at the edge of his lips. “I have some more peaches in the fridge, if you’d like one.”

“That peach.” Your voice is an embarrassed hiss and your cheeks burn, but Jimin just laughs, boyish and bright as you slap halfheartedly at him. “That was just unfair. Who eats fruit like that?”

“Someone who’s trying to make it obvious that he’s imagining the peach is his neighbour’s pussy instead.” He’s so brazen. “And it clearly worked, didn’t it?”

It had worked. It's annoyingly effective, actually; thinking about the way Jimin had been staring at you as he tongue fucked that peach has arousal shooting through you, even after being so thoroughly fucked by him.

“Yeah, now you’ve had me,” you say. “What do you plan to do next?”

Jimin goes quiet. You wonder if you’ve misstepped, but then he sweeps his hand down the curve of your spine, goosebumps appearing in the wake of his touch.

“I was planning on asking if you wanted to go out for lunch,” he says, his voice so sweet, miles away from the fuckboy persona he usually puts on. This is the softer Park Jimin that you’ve caught glimpses of when he’s unaware, the side of him you wished he’d show more often—revealed to you, now. “Then, if you said yes, I was going to take you out on a date. If that date went well, then I was going to ask if you’d like to go on another one with me. And then another.”

One thing you know about Park Jimin is this: he doesn’t do dates. Each of his lays are one time affairs, no attachments made, no real connection beyond the physical act of sex. Your heart rate picks up.

“Obviously we’d fuck between dates,” he adds, raising his eyebrows at you in a way that’s so exaggerated that it makes you laugh. Of course. Jimin likes to fuck. “Unless you didn’t want to, but there are only so many peaches I can eat, you know?”

“So if I said I didn't want to fuck, and you ran out of peaches, what would you do?”

Your question seems casual and light but Jimin isn't stupid. He knows what you're really asking. Is he genuinely interested in something more exclusive, or would you just become another notch in his bedpost if he grew tired of waiting for you to spread your legs again?

"I can always buy more peaches."

You stare at him. He's looking at you levelly, a small smile on his face that's a little cocky but mostly warm. And, well, you know he's already gone without other partners for you, even before he'd gotten you in his bed. Park Jimin is serious about you, it seems. He'll wait.

You mouth at his collarbones, tasting the salt of sweat as you kiss and lick at his skin.

"After lunch, we can go back to my apartment, if you want," you whisper against his throat.

Just because Jimin's willing to wait doesn't mean you're going to force him to, especially as you're still as hungry for him as he is for you.

His hands squeeze your sides as you end up kissing again. You feel soft and ripe and sweet, easing under the touch of Jimin's hands and mouth.

"I still think you're a fucking menace, though," you add, and Jimin laughs so hard the bed shakes, still utterly unrepentant and entirely yours.

taglist: @beyoncesdragon

#btswritingcafe #jimin smut #jimin oneshot #jimin x reader #bts #bts au #bts smut #jimin fanfic #jimin #jimin x oc #bts oneshot #park jimin #jimin imagine #jimin scenario #bts fic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist

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twinklelilstarkey · 4 years ago

Note

Can I Maybe request a fight with mtkachuk but ends happy???

A/N: Of course. Hope you like it!

You and Matt had a fight. It honestly didn’t come as a surprise. The both of you were in a bad mood the whole day and all you wanted to do was stay home and be alone. And, well, that didn't happen. All because of your plans.

You had planned, weeks prior, with your friends to go have a big evening and dinner out together. The plan was purely for the enjoyment of everyone. It didn’t require a lot of moving or walking around or even driving, so, no complaining about that. It was just a big hang out in someone’s backyard, a late lunch while you talk about life, and, eventually, late at night, a drive to a restaurant to end the day and have the last group meal.

Again, it was supposed to be something light-hearted, but it didn’t take long for Matthew to get under your skin.

Even though the bad mood was from the both of you, he didn’t even care enough to fake a smile when to greet people. Oh, and you were pissed.

You sat beside him during the whole afternoon while he scrolled through his phone and ignored most conversation starters. You tried to overcompensate and be double as social as you normally are because of it.

By the time you got to dinner, it was safe to say: you were exhausted.

And Matthew? His phone had just died so he had nothing to do but actually talk to people. Your friends were nice enough to welcome the moody man into their group conversations but no matter how many pokes you gave his side or pinches on his arm, he just didn’t seem to understand what you wanted. Which was, of course, to be slightly nicer with everyone.

The drive home was complete hell. The first few minutes were just silent, yet as soon as you get to the first red light, a simple unnecessary comment from him and you just snapped.

You two screamed at one another the whole drive, and scream after scream, it surely just ended with you just hurting one another more and more with each sentence.

You remember flashes of the last minutes before getting inside the apartment. You remember slamming the door of his car, sobbing your way through the lobby of the building, and closing yourself in your shared bedroom to cry in peace.

Matthew stayed in the car for a while longer, he ignored the shivers that ran through him when you slammed the door and he heard you sob over the loud thump. He then just stared at the grey wall in front of him in the parking lot.

Minutes passed and you still hadn’t heard the front door reopen, yet you didn’t go to check on Matt. You continued laying over the sheets of your bed, with your wet cheeks and tight chest, as you stared and sobbed at the doors of your wardrobe.

Matt had actually gotten in the apartment already, but he was so silent with the door that he believes not even a ghost heard him walk in.

He took off his shoes and winter jacket, hanging it by the door. He then dragged his feet from the wooden floors of his home and made his way to the bedroom door.

His hand laid over the door handle and he stopped his movements when he heard another soft sob from the other side of the door. He lifted his hand and took a step back, staring at the dark door in silence.

He made you cry and he doesn’t know how to fix it.

Matthew closed his hand into a fist and let it fall to his side. He couldn’t just walk in there and act like what happened just didn’t. Right?

He brought his hand over his curls and brushed them back in frustration. His eyes drifted to the ground as he thought of a solution but nothing came to mind.

And with that, he decided to walk back to the other side of the house, to the living room, where he slept.

This morning, the first thing you did when you woke up was to quickly lay your hand over the opposite side of the bed. Cold. Your eyes opened slowly over the bright sunlight and you let out a groan.

You had a headache that was completely out of this world, almost as if you were with a hungover. But guess that’s what crying until you fall asleep gets you.

You forced yourself out of bed and quickly changed into some comfortable clothes - some shorts and one of Matt’s old shirts.

Now, when you're washing your face, as you look at yourself in the mirror, you tense up.

You didn’t hear Matthew come home, yesterday.

You, in light speed, turn off the water and dry your face with the towel. You walk out of the bathroom and bedroom and start making your way down the hallway.

The house is silent. Too silent.

As you reach the front door, you eye the hanger by it. His jacket is there, and so are his shoes, right under it. His keys are in the little platter on top of the table right at the entrance.

He’s home.

A sudden feeling of relief washes over you and you decide to make your way to the living room. And that’s where you find him. Sleeping on his side over the large couch.

You take silent steps over to him and notice the soft scowl over his features. You also notice that he didn’t change clothes, he’s still in his jeans and hoodie. Probably not very comfortable.

No matter how mad and sad you were yesterday, you didn’t want him to sleep on the couch, or even not go into the bedroom to get clothes. This room is the coldest of the apartment and the couch is only good for short naps. You can’t even imagine how much his back will hurt when he wakes up.

You walk closer to him and decide to not fight off your wishes. You crouch next to the couch and eye Matt’s sleeping form. You raise your hand and brush his curls back, away from his forehead.

He shifts slightly at your sudden touch, yet you don’t pull away. Your fingers play with the shorter hair on the sides of his head and your fingers then move to caress his temple.

No matter how much he hurt you yesterday, you still love him. You guys have known each other for years, it’s not your first fight, so, it’s not as painful as one would imagine it. At least not on the next day.

Your gaze shifts over to his phone on the side table next to the couch. You reach for it, and, yeah, still no battery. Without taking a second to think, you stand up back on your feet and go over to the charger by the TV.

While you’re connecting it to the charger, a voice breaks the silence in the room.

“What time is it?”

You quickly stand back on your feet and turn to Matthew, who is still laying down but is squinting at the light in the room.

“It’s early.” You tell me, “Probably around 9.”

He nods to let you know that he heard you and you finally force yourself to walk over to him again. Matthew opens his eyes when you stand in front of the light that was attacking him and he stares up at you in silence for just a few seconds before lifting his hand up at you. You take it hesitatingly and he pulls you closer to him. To lay with him.

Matthew turns on his side to open some space for you between him and the couch and you finally do as told. You, carefully and slowly, step over his legs on top of the couch and take a seat before finally laying.

Your faces are close to one another. Your back is glued to the couch and your chest to practically touching Matt’s, yet you don’t hesitate to look up at him.

“When did you come home?” You ask, still with your hand in his.

“Right after you did.” He tells you and you frown a bit, “I was just quiet.”

You nod understandably and feel him start to move his hand on yours. For a second you expect him to pull his hand away, but he does the opposite, he intertwines your fingers with his before letting your hands fall between you two.

“I’m sorry for yesterday.” He breaks the silence. “I was an ass and you didn’t deserve that.”

You give him a small smile and a little shake with your head as if to dismiss whatever had happened yesterday.

“I should’ve apologized right away, but I didn’t. I’m so sorry.” He says it again.

“I forgive you, Matty. Don’t worry about it.” You tell him with a soft tone.

“I have to worry.” He tells you, “You were crying, Y/N. I said so much stupid shit. To you and your friends.”

You let go of his hand and lay yours over his cheek.

“You’re forgiven.” You tell him while looking into his worried eyes, “Just- just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” He tells you, “I promise. I’m never going to be that much of an ass ever again.”

You smile at him and look down at his lips.

You can tell just by the look he’s giving you that he’s still beating himself for it, probably feeling like his apology wasn’t good enough. He has reacted like that before, in smaller arguments, and did end up apologizing to you for more than a week straight - even though you forgave him on the second day.

Sure, his apology is not the long romantic one that leaves a girl swooning at how good he is with words or makes a heart melt, but it’s good enough for you. For all the years you’ve known him, you can tell when he’s apologizing because he needs to and when he wants to. It’s all in his tone and his expression.

He means what he says, even though it’s not much. And just in case you still have a little voice in the back of your mind telling you that you forgave him too quickly, don’t you worry, because he is not done. Expect a minimum of 20 more “I’m sorry’s” just for the rest of the hour.

“Another thing.” You start and he nods quickly, “Please don’t ever sleep on this couch again. Just go sleep on the bed.”

“I didn’t want to make you more upse-”

“You wouldn’t.” You tell him, “Believe me.”

He nods understandingly and you finally land a kiss over his lips. It’s a simple peck, but it’s one that Matthew was dying to get. It relieves some of the pressure in his overthinking mind, and he felt right away. Even if it’s just temporary, it gives him some sort of comfort.

When you pull away and give him a soft grin, his eyes stare back at you lovingly.

“I love you.” He whispers at you. “I’m sorry.”

Your grin stretches into a smile and you give him a very quick kiss.

Here we go.

“Love you too, Matty.” You tell him.

Hope this is good!! I’m kinda worried that this is too rushed but sometimes I just really don’t know how to make it better.

#Matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey

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riddikulus-writings · 3 years ago

Text

Take A Nap

A/N: So yeah. I have a long, in depth fic for these two that's chock full of secrets and fluff and Actual Backstory but for some reason all I can write is smut. This is part two to Escapades and takes place just after the police van rolled down that hill. Also, can someone let me know if that link I tried doesn’t work? I’m still new to writing on this blue hellsite

Word Count: 1734

Pairing: Rick Flag x Female Reader [Codename Nyx, after the Greek Goddess]

Warnings: Still not really any plot, sorry guys. The plot for this is hidden elsewhere. Vaginal fingering. Semi-public sex. Dirty talk. Rick still won't shut up but he really should, though, people are trying to sleep. Choking. Uh, nothing makes sense, really? Movie innacuracies due to the fact this is now a bigger vehicle than the hippie van they were cruising around in, but the same concept still applies.

Apparently, the van was on fire. One by one they stepped from the wreckage, walking out into the road, weapons in hand. Nyx wished she could’ve taken a picture, because she was positive they probably looked pretty cool.

Disoriented. Possibly concust. But cool.

And suddenly, rolling to a stop, was the small dusty van they'd rode to town in. Abner was in the open slider door, waving them in. DuBois puffed out his chest, "Alright. To Jotunheim."

"Not yet," Rick stopped him, "There's something else we need to do first."

"Stop standing like you have an American Flag waving behind you and get in the fucking mini bus, Flag."

Nyx's voice shook him out of his reverie; he was the last one outside. He jogged to catch the bus before it began moving faster, piling in the door and sliding it shut behind him. His eyes immediately found Nyx, seated in the very back. Rick beelined for her through the others and took up the space on her right. Peacemaker called to him from a seat up, "So, where are we going, now?"

"The Mayor's mansion in town," Rick told him, "We need to get Harley."

"Oh, I miss her," Nyx mused quietly.

Oh yeah. Rick cringed to himself, remembering the three missions he, Nyx and Harley had been on before he’d requested to Waller that Harley be benched more often than not. The first had gone by fine, minimal issues. The second was better. No deaths, no infighting amongst the Squad. Nyx had loosened up around other people by then and banter even happened. And the third--

Ain’t it normally the gal makin’ heart eyes at the guy and not the other way around, Ricky?

He’d shaken his head and given Harley a stern glare for assuming things. Harley had simply given him her smuggest million dollar grin and continued about her own business and not his.

“Suicide Squad to Mr. Flag,” a hand was waving in his eyes, slowly coming into focus. It was Nyx’s hand, but Cleo’s heavily accented voice, “What’s the plan?”

Rick cleared his throat, looking among his teammates, “Peacemaker high up, across the street. Sniper for any possible danger. Cleo,” he pointed at her, “Abner and, uh… Sebastian… are around back. Take out any guards back there. DuBois scales the wall to the top, Nyx and I keep watch.”

“Question,” Nyx raised her hand up, “Why can’t we just walk in the front door?”

"That would give us away," Peacemaker told her blatantly, "Instant capture. Dumb idea."

"You're a dumb idea," she retorted, "Actually, a bad idea was bringing you along."

Whoa. Everyone's eyebrows shot up, "Nyx, what the fuck? No infighting. Knock it off," Rick's voice was low but firm with authority.

"He's-- he's got bad vibes about him," Nyx's words slurred, "I-I just don't like him."

"No one does," DuBois told her, patting the very quiet Peacemaker on the shoulder, "Everyone try to get some rest before we get to town. It's going to be a while."

The rest of the team hunkered down in their seats, leaning against their respective windows or leaning forward with their heads against the seat ahead of them. Cleo snuggled into Nanaue's side, and Peacemaker went as far as laying completely flat on his back, his thick splayed legs hanging in the aisle.

Rick reached over and tugged Nyx across the bench seat they were seated on, sliding her into his side, "What’s up between you and Peacemaker?" His voice was quiet, muffled against the hair at her temple.

She ducked away from him a little, tucking her head under his chin, "I've been with him a bit longer than you have. I just… can't explain it but I don't like him. He makes me uneasy."

Rick's thumb started rubbing circles in her hip, "So many trust issues."

"I have my reasonings," she yawned up at him, "Secret reasonings."

"Oh, I'm sure you do," he whispered, grabbing her chin with his free hand so he could look her in the eye. The dim moonlight through the window made her eyes seem almost black, "Extra secret reasonings, huh?"

Nyx leaned closer, staring at his mouth instead of his eyes, "Top secret."

Rick hummed in agreement and closed the gap, sealing his mouth over hers. He wasted no time dipping his tongue into her mouth, drinking in her moans before they could get too loud. He gently pushed on her, laying her down across the length of the seat. Rick followed her down, nestling himself between her legs. Nyx planted a foot on the seat beside Rick’s thigh as he hitched the other into the crook of his elbow, “Gonna be quiet?” he asked quietly, lightly peppering kisses down her neck. Sucking on her now-exposed collarbone.

She whined, a breathless whisper as she nodded desperately, trying to grind her hips against something. Rick moved back up, his free hand moving around her neck, “Quiet.”

He slowly lowered her leg, her boot softly hitting the floor. Rick sent a sidelong glance through the rest of the dark bus, and so far no one had moved from their previous positions. Thank God for that. What a sight they’d wake up to; Nyx spread over the only bench seat here, Rick looming over her, a hand around her throat. They’d either think he was trying to kill her, or get very uncomfortable very fast and ask him to stop.

Which, he wasn’t about to do whether someone woke up or not.

He turned his attention back to the panting woman beneath him, raising an eyebrow at the grin spread over her face. The more pressure he applied to her throat, the wider her lips spread. His right hand worked at the buttons of her black pants, “Filthy little thing,” he muttered, “There’s other people on this bus.” Rick snaked his hand down the front of her pants, stroking down her dripping sex, “All for me?”

“That is you,” she panted out, grabbing the back of his head to pull him down for another searing kiss. When he scooped his cum back up with two fingers and pushed them inside, Nyx bit his bottom lip so hard he was sure she’d drawn blood. He leaned into it, pushing his tongue on her mouth again as he worked his fingers and scissored her open.

“Quiet,” he admonished, again, pressing his free hand against her throat once more. He pinned her to the seat, squeezing his hand as tight as he’d let himself, “Gonna wake everyone up,” he breathed out, his nose brushing against hers.

Again, Nyx’s grin grew, her pearly teeth glowing in the shards of moonlight passing through the windows, “Good.”

Rick almost growled but couldn’t without fear of waking someone up. Instead he buried his face in her shoulder, “Fuckin’ filthy little thing,” he repeated, curling his fingers against that certain spongy spot he’d found that made her grind hard into the palm of his hand, “Gonna be a good girl and keep me in there?” She whined out a high pitched yes but otherwise stayed breathless, quiet pants crawling up her throat and Rick wanted nothing more than to shove his cock in her open mouth. He pulled up from her neck, almost sneering with the strain of trying to stay quiet as he worked his thumb up to the peak of her cunt, “Want you to cum all over my hand, sweetheart. Gonna do that for me? See if you can stay quiet.”

“Bastard,” was the whimper he got.

“That’s not very nice,” he told her, pressing his thumb hard on her clit. Her arm suddenly flew up to cover her face, Nyx burying her face in the crook of her elbow as Rick buried a third finger deep in her cunt, his thumb rubbing fast circles. He moved his hand from her throat, sliding it instead to her hip to hold her down as she bucked into his hand, “C’mon, almost there. I got you,” he muttered.

Her hips stuttered, low whines coming muffled by her elbow. She was choking his fingers and he had to remove one so he could keep them moving, working her through her orgasm. Rick’s hand got soaked suddenly and she went limp, her only movement coming from her chest that moved with rapid breaths, “Bitch.”

Rick tugged her arm from her face as he slid his hand from her pants, “What’s the matter, Nyx?”

“I--” she panted out, “hate being-- quiet.”

He flashed her a bright grin and tugged her pants back into place, giving her stomach a gentle pat, “You didn’t have to,” a quick peck on the lips, “But it would’ve been a bit awkward for the others. Especially when I wouldn’t stop.” Another whimper, and he raised an eyebrow at her, but simply stuck his fingers in his mouth.

“I’m going to sleep,” she whispered, dropping her hand off the side of the seat. Her knuckles brushed the floor. The other arm folded behind her head.

“I sure fuckin’ hope so,” DuBois grumbled from somewhere up front. “You two are disgusting.”

"No one told you to listen," Rick shot back, his whisper loud enough for DuBois to hear over Nyx's stifled giggles. Rick was grinning, though; thankfully Bloodsport couldn't see it.

"Someone needs to nap," Nyx murmured, a small smirk plastered over her mouth, "He sounds cranky."

“You ain't laying down there,” Rick suddenly tugged her back up to snuggle into his side, his arm draped over her shoulders as he scooted them both to the end of the seat, “Leanin’ or layin’?”

“Lay,” she yawned.

He turned and pressed his back to the window, head lolling to the side to lean on the seat. After some shuffling, she was between his legs, back to his chest. HIs arms wrapped around her, one leg from each of them on the seat and the other leg on the floor. They looked like they had the same boots on. Nyx nuzzled her head into his shoulder, “Y’smell nice…”

“I smell like jungle and sweat,” he chuckled, his laugh vibrating through her, “And blood. Go to sleep.”

And they both dozed off like that, just as they had several times before on Nyx’s couch. Their breathing evened, Nyx drooling a little onto Rick’s bicep. Rick shifted in his sleep and snugged her closer to his chest.

#Rick Flag #Rick Flag x reader #Rick Flag x female reader #rick flag smut #the suicide squad #Rick Flag The Suicide Squad #dc #dceu #suicide squad fan fiction #suicide squad fanfiction #rick flag imagine #rick flag one shot #dceu fan fiction

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

Text

jingle your bells

w/c: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of drinking and a suggestive joke

summary: peter gets drunk at tony’s christmas party and confesses a thing or two

a/n: today’s the day yayyy merry christmas guys i hope you’ve gotten and gave some good stuff!! i hope you’re all staying safe too <3 this was requested as a headcanon but i put a twist on it because why not

━━━ ➳❥

your dad loves parties. hosting them, attending them, crashing them. he’s actually known for it.

this year, he’s throwing a little party for christmas. everyone at the compound is coming, but there’s someone you care about more than the rest. peter. he’s one of your favorite people and closest friends.

your crush, too.

these things can be a bit overwhelming, so the two of you always stick together. you’ll sometimes sneak upstairs to your room and binge movies with pajamas and all kinds of junk food. it’s your own party in a way. you two enjoy the time you don’t spend at the real ones more than anything.

thor and bruce are currently doing their own rendition of all i want for christmas. your dad made the mistake of setting up karaoke. you laugh along, natasha dragging them in every way possible. steve snaps to the beat. wanda is covering her face in second hand embarrassment. vision offers tips that he searched every possible database for.

sam and bucky took peter somewhere a while ago. that can never be good. he’ll probably come back covered in whipped cream or something stupid. those two never leave peter alone. it’s kind of sweet when you think about it.

“thank you! thank you very much, children,” thor grins as everyone applauds the performance. bruce takes a bow. “we’ll be here all night.” you shake your head at the two of them. they’re too funny. natasha shares a look with you. “boo, get off the stage!” bucky calls as he enters the room. sam and peter follow behind him.

peter is smiling like an idiot, not that his smile isn’t adorable. it just seems a bit off. you really have to find out what they did to him.

“uh, this is my stage,” thor scoffs and grabs the microphone off the stand. grimacing, bruce puts a hand on his shoulder. “let’s calm down, buddy.” “no, i think we should do another one. santa baby.” he points to natasha. “hit play for us, thanks.” she sighs and puts the song on through the speakers. you can’t win with thor.

you watch sam whisper something to peter, then bucky cackles. tony and pepper make their way in and sit down next to you on the couch.

“what’s going on in here?” pepper asks you, nudging your arm. you’re more concerned with what’s going on with peter. “a sing off. it was karaoke, but bucky riled thor up.” your dad clicks his tongue. “that absolute madman.”

“he’s not the only madman tonight,” your mom comments, widening her eyes at the sight in front of her. you furrow your eyebrows and follow her gaze. your mouth drops open.

peter is dancing around in front of them. he’s trying to hip bump bruce, who keeps inching closer to thor. sam and bucky are doubled over from the other side of the room. they ruined your poor peter.

thor chuckles and pats peter on the back. he happily accepts it very much like a puppy would. he’s wearing a headband with jingle bells on it and there’s a weird stain on his shirt.

“little spider has been drinking,” thor announces, peter’s cheeks glowing red. that makes sense. you immediately glare at sam and bucky. they raise their hands in defense. they’re still on the hook.

“god, i can smell him from here,” natasha agrees and waves her hand in the air. “they‘d be able to smell him from sokovia,” wanda mutters. “parker? are you shit-faced right now?” your dad speaks up, a look between concern and anger on his face. his giggling gives him away.

“it’s christmas. you’re drunk out of your mind on christmas. i can’t have that.” tony points upstairs, signaling for him to go. you’re pretty sure peter didn’t process a word of that. pepper rubs up and down tony’s arm with a frown. “oh, tony. don’t be a grinch.” he sighs and watches peter try to climb into steve’s lap.

“he needs to sleep this off, pep. kid hasn’t had a drop of alcohol before tonight.” it’s true. he’s big on not drinking until he’s old enough. you have to wonder what changed. “i’ll bring him to his room, dad. he shouldn’t go alone,” you offer, already getting to your feet. “thanks, y/n/n. look at you, making good choices.”

you walk up to steve and give him an apologetic smile. relief washes over his face. “he’s all yours,” he laughs out. “all yours,” peter repeats in a giggle. “mhm. let’s go, peter.” you take him by his arm and pull him away from steve.

he’s easy to drag along because of the state he’s in. he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, your arm around his waist.

“you smell so good, y/n. sooo nice,” peter almost sings, sniffing you for good measure. “you don’t,” you deadpan. the two of you pass by sam and bucky on your way out. “you’re actually messed up for this,” you tell them under your breath, bucky gasping. “hey, miss stark. it was his idea!” sam yells out to you. you’re not in the mood to hear it.

peter cuddles into your side while you lead him up the stairs. his breath is hot on you and wreaks of expensive liquor from your dad’s cabinet. you never imagined you’d see him like this.

he’s still clinging onto you, so you open his door by pressing your back to it. “come on, pete. you have to lay down,” you tell him as nicely as you can. he stops walking in the middle of the room. “wait. lemme show you something.” he wiggles his eyebrows and shakes his head around. it makes the jingle bells on his head... jingle.

“did you like it?” peter asks and leans his head down to do it again. stifling a laugh, you grab his shoulders. “yeah, peter. i liked it. you can stop jingling your bells now.” “you should... should jingle my bells,” he slurs, smirking at you. you quickly take your hands off of him. “oh my god, you’re so drunk.”

he’s doing all the things you wish he would when he’s sober.

“are you mad at me?” peter pouts his lip out. “don’t be mad at me, y/n.” you press your own lips together and take a seat on his bed. he plops down next to you, pushing his head against your shoulder. “no, but i am mad at sam and bucky. i can’t believe they’d do this.” his face twists up in confusion. “and on christmas.”

“do what?” he wonders and settles his head on you. “let you drink?” you ask like it should be obvious. it should be. “no, no, no. they were helping me.” peter puffs some air out of his cheeks. that gives him the idea to blow into your ear. you flinch and push at his shoulder.

“peter, they gave you alcohol. it’s clearly not good for you.” “no, y/n.” he closes his eyes and lays his head on your shoulder again. “i got my own. they-“ he’s interrupted by a hiccup. you can’t help but laugh, pulling him closer. “‘scuse me. they helped me with something else.”

drunk peter is kind of cute. super cute, to be real.

“what was it?” you decide to entertain him, figuring he’ll say something ridiculous. “asking you out,” peter answers way too casually. you almost don’t believe him. then again, he’s pretty self aware at the moment. it’s probably because his powers give him a higher tolerance.

peter feels your heart speeding up next to him. he presses his head to it so he can hear. “you- are you serious?” you stammer, willing him to look up at you. “uh huh. i like you a lot.” a lazy smile takes over his face. “a lot a lot.” “peter...” he’s still going.

“i asked them for advice. it sucked. we were in the kitchen and i remembered your dad’s...” he pauses to think of the word. “stash. i thought drinking would make me loose.” he moves his body around for a visual.

you’re still shocked sam and bucky let him go through with it. it does sound like them, though. you’re more shocked peter likes you back and just admitted it.

sober peter would never admit any of that.

“you don’t have to change anything for me, pete. i like you, too.” you grin down at him. peter returns it and puckers his lips at you. “cool. does that mean i can get a kiss?” letting out a breath, you help him sit up again. he whines about it for all of ten seconds before yawning.

this isn’t exactly how you saw this moment going. peter is too shy to ever really initiate anything, and you never knew if he felt the same. you’re always trying to figure out each other’s boundaries. he has to debate with himself about little things like giving you his jacket or facetiming you at night.

he never wants to overstep. you never want to scare him off. having him drunkenly snuggle with you breaks all those boundaries. at least something finally does. the kiss will have to wait until whatever he drank leaves his system, which hopefully won’t be long. his powers are a possibility once again.

“it’s nap time for you,” you tell peter like he’s a kid. he protests like one, too. “but i’m not tired.” “yeah you are. you just yawned.” he opens his mouth to speak. you talk first. “lay down.” he’s caught off guard this time when you push at his chest. it makes him fall back on the pillows.

you giggle and take the jingle bells off his head. they can’t be comfortable. peter makes grabby hands for you. “come lay with me, baby,” he mumbles into the pillow his face is squished in. your heart flutters hearing him call you that. his arms do look inviting. they’re all ready to hold you.

too bad he’s on time out.

“i can’t. i’m supposed to be back downstairs already.” you unenthusiastically get up from the bed. peter groans, rolling onto his side. “i want christmas cuddles.” “you’ll get some after your nap,” you promise and poke his shoulder. “and a kiss.” he closes his eyes the literal second you say that.

you like this boy way too much.

#tom holland #peter parker #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x stark!reader #tony stark #marvel #spiderman

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ooffies · 4 years ago

Text

ʀᴏᴀᴅᴛʀɪᴘ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ

Characters: Venti, Zhongli and Diluc

Warnings: Just some kissing, nothing too extreme

A/N: okay so this isn't a request but the idea wormed it's way into my head and I couldn't get it out. I'm definitely doing other characters so this will probably be a 2 or 3 part series! Anyways, I hope you like it! :)

Tagging @genshin-obsessed (hi pocket! -🍷❤)

Venti:

Probably knows the lyrics to all the songs on the radio/playlist

Definitely made at least two or more playlist for the trip

Makes you drive because it’s too much effort and drains so much of his energy He’s just lazy

Makes you stop at Starbucks every morning, if it’s a multiple day drive it’s at least 3 times

He has three moods during road trips

One: Overly excited

Talks on and on about the stuff you two will do and how much fun you two will

Two: Complaining way too much

His back hurts

His legs are stiff

The seat is uncomfortable

“Are we there yet?” x100000

Will literally ask it every 2 seconds

He’s all pouty and grumpy

Three: Deep sleep

Finally you have a few hours peace and quiet

Probably caused from a caffeine crash

Sleeps like he’s dead, you literally cannot wake him up and you don’t want too jkjkjk

He’s usually quiet when he wakes up or is about to fall asleep. But when he is half asleep he always wants to hold your hand. Will probably tell you how much he loves you and how lucky he is to go on this trip with you while struggling not to fall asleep. Then conks out 5 minutes later.

Empty landscape surrounded you for miles, it looked like it went on forever. Music hummed in the background as the car kept a steady pace. “Are we there yet?” Venti asked in an annoyed tone. For the past eight minutes he had been moving around in his seat trying to find a comfortable position. He was now sitting crossed legged, a large frown on his face as he twirled his hair. “Not yet love, we have 3 more hours till we reach the hotel,” you replied. “UGHHHHHHHHH! And then we have 7 more hours to drive tomorrow and how many days till we actually get there!?!” “2 babe,” “UGHHHHHH THAT’S SO LONG!” he whined. He sunk into his chair, his frown growing. You chuckled at his antics, “Weren’t you talking about how great this trip was gonna be like an hour ago?” you said with a smile. “Hush it” you couldn’t help but laugh at his response. The sun began to set as the car continued on down the highway. You felt a hand lightly rest itself on yours. You looked over at Venti. His half lidded eyes focused on the road. You smiled and brought his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it, “Feeling sleepy? Are you finally crashing from all that caffeine?” “Mhm” he hummed sleepily. There was a brief peaceful moment of silence between the two of you. “Thanks for taking me on this trip babe…… I love you….” you laughed lightly at his sleep tone, “Love you too.” You looked over to see him conked out and already lightly snoring. Another quiet laugh escaped you, “Sleep well sleeping beauty.”

Zhongli:

Doesn’t mind driving, he’ll drive for the whole trip if you’d like

But also doesn’t mind switching driving shifts with you

He’s actually a decent driver which came as a bit of a surprise (he got a little offended when you told him that)

He can and will talk the whole trip

Has a abundance of topics and stories he will talk about

He will go into deep detail, even if it’s just about his morning cup of tea he will go into detail about it.

If you two take turns driving he’ll definitely nap while you drive

Peepaw needs his naps :((((

He 100% doesn’t get car sick

He can read a whole book during a drive without looking at the road even once

Probably talks you while you’re sleeping when he’s the driver

He won’t even notice you’re asleep for a good while, he’ll just keep talking and talking

One time he didn’t even notice you were asleep and when you woke up he was still going on about that same subject.

He won’t eat fast food. He will make you two eat at restaurant or diner

Also he always books fancy hotels too. Not Marriot or Motel 6 for him. Nope. Not in a million years.

He loves exploring the towns and cities you guys stop in. Checking out the shops and local attractions, he’s all for that.

Probably plans for your two to stay a few extra days in the big cities

You stepped out into the cool night taking a deep breath of air. You and Zhongli had just finished eating dinner at some fancy restaurant he had picked out. (You had pay of course). “Thank you for dinner beloved.” you looked over him, “Yeah it’s no problem but maybe next time you shouldn’t forget your wallet so you can actually pay for once.” you said with a cheeky grin. “Urk” he clutched his chest and said with a chuckle, “Why must you wound me with your harsh words darling?” “ I’m just messing with ya peepaw!” you said as you lightly punched his shoulder. “Hey I’m not that old,” as he offered you his arm. You wrapped your arm around his as you two began walking back to the hotel. “You seriously act like an old man though,” “It’s because I have an old soul,” “Yeah you sure do…….” he let out a laugh and kissed your forehead, “It’s never a boring conversation with you my love.” “Can’t say the same about you peepaw” he burst out laughing at that comment, he even snorted once or twice much to your amusement. You couldn’t help but laugh with him. After the laughter you looked at him and said, “Sorry if I was a bit harsh but I couldn’t help myself!” you said, still giggling a bit. He returned your gaze with a warm smile and wrapped his arms around your waist. He pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet and you couldn’t help but smile when his lips left yours. Still hand in hand you two had resumed walking back to the hotel, “So…. are you ready to hit the road again tomorrow morning?” “Yes my darling, I’m actually quite excited to spend more time with you. This trip has been fantastic so far, part of me wishes it will never end…..”

Diluc:

Will drive the whole time

He refuses to let you drive

Why may you ask?

Because he gets car sick very easily. He’ll never admit it though.

Tease him about it and he’ll get all flustered.

Probably has road rage

Not much of a big talker so it’s either idle chit chat between you two, him listening to you or just a comfortable silence while listening to music.

I feel like he has jazz CDs, he just gives off the vibe

Like you guys will drive through a dead zone and the you know you have some sweet jazz music serenading your ears

Doesn’t mind listening to your music either, he’s not very picky.

He always turns down the volume of the music when you’re sleeping because he doesn’t want you to wake you up

Doesn’t mind fast food at all which is a bit surprising.

When he needs a quick nap he’ll pull into a rest stop

Even if you offer to drive while he’s asleep he still won’t let you

Definitely planned out everything beforehand. Already booked the hotel rooms and all that.

He asked you what you wanted to do and practically based the whole plan off that because he wants you to see you smile.

The rest stop parking lot was practically empty. You looked up at the blue sky through the sunroof. Absolutely no clouds were in the sky, it was just like a never ending bright blue blanket. You looked over at Dliuc who was quietly sleeping. You watched his chest rise and fall. He looked so peaceful, so at ease. You twirled the ends of his bright red hair between your fingers. He had asked you to wake him up in twenty minutes. You checked the time. Five more minutes. You let out a soft sigh, turning your gaze back to the sky. You continued to play with his hair as you stared into never ending blue. After what felt like an eternity later, you finally checked the time again. Looks like you gave him an extra minute. “Hmmmm...How should I wake him up?” you thought to yourself. Well you could be nice to him and gently shake him awake, but that was boring. You could tickle him but you weren’t sure if he was tickle-ish or not…… After a little more pondering you finally got the perfect idea. You quickly sat up and leaned over him and gently cupped his face in your hands. You brought your lips to his and gave him a deep kiss. His eyes quickly snapped open as he jolted awake. You broke the kiss to say “Good morning sleeping beauty. How was your nap?” he just stared back at you, a bright red blush covering his face. “I-it was fine,” was all he managed to muster out. You giggled and leaned back in your seat, “Well that's nice-'' But before you could finish Diluc’s lips were on yours, continuing the kiss. This time he was the one cupping your face as he pulled you closer. His kisses were tender and soft, his hands were warm against your face. Once the kiss finally broke, Diluc cleared his throat, “Are you ready to get back on the road.” He was still clearly blushing, even the tips of his ears were burning red. You couldn’t help but giggle at him, “Yep! Let’s get this show back on the road!”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin zhongli #genshin venti #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr #zhongli #venti #diluc x reader #diluc headcanons #zhongli x reader #zhongli headcanons #venti x reader #venti headcanons

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let-me-luve-you · 4 years ago

Text

Oscars Over Birthdays

Tom x Sister

Summary: The day Tom gets fantastic news is the same day your family forgot about your birthday.

Warnings: forgotten birthday, angst, slight cussing, rude family, fluff ending

MASTERLIST

You woke up and smiled as you smelled Sam cooking your favorite breakfast meal, cinnamon waffles. Tom introduced you to them on your grub tour in New York City. Weirdly enough, only the two of you liked them. The rest of the family didn’t. You quickly got dressed and had to stop yourself from running downstairs. You walked into the kitchen with a smile on your face seeing all four brothers and your parents there.

“What do we have here? Is that cinnamon waffles I smell?” You asked, faking confusion as why your favorite breakfast was being made.

“We have some celebrating to do Y/N.” Dom said, smiling at you.

“Tom has been nominated for an Oscar.” Nikki said. You looked at Tom shocked.

“Oh my gosh T!” You said running over to him to give him a hug. “That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks Y/N/N.” He smiled at you.

You walked over to the counter and made you a plate. Sam smiled at you as you grabbed a couple of extra waffles. “Eat up Y/N. I’m making a big dinner tonight. Everyone is coming.”

“Really?” You said trying to hide the smile of maybe your family was going to surprise you with a small party.

“Yup. Haz, Tuwaine, and the rest of the gang will be here.” Harry said.

“Cool.” You said trying not to sound hurt. You sat through breakfast and everyone just talked about Tom’s nomination and the rest of the nominations. You were quieter than normal, but your family didn’t notice.

You got a text around lunchtime from your best friend Ryann. It was always tradition to go out and eat on each other’s birthdays. No matter what your schedules were.

“Hey Y/N.” She said as you sat across from her at your favorite Italian restaurant. “How’s your birthday so far? What did your parents get you? What did your brothers get you?”

You sighed, “it’s been alright. I haven’t gotten anything. They haven’t even acknowledged my birthday yet. I thought maybe they would surprise me with dinner tonight when they mentioned Sam cooking, but they are doing it for Tom.”

“I saw that online this morning. I’m happy for him, but that’s no reason to forget your birthday.” Ryann said. You sighed once again and nodded in agreement. “Well you know what, forget it. I’ll give you the best birthday ever just with my presence.”

“My day is already better.” You said with a laugh, but you actually meant it. Throughout lunch, you and Ryann joked around and talked. You hadn't seen her in over a week due to her work schedule working against yours. It was nice to catch up in person.

“Here. I know you told me not to buy you anything, but I couldn’t help myself. Now after you telling me about your morning, I’m glad I did.” She said handing you a gift bag with Happy Birthday on it. You gave her a glare but she could see happiness in your eyes.

You took out the tissue paper and pulled out a basket with a bunch of small gifts in it. You saw a bath bomb with some bath salts, all of your favorite snacks, the new Ryan Reynolds movie, and an envelope. You gently set the basket onto the table and pulled out the card. You felt the thickness of it and glanced up at your friend. Ryann just smirked at you as you opened the card and saw a bunch of gift cards to your favorite restaurants, your favorite cafe, and your favorite shops.

“You didn’t?” You asked, shocked seeing the multiple different gift cards.

“Oh but I did because you deserve it.” She said smiling brightly at you.

“I don’t deserve you.” You said as you started to tear up. “This is too much.”

“No it’s not. Plus it makes up for that trip to LA you bought me.” Ryann said matter of factly.

“I invited you to Tom’s premiere. It only made sense to pay for it.”

“Yeah, but then you continued to buy everything. Even bought my dress for the premiere.” She said with a raised eyebrow.

You sighed before setting the card down and getting up to hug her. “Thank you Ry. You’ve made this birthday one of the best.”

She looked at you sadly, “I’m here to always make your days better.” You grabbed your gift and moved to exit the restaurant. Ryann followed. “Will you let me know how it goes with your family?”

“Yeah. Hopefully they’ve remembered by now.” You said sadly. “You’re welcome to come over for dinner tonight. Tom won’t be mad at you crashing his celebration dinner.”

“I’m meeting with Jake tonight or I would.” She said. When she looked up at you she added, “but I can reschedule. He’ll understand.”

“No, don't do that. You two are so close to making it official, I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“You would never get in the way. Jake likes you and he knows how much you mean to me.” Ryann said as you stopped at your car.

“Please don’t cancel on him.” You begged. “Just call me when you get home so I can hear all about it.”

“I will.” Ryann gave you one last hug before she walked to her car. You got into yours and drove to your house. When you walked in, you could hear a movie playing and the light sound of your family talking. You walked upstairs to your room to set your gift down. When you walked back downstairs, you decided to join Sam in the kitchen.

“Hey Sammy.” You said as you sat at the counter.

“Hey Y/N/N. Where have you been?” He asked. He kept his head down as he chopped the vegetables.

“Ryann took me to lunch.” You said.

“Fun. Hopefully you didn’t feel up too much? I’m cooking a big feast.” He said jokingly.

“I’ll always have room for your cooking. What are you making for dessert?” You asked, hoping maybe it would be your favorite pie or red velvet cupcakes.

“Crepe bar.” He said lifting his knife to point towards the table in the corner where the fillings already set. You stared at it for a moment so you could hide the disappointment from Sam.

“Yum. I love your crepes.” You turned and smiled at Sam. He smiled back. “What movie are they watching in there?”

“I think they’re watching that new KJ Apa movie. What is it?”

“Songbird?” You asked.

“Yeah that’s it’s. Have you seen it yet?” He asked.

“No but I’ve been wanting to. I’m not going to walk in there to start it in the middle. I’m going to go take a nap.” You said standing up. “Come get me when dinner is ready.”

“Okay, I will.” He said, turning towards the stove. You walked upstairs and went into your room. You felt tears building in your eyes but you refused to cry on your birthday. After shutting your door, you threw yourself onto your bed and pulled out your phone. You don’t get on social media much, but figured it was time just to do a quick check on all of it. You got on Twitter first and saw that Tom was trending. You clicked on it to see what everyone was saying.

Tom being nominated for an Oscar is what he deserves.

We stan an Oscar nominated king

You kept scrolling through the fans congratulating Tom when you saw one that caught your eye.

Tom being nominated for an Oscar on his sister’s (who’s his best friend) birthday is what I live for. Congrats Tom and happy birthday Y/N. You didn’t want to post until later tonight so you wouldn’t get bombarded with tweets, so you saved the tweet to thank the fan later. You then decided to search your name. You knew looking yourself up brought nothing but pain, but you wanted to see what people were saying. Seeing if anyone else wished you a happy birthday. What you didn’t expect was everyone hating on you for being the only family member that hadn’t posted about Tom’s nomination.

You knew it shouldn’t bother you because you had told Tom personally, but it hurt that these fans were saying such horrible things because you didn’t post on social media. You saw some try to defend you, but then you saw a fan had taken a picture of you and Ryann at lunch.

Y/N can’t congratulate Tom for his Oscar nomination but she can go out to lunch with a friend. What a bitch.

You immediately closed the app and took a deep breath. You’re not a bitch. You were spending your birthday with your best friend. There’s nothing wrong with that, you thought to yourself. You decide to delete the social media apps off your phone so you didn’t risk getting back on them today. You set your phone down and stared at the ceiling. Insecure thoughts flooding your mind.

You didn’t remember falling asleep but when you woke up you saw Tom smiling down at you. “It’s about time you woke up. I’ve been trying to wake you for five minutes.” He laughed.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize I fell asleep.” You whispered. Tom leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Come on. Everyone is here and dinner is ready.” Tom said, pulling you up from the bed. “After dinner, we are getting a fire started in the backyard.” You smiled at him and followed him to the dining room.

You sat down and noticed all of your family sitting there with Tuwaine and Harrison sitting there as well. You could tell they were all waiting on you.

“Good nap Y/N?” Harry said laughing.

“Shut up.” You whispered as you stared at him.

“This dinner is for Tom.” Dom said, raising his glass to cheers Tom. “He worked his butt off to get to this point and it’s only the beginning. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” Everyone said as they held up their drinks. You turned and smiled at Tom.

“I know I said it earlier, but I’m extremely proud of you. I'm glad I have you as my role model. Love you.” You whispered and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you Y/N/N.” He said smiling at you. “I love you too.”

Dinner went by quickly with everyone talking and laughing. You couldn’t remember the last time you had all sat down and ate dinner like this. Now you all sat outside around the fire pit. You sat next to Tom and shared a blanket with him. You just sat back and watched everyone interact. You get lost in your thoughts wondering how your family could forget your birthday. After an hour of sitting there, you decided you would go to bed. Even though it was still early, you just wanted to be alone.

“It’s been fun you guys, but I’m off to bed.” You said.

“Are you sick? You’ve been sleeping a lot today.” Nikki said, full of worry.

“No, I'm not sick. Just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” You lied. “Thanks for dinner Sam. And congrats again Tom. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight Y/N.” You heard everyone say. You walked up stairs and switched into pajamas. You were too mentally exhausted to shower. You figured you could just do it in the morning. Once your head hit your pillow, you were out.

Outside everyone kept talking. Harry was explaining something that he learned on set. Tom had heard the story a thousand times already so he pulled his phone out and got on Instagram for the first time today. He was scrolling through his timeline to see what his friends were doing when he came across a post Ryann had posted. He saw his sister smiling at the camera as she sat at a restaurant with a piece of cake in front of her with a sparkler candle on top. He looked at it confused and decided to slide through the multiple pictures. He saw one picture of her with a basket of goodies in front of her as she read a card. He scrolled down enough to see the caption.

A happiest 23rd birthday to my best friend and soulmate. I’m so lucky I got to spend time with you on your birthday. I love you and hope you have an amazing day.

Tom gulped as he stared at the phone with wide eyes. Paddy noticed his older brothers change in demeanor.

“What is it Tom?” Paddy asked concern. Tom looked up to him with pain lacing his eyes.

“Your nudes get leaked or something?” Harry joked. Nikki slapped him in the back of the head.

“It’s Y/N birthday.” Tom said. Everyone went silent. “We forgot her fucking birthday.” Tom stood up and paced. He was mad at himself for letting himself forget his best friend’s birthday. You and Tom had always been so close that everyone thought you were twins. You were only a year apart. It made sense that people would suggest that. Some even said they didn’t think Sam and Harry were the twins in the family.

“That’s why she’s been quiet today. We’re so horrible. I can’t believe I forgot my daughter’s birthday.” Nikki whispered more to herself but everyone heard. Tom looked at his parents and siblings before walking towards the house. He quickly walked in and ran to your room. He hoped you weren’t asleep yet. When he knocked on the door and didn’t get an answer, he decided to walk in. Your face was lit up from the lamp on your bedside table. What hurt Tom even more was he could see the tears that stained your face.

“Y/N?” He asked quietly. Thinking maybe you weren’t asleep. When he got no response and didn’t even see you flinch, he knew you were out for the night. He grabbed your extra pillow and blanket and sat next to your bed.

The next morning you woke up. Your eyes feel like sandpaper from crying. You didn’t even remember crying, but with the emotions from the day before it made sense you would. You gently sat up and jumped when you saw a figure lying on the floor. You leaned over to see Tom asleep.

“Tom?” You asked. He didn’t move. You got up and sat next to him. “Tom?” You asked again as you shook him. Tom slowly opened his eyes and looked around confused before looking at you. “Why are you sleeping on my floor?”

“I came in here shortly after you left so I could say how sorry I am for not remembering your birthday.”

You sighed. “It’s okay Tom. You got amazing news yester-“

Tom interrupted you, “it’s not okay. I don’t care if I was elected queen of England, no news is big enough to forget your birthday.”

“Queen of England?” You asked with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

“I think I would be an amazing queen.” He said with a small laugh. “Seriously though, I feel horrible.” Tom pulled you to him. You nestled your head into the crook of his neck. “I’m going to spend the day making it up to you. I promise. So get dressed. We’re starting with breakfast.”

You nodded and pulled away trying to hide the smile on your face. After getting dressed you walked downstairs and heard your family talking in the living room. When you walked in your whole family looked at you.

“Happy birthday Y/N!” They all yelled. Nikki ran over to you and crushed you in a hug. “I’m so sorry baby. We’re going to celebrate you tonight.”

“Yeah! I’ll cook all of your favorites.” Sam said.

“Don’t do that. You cooked all day yesterday.” Sam went to protest, “how about just make some red velvet cupcakes and we’ll call it good. We can order a pizza and have a nice family movie night.”

“Deal.” Sam said. After all members of your family apologized, you turned to Tom.

“Are you ready? I’m hungry.” You said with a pout.

“Then let’s go. Anyone want to join us for breakfast? We are also going to get lunch as well.”

“We will join you for lunch. Enjoy the morning together.” Dom said. Tom smiled at him before he turned to you and held his arm out for you to grab so he could lead you to the car.

“I’m going to treat you like the queen you are today. So if you want to do anything specific, just tell me.” Tom said as he got into the car with you.

“Just spending time with you and everyone else is enough. Thank you for making up for yesterday. I appreciate it.”

“I’ll go all out next year to fully make up for it.” He said.

“As long as there’s a bounce castle.” You joked with a laugh but Tom knew you weren’t joking.

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