#there needs to be a warning sticker on his hips | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gretavangroupie · 11 months ago

Text

Edible

Word count: 16.0k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Drugs. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Breeding Kink (if you squint), Cum Play. Major Fluff.

A/N: The very last part of our four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Jake's story to wrap things up! Thank you so much for reading these one shots over the last few weeks, maybe we will do it again soon! ❤️

Usually, Valentine’s day wasn’t a holiday that bothered you. As a single person in your mid 20’s, it’s almost expected that you dread the 14th of February. The years before and between relationships never bothered you, but as you slip into your pajamas at 7:50pm on a Friday night that also happens to be Valentine’s day, the realization that you’re alone hits a little harder.

You shuffle down the stairs in your slippers and matching PJ set, your destination being the bottle of red wine in the fridge. As you stand in front of the door and look at the dry erase calendar on your freezer, you avoid acknowledging the little heart you drew around the number 14 when you were clearly in better spirits. You also happen to see the little sticker that lives permanently above the column of Fridays. Trash day.

Letting your head fall back, you groan at the ceiling before turning on your heel towards the trash can. Lifting the half-full bag out and tying it off, you consider whether or not you really need to take the bin out to the curb… It’s so, so cold, and you’ve had a tough day already.

Shaking your head, you pull yourself out of your thoughts and decide to grow up. You get moving and elbow the door open, wincing as the cold air hits your skin. The short sleeve shirt and matching shorts combination are really not on your side at this moment as you jog down the four stairs towards the spot where your trash bins live.

It’s a minute of wrestling before you get the bag in and flip the top closed, grabbing the handle and beginning to wheel it towards the end of your driveway. The rattling of the plastic wheels is so damn loud you feel like you’re waking up half your neighborhood. Oh, wait. They’re probably all out for Valentine’s day. You can’t help but roll your eyes as you kick the bin upright and position it on the patch of grass near the curb.

As you’re about to turn and head inside, you hear rumbling coming from across the street. When you raise your head and try to focus despite the limited light from the streetlamps and the clouded moon, you see your neighbor from across the street. For a moment you feel a little vulnerable in your pajama set, legs bare and no bra, but then you see he’s shirtless, a thin bathrobe over his shoulders and down his back, but it’s hanging open, giving way to show you his tanned chest and stomach. His sweatpants are hanging sinfully low on his hips, and even though you’re all the way across the street, you can see there’s just a tiny bit of hair peeking out from above his waistband.

He has his head down as he does almost the same exact thing you did- he shimmies the bin into position on the curb and makes sure it’s closed tight, left with some defense against the wind. His hair is in a low, messy bun, some stray strands of hair framing his face.

As you stare at him from the shadows across the street, realizing you’re probably giving off way weirder vibes than intended, you think back on when you’ve seen him and try to remember his face. As you think, there’s a silhouette of a cat in his front window, a warm glow behind it. And then the memory comes to you.

There was one afternoon when you had first moved in, the summer, seven or eight months ago. He came and knocked on your door, a pair of sunglasses on, his shirt unbuttoned and paired with some breezy linen pants. You answered the door in confusion, but were friendly regardless.

“Hi. I’m, uh, I’m Jake. I’m your neighbor. I live across the street?” He said, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

“Right, right. Hey. I’m Y/N.” You answered with a slightly concerned smile. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, um,” he started, wiping the corners of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger as he gathered his thoughts. You watched as he crossed his arms over his chest in almost a nervous habit.

“Do you wanna come in?” You offered, but he shook his head no, waving you off casually.

“No, no. I actually just have a weird and maybe cumbersome favor to ask of you.” He said, his confidence building as the conversation went on. You raised your eyebrows, a little confused, but wordlessly encouraging him to go on.

“There’s this cat that lives in my house and I usually leave him with my brother’s girl when I travel, but she’s actually tagging along, so I’m kind of in a pinch and need someone to feed the thing.” He said. You gave him a look of playful confusion.

“That’s a weird way to say you have a cat.” You quipped, laughing.

“I’m not keeping it! I just don’t want it to get hungry or get hit by a car or something.” He said, laughing through his words. Before you can poke any more fun at him, he keeps talking.

“He’s a grazer, so he really just needs his big ass bowl refilled once a day and he’ll be fine,” he said, flashing you a little smile. “And water.”

You considered it for a moment, but he had such a way about him that there was no way you would be able to say no.

“Okay. Yeah, sure. For how long?” You asked, leaning on the door frame. He fished out a key from his pocket, handing it over as he spoke. It was brass and there was a little soccer ball keychain attached.

“Just for the weekend. I’ll be back Sunday night.” He said with a little excitement in his voice. Holding his spare key in your hand, you nodded and gave him a polite smile.

“I can do that. For sure.” You reassured him as he leaned from foot to foot, almost like he had somewhere to be.

“I fed him just now and I’m about to head out, but when you go in, the kitchen is on the left and his bowl is there. The food is in the bin with… with the food. It’s clear so… you can see it.” He said, taking a few steps backwards. “He also bites, but he’ll probably hide from you anyway, so don’t sweat it!” He added, jogging down the two stairs to the sidewalk.

“O-okay!” You answered, perplexed but charmed. He shouted across the road to thank you before he hopped into his car and backed out of his driveway.

When you eventually went over to his house the next day, you opened the door cautiously, not wanting to sneak up on the cat who you were warned would bite you. After a moment of wondering why you agreed to this, you shrugged and pushed the door open gently. As if the cat was waiting for Jake himself but then realized it was you, he went flying by so quickly you only heard the thump of his paws and the jingle of his collar. Your eyes almost immediately found the big bowl in the kitchen, sitting in the middle of a little placemat. ‘DAVY’ was etched into the porcelain, so you figured it had to be his. Like Jake mentioned, there was the bin of food about a foot away.

You didn’t see the cat a single time that weekend. Sunday morning, after you fed him the last time, you left the key on the hook near Jake’s front door and locked it from the inside. You didn’t hear from him, but one day when you got home from work, there was a bottle of wine on your welcome mat with a card underneath, wax sealed with care. Inside, you found a card with a short note of thanks and his name signed in indigo ink.

You’re pulled back to the present as a car flies down your street, headlights flashing in your peripherals. The light pulls his attention too, and it’s seconds before he notices you across the street. He raises one open hand, giving you a casual wave. You smile and wave your hand back and forth, a polite, neighborly greeting.

“Look at you, all dressed up. Big plans tonight?” He says, projecting his voice all the way across the street. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, realizing he’s absolutely calling you out for being outside in your pajamas.

“Oh! Ha. Yeah.” you say, the laugh incredibly forced, your nerves turning you into an awkward, stiff mess. Freezing cold, nervous, and a little embarrassed, you give him another quick wave and scurry inside your house, disappearing. You close the door and snatch the bottle of wine from your fridge, taking the bottle and glass with you into the living room.

You practically dive under the blanket on your sofa and wrap it around you in a hurry. As you reach for the bottle of wine and pour yourself a little glass, you hear your phone buzz from somewhere in the couch cushions. Fishing it out from under your thigh and some layers of blanket, you squint and turn the brightness down immediately.

You have a few notifications from instagram and other apps, and one text from an unsaved number.

???

8:08pm: Sorry for being weird, lol

It has to be Jake. You hop up from the couch and shuffle to the bulletin board and dry-erase calendar on your freezer to see the torn piece of paper pinned to it. Comparing the two numbers, you confirm it’s the same. That leaves you frozen as you try to figure out how to respond.

You

8:10pm: Oh no worries, you were right. I’m clearly staying in tonight 🍷

When you get back to the couch, nuzzling yourself back under your blankets, you look over your shoulder and out the window at his house. There are a few lights on and the cat’s silhouette has disappeared from the window.

You decide to save his number quickly before finally taking a few sips of your wine.

Jake - Neighbor

8:13pm: Likewise. I’m about to take an edible and spend the rest of my romantic evening falling down a youtube wormhole.

Laughing, you think of something clever to send back. It takes a while because everything you come up with seems to be toeing the line of flirty and friendly.

You

8:17pm: Sounds fun... If you open your curtains a little more I could probably watch along. 🙂

Jake - Neighbor

8:20pm: Or you could accompany me down said wormhole, meaning we both won’t have to lie about being alone on Valentine’s day tomorrow?

You’re immediately conflicted. This guy is your neighbor, and although he seems friendly, this feels like the beginning of a terrible Hallmark movie or even worse, one that went straight to Netflix. You think about the invitation as you stare at your glass of wine on the coffee table next to your kindle. It couldn’t hurt to just go hang out for a little while… right? It would be good to get to know him. Maybe you could convince him to mow your lawn over the summer or something.

Not to mention he’s cute. Your mind flashes back to the way he looked glowing under the streetlights, his messy bun and the tan line on his hips that you need to stop thinking about before your mouth begins to water.

You

8:21pm: Lol are you serious? I don’t want to intrude

You bite at your lip nervously, waiting for him to reply. The little bubbles that indicate he’s typing make your stomach churn as you look over your shoulder and out the window once more. There’s a little bit of a glow coming from the other side of his house now and you see his shadow move across the window.

Jake - Neighbor

8:22pm: It’s not intruding if I’m inviting you.

It doesn’t take much convincing on his end, if any. You down the last of your wine for courage and ditch the blanket on the couch. Heading up the stairs, you grab the cardigan you left hanging over the banister and pick out something to wear. The matching jammies clearly aren’t appropriate, but you don’t want to dress like you’re trying too hard.

You

8:25pm: Should I bring anything?

Standing in your closet for a few minutes, you ultimately land on a pair of yoga pants and an old t-shirt, a soft baby blue Rush tee with the band’s name spelled out in big, rainbow bubble letters. It was once your dad’s, but lives in your wardrobe as a slightly cropped version now.

Jake - Neighbor

8:26pm: Nope. Just yourself. Need the address? 😉

Pulling on the cardigan, you tug the back of it down a little to assure you’re not showing up with your ass on display from the get-go. You stand at the door with nothing but your phone and keys, bracing yourself for however this Valentine’s night is about to go.

You

8:28pm: I think I remember how to get there. I’m on my way 🙂

—

You pull your sleeves down over your hands as you climb the steps to his porch, the freezing cold wind whipping through your cardigan as if it wasn’t even there. You rap your knuckles against the wooden door, a small wave of nerves rushing through your body as you wait for him to answer. You hear his footfall against the wooden floors as he makes his way to the door, and as he opens it you feel a rush of warmth as the heat from inside blows past you.

His eyes subconsciously look you over and as he realizes he pulls his eyes away, letting them dart around for a few seconds before landing on your face. He offers a shy grin and swallows down his nerve. “Any trouble finding the place?” he jokes, giving you a small glimpse of his real smile.

“Oh yeah, traffic was awful...” you quip back, watching his full smile bloom across his face.

“Come in, come in. I know it’s cold out there.” he says, ushering you inside. The house is very different from the last time you’d seen it. More art on the walls, a new rug or two, and most importantly there were lights on. A fire is going in the fireplace, the logs crackling drawing you into his home further.

“Your home is beautiful. I’m suddenly insanely jealous that I don't have a fireplace.” you smile, gesturing towards the beautiful brick hearth.

“Thanks, I try to do what I can here and there. What’s a home if you can’t enjoy the time you spend in it…” he ponders, suddenly flicking his attention back to you. “I could…show you around if you want, it’s kind of a mess at the moment…” he pauses, rubbing his fingers over his lips as his eyes scan the room. You can tell he is feeling put on the spot and your chest warms at his underlying hospitality.

“That’s okay, I know you were totally not planning on having a guest.” you laugh, hoping to ease his anxiety.

“Yeah, I’m not here too often, and when I am, things kind of get strewn around and forgotten. It’s actually a fluke that I’m here now. Which brings me back to the part about enjoying the house while I’m here.” he says, trying to unnecessarily justify his lived in space.

Your mind wanders as you recall his empty driveway the past few weeks, and you try to piece together if you ever remember him mentioning what he does for work, or why he’s gone so often. You hardly ever see him coming and going, just the glow from his windows on rare occasions.

He pulls you from your thoughts and you refocus on him, realizing that he too, has changed into different clothes. He’s added a slightly wrinkled black button down shirt to a pair of equally as wrinkled khaki pants, rolled at the ankle. To anyone else this would seem like a strange choice to hang out on the couch, but on him it seemed fitting, almost like these were his relaxing clothes.

“Can I get you anything to drink, or?” he asks, gesturing towards the kitchen, a tiny little sliver of his stomach peeking from beneath the frayed hem, showcasing an unseasonably dark tan.

“Sure, um I will take some water?” you squeak out, trying to pretend you weren’t just staring at his waist.

“Okay, you can just… sit wherever. I'll be right back.” he says nodding towards the couch. He walks off into the kitchen as you venture into his living room, the fireplace providing the perfect ambience for such a cold night. His couch isn’t huge, but it does seem comfortable. A few throw pillows are tossed to one side, giving you the hint that he was previously occupying the other side. You move a few of the pillows towards the center and position yourself at the opposite side on the chaise lounge, as you let your eyes glance around the room. The walls are dark and covered with art, and bookshelves line most of the walls. A large TV sits just to the left of the fireplace, the video he was previously watching paused and awaiting his return.

You relax into the couch cushions, closing your eyes and listening to the perfect crackling sound of the fireplace. The glass of wine from earlier is seeping into your bones and you’re suddenly feeling just a little bit more relaxed. Jake returns a few seconds later, offering you a glass filled to the brim with ice water.

“I didn’t know if you wanted ice or not, so I just made it how I like it.” he says, falling back into his place on the couch. He tosses a few of the throw pillows between you, down onto the ground so that there is less of a barrier, before kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.

“Where’s your little kitty cat?” you ask, turning to face him. “Or did you find him a home after all…”

“Who? Ol’ Davy Jones?” he asks, an air of underlying affection in his tone. “Ahh, that little vagrant is around here somewhere. Truthfully, I just haven’t even had time to think about finding him a home.”

You smile because you can tell he is lying. “That’s funny, because it’s been what? Almost a year now?”

“Has it… Hmmm.” he says, staring off into space. “I’m sure he’ll be around, he’s a curious little thing.”

“You know they say that you shouldn’t name pets that you don’t plan to keep…” you press, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Well…” he pauses. You can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to piece together an excuse. “He wasn’t responding to ‘hey you feline’, so I was practically forced into giving him a name. You know how these things go. I really am going to find him a good home one of these days when I have the time.”

You nod your head with a smile, as he shakes his own head, stifling back a guilty grin.

“So that is why he has a food bowl with his name on it, right?”

“Aye, aye, what’s with the twenty questions, hm?” he barks, tossing a throw pillow towards you. You catch it and hug it to your chest, resettling into your place.

“Oh, no reason. Just trying to get to know my neighbor and his cat, that’s all.” you say with a cheeky smile.

“He’s not my cat. He just lives in my house.” he says finally, feigning arrogance. “Anyways, tell me about you…”

“Not a whole lot to know, I just moved here, well almost a year ago now, for work. I go to work, come home, watch trashy TV and cook, and sometimes on the weekends I catch some friends at the bar. I also occasionally feed my neighbor's cat. Oh, and spend most holidays alone, which is how I ended up here.” you laugh, not wanting to give too much away.

“Well, I’m glad that you did, I’m rather enjoying having company for once. Listen, I was serious about the edible if you…” he trails off, nervously licking over his lips.

“Oh, yeah of course. Let’s do it.”

He stands from the couch, walking across the room and rummaging around in a backpack on the floor. The first thing he pulls out is an eyeglass case, tucking it under his arm. Then he reaches back in, searching for a moment more, before he pulls out a small black bag and returns to the couch, opening it up as he sits. He places the black glasses case on the table, then picks it up again, making sure there are actually glasses inside before closing it and putting it aside for later.

“Oh Jesus, Josh…” he mutters under his breath. He licks his lips and turns to look at you. “Okay, so, apparently they are peach ring gummies. My brother gave them to me, but didn’t specify the variety.”

“That’s actually fine, I love peach rings.” you blush.

“Really? Okay, good. I thought–” he stops himself with a smile. “Okay, ladies first, how much do you want?

“Um, how much are you gonna have?” you ask, letting your eyes flick up to his.

“Dunno…” he says, inspecting the bag for the details. “Okay, probably half. You think you can do half, or do you want a quarter?”

“I think it should be an even playing field, I’ll do half if you do half.” you answer.

“Whatever you say…” he says with a smile, trying to pull apart the sticky yellow and orange gummy. It stretches beyond belief and he stops. “Okay, so. I think you’re going to have to bite it.”

“Are you sure?” you ask hesitantly.

“Yeah, it’s no big deal, you just take half and I’ll take the rest.” he says, leaning over to place it in your hand. You bring it to your lips, biting half of the gummy with your eyes locked on him. He doesn’t dare blink as he watches your mouth, the sugar crystals collecting on your lips. You see him swallow as you pull it from your lips and hand the remainder back to him. He quickly pops it into his mouth and starts to chew.

Both of you look at each other as you swallow it down, sour looks on both of your faces as the flavor of the strain shines through.

“That was… not my favorite gummy I’ve ever had.” he winces, clearing his mouth of the flavor.

“I think it was okay…I’ve definitely had worse.” you laugh, taking a sip from your glass of water.

“I can’t believe I traded my good blunts for that.” he says, thinking back with a shake of his head. “So, what do you think we should watch? A movie? A TV show? Youtube?” he rattles off.

“What would you watch if I wasn’t sitting here right now?” you ask, leaning your body into the arm rest.

His demeanor quickly changes, his cheeks blushing and his tone growing a bit bashful. “If you weren’t here? Um, probably just youtube videos.” he answers, reaching for the remote on the coffee table.

“Okay, but what kind of youtube videos? What fascinates you…”

He fidgets with the buttons on the remote, trying to decide if he should lie or be honest. His eyes flick up to the TV, then over to you. “Mostly history stuff, like old shipwrecks and stuff. Or maybe sailing videos or guitar videos, I don’t know.”

You can tell he chose to be honest, his fingers still scratching at the buttons on the remote as he waits to see what you’re going to say.

“Okay so do it. Show me your favorite shipwreck. Enlighten me a little…”

“Really?” he asks, a look of shock painted across his face.

“Yeah, why not? I like that kind of stuff too. It’s interesting.”

“Yeah, yeah it is really interesting. Okay, hold on.” he grins, clicking the remote to life and returning to youtube. He scrolls to his favorites and makes his way through what has to be a hundred videos, until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Alright, I know this is a little bit boring at the beginning, but I swear it gets better. I actually learned about this first hand at this little museum in the UK last year, and I really fixated on it, and had to immediately consume every piece of media I could find about it. If you hate it we can turn it off, it’s just… really cool if you can make it through it.” he explains, and you smile watching his eyes light up talking about it.

You smile and nod as he clicks on the video titled, ‘Ghosts of the Mary Rose’. He settles back into the couch, balancing the remote on his knee, and slinging his arm across the back of the couch. You can’t help but notice the proximity of his fingertips as they rest just inches away from your shoulder. The fireplace is still roaring, and the edible is starting to kick in, and you come to terms with the fact there is no place you’d rather be than sitting here learning about this old boat.

Oddly enough, Jake wasn’t wrong. This was one of the cooler shipwrecks you’d learned about, and the fact that he saw it in person made it even better. He proceeded to talk through most of the video, further extrapolating on the points they were making, but explaining them better, in a way that was so purely Jake.

It was clear history was a passion of his, his eyes simply glowing with pride as he spoke about what he knew about this wreck and others similar. You could tell that he was dying for someone, just anyone, to ask him a single question about it, and tonight, you gave him that and more.

You wondered if he had people in his life that indulged him on this regularly, or if he kept it bottled up inside. The way he spoke about it so quickly, stumbling over his words just to get them out, had you thinking that maybe it was the latter, and you suddenly couldn’t bear the thought of him ever feeling lonely.

After what had to be an hour or so, the gummy had met its full potential in your bloodstream. The two of you sat almost mute, staring at the TV screen as he selected videos for you to dive into, but little did he know that it wasn’t the TV you were fixated on. It was the glaring image of his hands as they reflected into the mirror hanging over his fireplace. You watched as they moved, the way his fingers wielded the remote, and the way his fingers would twitch every so often, quickly stifled back by the folding of his hands. You stopped yourself from turning your head to look at them, knowing that if you did you wouldn’t be able to pull your eyes away.

They seemed large. Slightly larger than the average man’s hands, but they also seemed well manicured. Perfectly manicured actually, as if they were his top priority in his grooming habits. His nails were perfectly trimmed, no nicks or cuts, just perfectly tanned hands that tapped away against his thighs. You pulled your eyes away from the mirror to reach for your water, the dry mouth starting to take effect.

You drank down half of the glass, and you could almost feel his eyes on you as you did so. You placed the glass back down, and allowed yourself one look at him, finding that you were correct in the feeling of his eyes fixed on you. His entire mood had shifted, you could tell he was feeling completely relaxed as he lounged on his couch. His eyes were a little red, slightly droopier than usual, and his cheeks flushed pink. His legs were crossed on the coffee table, and his bare foot bobbed along to the sound of the video playing in the background.

You’re not sure if it's the fireplace, the edible, or the man sitting next to you devouring you with his eyes, but you start to feel warm and need to remove your sweater before you burst into flames. You pull the knitted fabric over your arms, and toss it to the floor, leaving you in just your cut off tee, and you swear you see his eyes widen a bit as he takes in the sight of your torso.

In the silence, you hear a faint jingling. He doesn’t seem to notice, but you do, and your eyes shoot to the entryway. His cat trots into the room, probably only expecting Jake, but as soon as he lays eyes on you, he puffs up and hops straight up into the air, then bolts back the way he came, his paws skittering across the floor in a flurry.

The sound makes Jake’s head turn, pulling his eyes from your body and over towards the source of the noise.

“Oh my god, he’s real…” You say in amazement, a smile creeping onto your lips. Jake rolls his eyes at the cat’s dramatics, leaning back to see if he can catch where he went.

“Daaaavvvyyyy…” he calls out in a faux-cockney accent, his voice low and gravelly, rumbling through the house. You would be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t make your stomach flip.

“He’s not a fan of me, I don’t think.” You comment, looking in the direction the tiny black cat ran.

“Don’t think he likes anyone but me, honestly. Bites and scratches the absolute hell out of my brother’s girlfriend whenever she watches him for me.” He says with a chuckle, craning his neck to try and see the cat. He makes a quiet pspspsps sound, but Davy is nowhere to be seen or heard.

“When I found ‘em, he was under a dumpster behind a… a bar.” He says, sitting back up to look at you. “He was practically shouting at me as I walked by, like he was calling for help. So I walked over thinking it was like, a fuckin’ baby or something. I don’t know.”

You grin as he tells the story, which you’re finding quite endearing.

“He called you over? Oh, he’s bold.”

“Sure is. So I wrapped him up in my shirt and put him in the passenger seat… he seemed too little to eat the crunchy little cat food, so I went to the store and got some milk… I didn’t fuckin’ know what to do.” He chuckles and itches his nose, his eyes flicking to yours as he realizes you’re invested in the story and listening with bated breath.

“We got home and he drank some… had a little milk mustache and everything. He seemed to feel better when I got him into the heat, so I made him a deal. He could sleep in the bathroom for the night if he hit the road and left town the next morning.”

“I see that worked out.” You quip, giving him a knowing smile.

“Yeah, the five-pound rapscallion didn’t hold up his end. Owes me a thousand souls now.”

You hum with raised brows as you nod, letting him go on.

“I actually…” he starts, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket he taps and scrolls as he talks. “I actually woke up the next morning and caught the poor thing asleep in a pair of me old dirty trousers.” He says, a little bit of that accent slipping in again. He turns his phone around and shows you a photo of Davy curled into a tiny ball inside a pair of patchwork denim pants, a few different shades of blue.

“Oh my god…” you mumble, popping out your bottom lip.

“Lookit his tail over his nose. How was I supposed to show ‘em the door?” He says, flashing you a grin.

“But you’re still gonna rehome him, huh?” You shoot in his direction, your tone accusatory.

“Should we watch something else? Got any requests?” he asks, gesturing toward the TV with the remote.

“Mmm, you said you liked guitar videos, right? What’s your favorite guitar video of all time?” you ask, crossing your ankles as you stretch out on the chaise.

“That is quite the loaded question, lass.” he quips, tapping the remote to his lips. His full, pink, totally kissable lips. Wait, he’s your neighbor. You have to stop.

“Can you narrow it down to a genre?” he asks, flicking his eyes over to you. He takes a deep breath and bites his lips together waiting for your answer.

“How about…I don’t know, rock? Rock n’ Roll, specifically.” you smirk.

“I know a thing or two.” he chuckles, scrolling through his favorites.

“Ahh, okay this one. This one right here. This man was instrumental in my–” he stops, clearing his throat. “He is one of the greatest musicians I’ve ever witnessed.” he finishes.

“Oh, who is it?” you ask, watching him select the video.

“Pete Townshend.” he answers, starting the video. “He is an incredible guitarist, but that isn’t what makes him great in my opinion. He has this special ability to write insanely powerful rock songs where the guitar isn’t the main focus, or even the main instrument. His work with The Who is just… He isn’t flashy just for the show of it, because he didn’t have to be. His skill speaks for itself and that in itself is an accomplishment.”

“Wow, you know a lot about him. Would you say he is your favorite, then?” you ask.

“Ahh, I don’t know. I have a lot of favorites. A lot of influences I suppose. Lots of people who shaped me.” he answers, and slowly but surely you start to realize he is letting you know him more and more with each passing second, and you’re hanging on his every word.

“Shaped you?” you ask, trying to squeeze yourself through the tiny crack in his armor.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom. You need anything while I’m up?” he says, standing up slowly and effectively shutting you out. His half smile is a little guilty, which tells you he’s well aware of what he just did.

“I’m okay.” You answer, giving him a knowing smile as he shuffles out of the room, the sound of his bare feet on the hardwood the only sound under the music playing quietly from the tv.

It’s a minute or two before he gets back and this time when he comes to sit on the couch, he lays across the cushions on his stomach, grabbing the pillow to your left and tucking it between his arm and his head. He’s so, so close to you now, the smell of his shampoo making its way over to you when he nuzzles his head against the pillow. Once he’s completely comfortable, he takes a deep breath and then speaks softly.

“I’m a musician. So. When I said ‘shaped me,’ I meant it almost literally.” His voice sounds a little different when his cheek is smushed into the throw pillow.

“So I’m guessing you play guitar?” you say, blinking up at the TV as the man on the screen’s fingers crawl across the frets.

“I do.” He says it simply, but not in a way that’s short. You look down at his right hand, bent at the elbow and holding on to the pillow. At this distance, you can see there’s a little indent around his middle finger, like he wears a ring of some sort.

“I don’t really have any… creative talents. So I think that’s really impressive.” Your words are quiet and you’re trying to coax him back out of his shell. He lifts his head from the pillow, and when he’s looking up at you from below, his glassy brown eyes are enough to make your heart melt. You have to blink a few times through the brain fog to really focus on them, and when you do, your pulse quickens.

“I’m sure that’s not true. What do you do?” He asks softly, and luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re staring at him.

“It’s very true. I’m an accountant.” You answer, laugh bubbling out of you at the absurdity of it all. “Literally the opposite of creative.”

He breaks into a grin, laughing with you for a second or two, and you think it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard.

“...Alright. You got me there. We can watch something else…” He says, looking for the remote, and you mourn the loss of eye contact.

“No, no! I wanted you to pick something you’d watch even if I wasn’t here, and you did. Plus, I kinda like your commentary. This stuff is all new to me.” You say, and he chuckles softly. He rests his head on the pillow again, his arm grazing yours unintentionally. He pays it no mind.

“If you say so.”

After another two videos accompanied by Jake’s narration, you find yourself so hungry, you think you might be withering away. When there’s a lull in his commentary, you whisper into the dim room from behind him.

“Is it normal to feel like I need a snack so urgently I might pass away?”

He stretches a little, rolling over to look at you again. You give him a slow smile, your eyes squinting as your cheeks push them closed.

“I can go see what I have… It’s been a minute since I’ve been home but there’s probably–”

“No!” You interject, sitting up a little more. He jumps at the motion, a little startled. “I have this tray of chocolate covered strawberries in my fridge! My coworker called in today, and her boyfriend sent her like two dozen of them, so obviously I brought them home.”

“Oh hell yeah.” He answers, smiling back at you.

“I’ll be right back!” You say excitedly, hopping off the couch and swiping your keys off the table. You quickly slip on your shoes and head for the front door, darting out into the cold night.

It’s not long before you’re kicking the refrigerator door shut and sneaking back out into the windy February air. As you cross the street you see his door open, and once you’re close enough, you duck inside. He takes the box from you right away as he shuts the door.

After putting it down on the table near his front door, he reaches for your bare arms, rubbing them to warm you up. He laughs softly as you smile up at him.

“You didn’t bring your sweater, you absolute maniac…” he chides playfully, and you laugh in response, a chill running up your spine. His hands are so warm and his presence so comforting that you find yourself resisting the urge to wrap yourself up in him.

“I didn’t think it would be that cold.” you mumble, trying to keep your teeth from chattering.

“Oh, you thought the cold snap had just let up suddenly?” he asks with a sarcastic inflection, and you roll your eyes with a smile as he lets go of your arms. “Figured it was probably a cozy 27 degrees instead of 22?”

You pick the strawberries back up and walk past him, back toward the living room to take your seat again. Before you can offer him a snarky retort, he’s quickly heading up the stairs of his old house, taking them two at a time as they creak and crack. Footsteps sound from above you, moving in one direction and then the other, before he’s coming back down slower than he had ascended. When he appears in the entryway of the living room, he’s holding the biggest, plushest navy blue down comforter you’ve ever seen in both of his arms. He’s peeking over and around it as he navigates behind the coffee table, careful not to trip or bump into something.

“What’s all this?” You ask, laughing at the sight before you as you sit criss-crossed on the chaise, the container of strawberries still sitting in your lap, uneaten.

“The comforter from my bed, obviously.” He answers, snatching the berries from you once more and putting them on the coffee table. You groan, but it’s short lived, as he drops the entire giant comforter overtop of you. He arranges it to wrap you inside of it, letting your head peek out. He tucks it under your thighs and tugs it closed across your chest.

“Thank you,” you mumble through a tight-lipped smile, finding him a little ridiculous, but also thoughtful and sweet. He plops down next to you, sitting similarly to you with his legs crossed, the box of strawberries between you. He opens them and offers you one by the stem, which you graciously accept.

You take a bite, quickly moving your hand under your chin to catch any of the chocolate cracking and falling. You moan a little at the taste, smiling at him when his eyes cut to yours.

He takes a bite of his own, his approach for avoiding a mess a little different than yours. His bite is so big that it takes him a while to chew through it, eventually speaking with some still in his mouth.

“I don’t know who the fuck decided these are supposed to be a romantic food.” He has a little bit of chocolate in his mustache and you can’t help but giggle, his tongue quickly darting out to lick it. “I’ve never had a more difficult time eating anything in my goddamn life.” He says, a hearty laugh rumbling through his chest.

You’re so far under the influence and feeling so content from finally getting your hands on the sweets you were craving, all you can do is giggle in response. It’s the kind of giggle that lingers, when the joke is probably forgotten. He’s watching you with one raised brow as you cover your mouth and try to stop it.

He eventually joins you, unable to resist the contagious, almost delusional snickering coming from you under the giant blanket across from him. It’s a sweet, silly moment, and it feels effortless. You spend the next few minutes chewing and laughing and stealing glances at him in secret. The edible has you at a point where you’re not sure if you’re speaking out loud or thinking the words in your head. So then, the question you’re considering asking him just slips out.

“Why are you so tan in February?” You laugh, realizing it was a little forward of you to just ask out of nowhere. Luckily, you’re met with a stoned giggle of his own before he swallows and answers.

“I… went to a music festival in South America last week.” He says, eyes flicking up to yours, almost like he’s trying to see if you believe him.

“See anyone good?” You pry, your cheeks a little flushed the more you stare at him and catalog his mannerisms.

“Nobody you’d know.” He says, and you take him at his word. He smiles reassuringly, even though you don’t believe him, and it makes you giggle some more.

Eventually, it settles down and it’s just occasional quiet laughs cutting through the quiet of the room. He reaches for another strawberry and you realize it’s a little too quiet. You turn your head towards the tv, the last video having ended, and the countdown to the next one descending from 15. You squint your eyes a little to see what’s about to play next.

Rig Rundown: Greta Van Fleet [2021] is the title. But what really throws you is the thumbnail. The image is an older guy with coiffed silver hair, smiling and pointing at… Jake? He’s got a smug smile on his face, an arm on this other guy’s shoulder, and his hair down, which you think you’ve seen only once. He’s in a navy blue blazer with a hand on his hip, a guitar hanging across the front of his body.

“...Is that you?”

10…9…8…

“Huh?” Jake says as he looks up at you from the box of strawberries, his mouth full, a stem pinched between his two fingers. He sees where you’re looking and follows your gaze towards the TV as it counts down.

7…6…5…

“Oh, fuck–”

You quickly grab the remote control from the end of the coffee table, trying to find the OK button so it will start playing sooner. Jake panics, tossing the carton of berries onto the table with reckless abandon. He lunges towards you, so you hide the remote inside the comforter along with as much of yourself as you can.

“No!” He shouts playfully, grabbing at the blanket and trying to unravel you. He kneels on the edge of the chaise, knocking you over and trying to get to your hands and arms under the layers and layers of soft, fluffy blankets.

“You have… to let… me watch it!” You argue with a laugh, avoiding his grasp. You finally decide to raise the remote all the way over your head, almost over the edge of the couch. He leans forward over top of you, his weight balanced on his palm next to your head.

“Hand it over.” He says, attempting to be stern, but there’s a smile pulling at his lips. A little jingle begins to play, and you can’t see the screen, but you’re positive the video is starting. You adjust the remote in your hand and crank the volume as he stares down at you. His eyes linger on your lips, then your eyes, then your lips again. His stare is only broken when he realizes it’s getting louder. A riff starts to fill the room, a song you can’t say you’ve ever heard before, and he huffs, reaching for the remote again.

You’re a little distracted watching him on the screen over his shoulder, his long hair and unbuttoned shirt and the way his hands look wrapped around the neck of the guitar. He snatches the remote from you with an extra stretch of his arm and you giggle softly. “Oh my god…”

“Hey, hey! I’m John from Premier Guitar, and I’m here with Jake Kiszka from–”

Jake pauses the video, falling back into his seat on the couch. His head lolls to the side and he looks at you with a playful, annoyed glare.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why the hell are you doing guitar interviews?”

“I told you I’m a musician.” He says, a little short, lifting the remote to exit the video.

“No, no, wait!” You plead, reaching for his forearm to lower it. “Just let me watch, like, a minute.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “If you don't, I'll just go home and watch it anyway.”

He groans, mumbling a barely there “fine,” begrudgingly before pressing play and letting the guy continue.

“Greta Van Fleet! Jake, congratulations! Since I last saw you, you won a grammy! Or two grammys?”

“Yeah, one…”

“You have a fucking GRAMMY?” You exclaim as the video continues to play. You turn and look at him, but his eyes are on the screen, squinting with what you can tell is embarrassment.

“Are you gonna talk through your allotted one minute of watching or what?” He says, giving you a little warning look. You grin, turning your attention back to the screen. As the guy goes on and on, you realize this isn’t the part you want to watch.

“Can we skip past this guy? He talks a lot. This is not how I want to use my minute.” You bargain, and he just offers you the remote silently with a smirk.

You fast forward a little until you see he’s about to play. It’s a few seconds of him playing something else you’ve never heard, and then he speaks.

“It’s hotter, it’s a bit hotter…”

You smirk with wide eyes, looking at him in your peripherals.

“Shut up.” He says, closing his eyes like he simply can’t watch any more. You laugh at his dramatics, and when he hears it he can’t help but crack a smile. His cheeks are rosy and you look back at the screen, eyes trying to decide on what part of him to land on.

“This guy…” You start, shaking your head a little.

“He’s a bit much.” Jake says, looking over at you with a half smile.

“He’s so sweaty!” You add, laughing through your words.

He lets you watch for more than a minute. He makes a few comments, scoffing at himself, even running his hand over his face a few times. You can tell it’s a little painful for him, but you’re in your glory. You reach for another strawberry as you look over at his embarrassed face.

“So this is why you’re never here…” you say, turning the volume down a little. “And the music festival…”

“Yep. That would be the reason.” He says softly, sniffing a little as he watches. You turn to look at him and his eyes flick up to yours, his gaze traveling straight to your lips. There's a flicker in his eyes, and you hardly comprehend that his hand is moving towards your face. You feel his thumb swipe softly against your bottom lip, a tiny smear of chocolate on the tip of his digit. Your tongue immediately licks over the place his thumb was, tasting the sugary sweetness of the chocolate that was once there. He places his thumb between his lips, licking the chocolate from his own finger, while his eyes stay locked on yours.

“Somehow, it’s even sweeter.” he breathes letting his hand drop from his lips. He settles back into the couch cushions resting his head on his hand as he looks at you. You can hardly pull your eyes away from his as your heart races in your chest, the video in the background long forgotten.

“Tell me why you’re alone on Valentine’s day…” he murmurs, his pink lips barely parting to let the words escape.

“You tell me why you are…” you counter, blinking slowly as you stare at him.

He bites his lips together as he tosses around the words in his head. He clicks his tongue against his teeth as he starts to speak. “Well, to be honest… I’ve had trouble finding someone that can live with the burden of my lifestyle. It’s a lot to ask of someone. ”

“Burden?” you ask.

“Yeah, that’s the word that always gets thrown around when things go south. And they’re not wrong I suppose. I know that I’m gone more than I’m home. Even you know that.” He says with a humorless chuckle. “Half the time I don’t know the next time that I’ll be home and get to sleep in my own bed. So naturally that sort of…uncertainty doesn’t lend well to relationships. Of any kind really…” he pauses, letting out a sigh. “It’s hard to find, let alone keep, any type of meaningful connection… Especially when I’m halfway around the world. But I swear it’s not for lack of trying on my end. It’s just one of those things that comes with the job whether you want it or not.”

You nod your head slowly, feeling your heart breaking for him. If you weren’t sure before, you are positive now that he is just a little more lonely than he is willing to let on.

“I wasn’t even supposed to be here now. We’re supposed to be traveling to New York right now. Though, everything happens for a reason I guess.” he says, offering you a little smirk as he brushes his hand over top of yours. “Now, your turn. Tell me why such an intriguing woman is all alone on the most romantic day of the year…”

You pull the fluffy blanket up a little further onto your lap, toying with the hem as you look up at him. “I haven’t really dated anyone since I moved here. I thought I would but, I just…haven’t. I thought that once I was settled into a good routine at work I could spend a little more time meeting people, but every time I go out I’m suddenly surrounded by twenty other girls who are by modern standards perfect, and I just don’t even stand a chance against them, you know?” you pause, letting your fingers roll over the stitching on the edge of the duvet. “I don’t look like them, and I never will. So I just work a lot, hang out with my friends when I can, and have zero expectations of ever being the person that is going to stand out in a crowd like that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you wait for his response, suddenly feeling stupid for telling this stranger your secrets.

“You couldn't be more wrong.” he breathes, letting his arm fall against the back of the couch. There’s an air of demand in his voice as he speaks. His hand swipes the hair away from your face, letting his fingers brush your jawline. “You’re prettier than all of them. And smarter, and funnier. They have nothing on you. I’d pick you…In a crowd.”

“You don’t have to just say that to try and make me feel better. It’s okay, really.” you say dismissively.

“I’m not just saying that, Y/N. I mean it. You’re so pretty, and you’re so quick witted, and you listen to me talk about stuff no one else cares about...Shit, I can’t think of one person I know that would have sat through even the first video, let alone let me talk through the entire thing. I’m having one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time, with you.” he urges, settling his hand loosely on the curve of your neck. His skin is warm against yours, and you can smell the remnants of the cologne he likely sprayed on his wrist this morning as it wafts towards your nose.

You laugh softly, suddenly feeling shy as he compliments you. You lean into him without even noticing, your eyes closing as you breathe him in. The cushion dips as he leans towards you, meeting you where you were and pressing his lips to yours almost tentatively. His fingers grip into your neck as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip. If the gummy didn’t already have you feeling floaty, you were sure you’d be feeling it now. He pulls away from you and a small whimper leaves your mouth at the loss of his warmth. His hand slides down your neck and over your shoulder, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him. With his other hand, he picks up the remote and hits pause, not wanting the video to carry on in the background of what you think is about to be another kiss.

“C’mere…” he growls, holding a hand out to you. You tuck your feet underneath yourself in an attempt to push up onto your knees, feeling slightly off-kilter. You grip his hand a little tighter as you reach for his shoulder, moving slowly until you’re straddling his lap. He positions your legs on either side of him, making sure you’re comfortable, and taking the opportunity to run his hands over your thighs. You rest your hands on his chest for some stability, your head in the clouds. His hands immediately find their way back to your face, cupping your cheeks as he pulls you in and kisses you again,though this time there is a little more urgency behind it. You slide your hands up and over his shoulders, letting your fingers weave into his hair, grabbing a handful of the chestnut locks and gripping it in your fists. He tilts his head back slightly in response.

“Oh, fuck.” he groans. He looks at you with his head tilted back, his lids heavy, a barely-there crooked smile on his face. He’s such a sight with his dark eyes and pink lips, you think you might burst on the spot. You know you need to kiss him again, but you also want to hear him moan and curse again, and his exposed throat is calling to you.

Leaning down, you place a kiss to his jaw, the skin soft and warm. You feel like you’re in the passenger seat as someone else, a bolder and less inhibited version of yourself, calls the shots. One minute, you’re thinking about how the textured skin of his throat feels against your cheek, then then the next, you’re kissing and licking at it without a second thought. You feel his skin buzz under your lips as he whines, the taste of his skin and cologne mixed together so good you’re certain you’ll never be able to forget it.

You feel yourself melting into him, your tongue pulling the delicate skin over his clavicle into your mouth as you suck and bite softly without any consideration for the fact that he probably shouldn’t be covered in love bites. When you lift your head, he’s got his own resting on the back of the couch, his eyes closed, his brows knitted together as you shower him in searing kisses.

Sitting up, you lean over him again for another kiss, this time taking it upon yourself to deepen it, grazing your teeth over his bottom lip as you lace your hands in his hair again, taking a bit of control. You feel him shudder beneath you, his hips bucking up in response. His tongue slides into your mouth and you can taste the lingering flavor of the tequila he was no doubt drinking prior to your arrival mixed with a hint of chocolate. His hands travel down your body, sliding underneath the hem of your shirt. He stops as his hands wrap around your waist, his thumbs swiping over your skin. You lean into his grip, feeling him pull you down onto his groin as his teeth nip at your lips now.

You know that both of you are still feeling the effects of the gummy and there isn’t a shred of inhibition between the two of you. You release your grip on his hair and let your hands trail down the open buttons of his shirt, feeling the chest you’ve stared at all night beneath your fingertips. You slide them further down, letting your fingers toy with the remaining buttons, waiting to see if he will stop you, but when he doesn’t, you finish the job and push his shirt open completely. A silver necklace rests between his pecs, and you smile recognizing the coin as one of the artifacts you saw in one of the videos from earlier in the night.

His mouth is like velvet on yours and you can’t help but to want more of him. You roll your hips against him, feeling him growing beneath you and spurring you on even more. Another groan leaves his mouth, his lips vibrating on yours. His hands move up a little further, his thumbs just dusting the underside of your bralette. You can tell he’s doing his best to be respectful, but you simply cannot wait another second to feel his hands on your body.

You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, tossing it to the side. He swallows thickly as his eyes roam over you, his lips parting as he looks you over. His mind is struggling to keep up with the pace things are moving. He hums in approval as he runs a calloused fingertip over your navel, which pulls a lazy smile from you. Jake chuckles in response, now moving his hands to rest at your shoulders before pulling you down closer to him so he can press a wet kiss to your collarbone. His lips trail down your skin until they reach the fullness of your chest, and with his eyes now locked on yours, he sucks a hot, audible kiss into the rounded skin.

Your eyes flutter closed as his tongue swipes against your skin, simultaneously feeling his fingers pull the bralette straps down over your shoulders. With the extra support gone the cups fall slightly, revealing a little more of your chest to him. You grab his hands and pull them to your chest, giving him the green light to take things a little further.

“God, you’re stunning.” he mumbles breathlessly, gripping into your tits as you roll your hips against him. You lean forward to press your lips to his again, licking into his mouth as his hands move to circle around your back, resting just at the base of your back. He presses you closer as you roll into him again, this time feeling his fully hard cock pressed against your core. He hooks a finger into one side of your bralette, freeing your nipple. He leans forward and takes into his mouth, sucking softly. You groan at the feeling, a breath of air leaving his mouth as you drag across the length of him. He pulls you closer, dragging his tongue over the sensitive bud as mewls fall from your lips. You usually aren’t as affected by something so routine in foreplay, but all of your senses are heightened and you think you could probably cum from the feeling of his mouth spoiling you with kisses and bites combined with how hard he is between your thighs.

He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, still glassy and blown out. “I promise this isn’t what I intended when I invited you over...” he breathes, his thumbs swiping against your back as he licks his lips, his blinks slow and lazy.

“I know…” you answer with a bashful smile and lidded eyes, staring into his brown irises. “But it feels too good to stop.”

“Yeah,” he says, more of a breath than a word. “I want you so fucking bad right now.” he adds, a smirk pulling across his lips as he makes the move to roll you to your back on the chaise of the couch. You're giggling as he’s now hovering over you, similarly to how he was earlier, only this time you know he’s going to kiss you and you don’t have to wish for it. He makes quick work of his shirt, pulling his arms from the sleeves and tossing it to the other side of the room. Your head is positively spinning, the room around you seems like a blur and the only thing in focus is him.

He runs a finger over your chest, hooking into the fabric of your bralette. “Take this off for me, sweetheart. Show me.” he mumbles, his lazy eyes slowly raking over every inch of you, needing more.

You practically burst into flames, rushing to pull the fabric over your head. Now completely exposed to him, his eyes flick down to your chest as he bites his lips together. He pulls back again, unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down for some relief. He swallows harshly, letting his eyes meet yours again. You reach your hand up and hook it around his neck, pulling his face down to yours. You press your lips to his and he lowers himself down to his elbows, deepening the kiss as his body lays on top of yours.

You let your free hand circle around his back, your fingers following the contours of his waist, dipping down to his spine as you run the length of his back. He groans at the feeling of your nails against his skin, and you find yourself wondering if he’s usually this vocal or if the high he’s experiencing has lowered his guard.

He shoots up, turning his head around to look at the TV, muttering something under his breath as he grabs the remote from the other side of the couch. He exits the video and you giggle, realizing it was paused on a still of his brother, you assume, in the middle of talking with his hands, sitting behind a keyboard. He tosses the remote to the coffee table, leaning back down over you with a smirk. “Sorry. I just think three’s a crowd.” he smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips.

He pulls away from your lips leaving a trail of kisses down your throat, and over your sternum, stopping just shy of the top of your yoga pants. His eyes flick up to yours, and you offer him a shy nod, silently thanking yourself for that “everything” shower this morning.

He kisses your stomach one more time before curling his fingers beneath the hem, sliding them slowly over your hips and down your legs before letting them fall softly to the floor. You lay there in just your panties, and you think he may notice that you’re feeling exposed as he quickly stands to kick off his pants. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the heavy outline of his dick, visible and straining against the black fabric of his boxers.

His eyes flick to yours but you can’t seem to take your eyes off of the tan line just above the elastic of his boxers, wanting more than anything to peel the black fabric from his hips. He kneels onto the chaise, settling himself between your legs and caging you between his arms. A few strands of his hair hang around his face, and his dark brown eyes are growing darker by the second. You bring your hand up to his stomach, letting your fingers sneak beneath the elastic of his boxers, sliding across the front of his waist causing him to clench up his stomach with a smile.

“You ticklish?” you murmur, continuing to slide your fingers across his waistband.

He drops his head to look at your hand in his boxers before looking back up at you with a smirk. “Not ticklish, just…sensitive…” he growls. You can tell that the gummy has made him a little more responsive to touch than he normally is.

His hips jolt forward on their own accord and you feel the brush of his dick against your fingers. He sucks in a harsh breath at the contact, his eyes connecting with yours. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you push your hand further inside, wrapping softly around his hardened length. A hiss leaves his mouth and he starts to breathe a little heavier as you squeeze around him. You slide your hand up and around the tip, rounding off at the end before sliding back down, watching his eyes flutter closed for the slightest second.

“Fuck, wait…” he breathes, pulling back and taking a second to compose himself. He sits up a little more, hooking his fingers into your thong and pulling it swiftly down your legs. His eyes flick up towards the couch then back down the length of the chaise, “Move down a little for me, baby. Rest your feet on the floor. ”

You quickly push yourself further down on the couch, letting your knees hang over the edge of the chaise until your feet meet the rug on the floor. He drops to his knees at the end of the chaise, running his warm hands up the length of your thighs. He kisses the inside of your thigh, humming in appreciation for the position he’d found himself in.

He rests both of his hands on your hips, and as you look down at him, you see a faint silver scar up the length of his left arm. You wrap your hand around his forearm, feeling his veins pulsing against your palm.

His eyes meet yours as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds, hot and slow as you throw your head back into the couch cushion. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers pressing firmly into your skin pulling you closer as his lips suction over your clit. His tongue swipes against you again, flatter and with more pressure as you writhe beneath him.

“Fuck…” he curses, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine. “Had I known what I was missing…” he pauses to lick at you again. “I would have pulled you across the street months ago. You taste like heaven.”

You feel as if you’re floating on a cloud as you melt into his comforter, the warmth from the fireplace radiating across the room. A soft gasp falls from your lips as he laps at you, no urgency or strategy behind his method. He seems to just be enjoying himself, his eyes lifting to look at you, a little lazy, a little glassy. You shift underneath him slightly, but he’s not deterred. His mouth doesn’t leave you for even a moment, like you’re his only source of vitality in this very moment.

You whine when you feel his tongue press to your entrance, and you feel the smile that pulls across his lips. Your hips buck up towards him, his nose brushing over your clit, sending you quickly towards a place you’re not quite ready to be yet. His tongue finds you again, pressing forward this time and entering just for a second before pulling back out. His lips suction over you again, and he shakes his head side to side, taking you to that place whether you’re ready or not.

“Jake…” you whine, sliding your hands into his hair.

“Mmm?” he hums into you, his eyes slowly opening to find yours, heavy with lust.

“More…” you beg, shuddering the slightest bit as you see how dark his eyes have become.

He gives you one more slow, long lap of his tongue, like he’s savoring it and committing the taste of you to memory. He stands from where he was kneeling and taps your thigh gently, wordlessly telling you to shift back up on the chaise. You scoot backwards and he follows, nestling himself between your legs, propped up on his palm. With the hand he isn’t using for balance, he frees himself from his briefs. He strokes himself once, but then lets himself go and you feel him against you, his cock heavy and hard, landing on the inside of your thigh with the softest sound. He pulls back slightly and when he pushes his hips forward again, he’s sliding through your folds, slick and lewd. It makes your cheeks hot.

“You’re so fucking wet…” he grunts, his voice strained like he’s in pain. “Just wanna feel you for a second…”

He lowers himself to bury his face in your hair, his breath hot as he pants, gently rutting his hips against you, his thrusts a little uncoordinated and desperate.

“Everything’s just so fucking sensitive.” he says, his now boyish voice cracking as it’s muffled by the pillow behind your head. He wraps his arms tightly around you and under you, like he’s worried you’re about to float away. “Feels so good.”

With a deep breath he releases you, sliding his hand down to fist his base. As he presses the tip to your entrance his eyes lock on yours, wordlessly asking if you’re ready, and when you nod he starts to press forward. His eyes flick down to your center, watching as he slides into you. The stretch is noticeable, but you welcome it. You want it. His eyes flutter closed for just a second and you feel him stop his movement, not pressing into you fully.

“Fuck, give me a second.” he pants, his chest heaving.

You feel him try to slide in a little more, but again he’s holding back.

“I think– I think you’re gonna have to take the reins here.” he admits.

“What do you mean…”

“If I move a single inch more I won’t–” he pauses, shaking his head as he blows out a breath. “I just need you to be on top.”

His eyes are pleading, searching yours, and you can’t possibly fathom the idea of ever denying him.

“I’ll make it worth your while.” he offers, and you can’t help but give him a little smirk, nodding. He withdraws and gives you a little space to get up, ditching his underwear before taking your place. You gingerly climb over him, taking a moment to brush one of the strands of hair that frames his face out of the way. He gives you a soft, lazy smile, his eyes barely open as he welcomes your gentle touch.

His hand reaches between the two of you as he lines himself up, and you waste no time lowering yourself onto him, savoring how full he makes you feel. Intending to fly right out of the gates you lift your hips again, but he slowly settles you down, a soft hum rumbling through him.

“That’s it. Yeah… Lean back for me?” he coaches, and you do as he asks without a second thought. His warm hand brushes down your abdomen until his thumb makes contact with your clit to rub gentle circles while his lidded eyes are open just a sliver to stare intently at where your bodies are meeting. His pink lips are parted slightly, his breathing shallow. You can’t help the wanton moan that escapes your throat at the sight paired with his careful touch.

“Rest your hands on my knees. I won’t let you fall.” he instructs, letting his free hand slide up your thigh. You do as he says, leaning back onto his knees, allowing you to take him a little deeper. “Just like that, baby. Fuck…”

You roll your hips in figure eights, feeling him brush against that sensitive place inside you, eliciting a whine from your chest.

“Yeah? Right there?” he asks, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “You stay just like that. Let me take over.”

He brings his foot up to rest on the cushion, giving himself a little more leverage. His hand firmly grips into your hip as he forcefully flicks his hips and fucks up into you. You gasp as he hits that spot, like he knew where it was the whole time. His thumb never relenting in its work on your clit.

“Yeah, damn. That’s it isn’t it, sweetheart? You feel so good like this... You just keep squeezin’ me, just like that.”

The force of his thrusts cause his silver chain to work its way up his body and into the crook of his neck. Your attention is quickly drawn to the metal coins rattling together with each thrust.

“M’gonna cum…” you warn him so he can decide whether or not to back off, but he just groans and keeps his motions steady. You can’t breathe when it hits you, nor can you help the way you fall forward, gasping for breath. Steadying yourself with weak arms, you grasp at the plush comforter underneath him.

“Fuck me that’s tight,” he groans. “Fuck.” He grabs your wrists on either side of his head for leverage, thrusting up into you so hard you see stars. It’s like your vision goes white as your chest heaves and you meet your end, crying out a desperate wail of his name.

“Slow down for me now, baby.” he coos as you tremble and try to catch your breath. You nod, taking all of him slowly with each roll of your hips. Looking down at him, you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together. Something about the way he’s dewy with sweat, his chest rising and falling, his hair sticking to his face… It makes your head spin. You watch his stoned eyes rolling back each time you take him so deeply the head of his cock brushes against the deepest part of you and it’s almost too much to bear.

He grips your hips suddenly, inhaling sharply. You freeze, knowing what he’s getting at, and you feel him twitch inside you. His brow is knitted up in concentration and a whine leaves his perfect, heart-shaped lips.

“Goddamn… you feel too good. I can’t– I can’t hold it, fuck…” he babbles, his voice pitched higher than you’ve heard it all night. Before you can say a word, he continues on.

“Can I do it inside? Please, baby, can I? Pl– oh, god, please? Wanna cum inside you so bad, so fucking bad… Can I? Baby–”

“Do it.” you urge, desperate to give him anything he wants in this very moment.

“Yeah?” he gasps.

“Yeah, do it. Please. I need it…” you whine, squeezing him with everything you have one last time.

“Oh fuck…” he groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulls you down and holds you in place as he pumps into you. “God damn, fuck me…” he cries out, grunting with each pulse inside you. His brows are furrowed and his eyes screwed shut before finally letting out a deep breath and slowing his hips.

His chest is heaving and a sheen of sweat covers his tanned skin. His hand moves from your hips, swiping the sweaty hair from his forehead. You lift to your knees, knowing exactly why his eyes are still trained on the place the two of you meet. He wants to see his work.

As you lift up, you feel his release start to stream out of you and back down onto his cock. A huff of pride leaves his chest, his tongue swiping out over his bottom lip before biting it between his teeth.

“Should we clean up?” he asks, watching the hot white streams drip down to his base.

“I’m working on it...” you say softly, lifting off of him completely and dropping to your knees. You plant your hands on either side of his hips, arching your back and pressing your ass into the air as you lower your mouth over his cum covered cock.

“Fuck…” he groans, watching your lips slide down his length.

Closing your lips over his base, you take him as far into your throat as you can, sucking his release from his skin as you work your way up, dragging your tongue over his every inch. You can feel him growing hard again as you reach the tip, lapping and circling your tongue around the sensitive skin. You drop down to his base again, but this time you feel his hand grip into your hair, holding you there as his hips jerk forward, propelling him further down your throat.

“Look at me.” he demands, and you flick your watery eyes up to meet his.

You gag around him and he releases your hair, his eyes dark and filled with desire. “Mmm…Yeah, fuck. We’re gonna revisit this...” he says, eyes fixed on you as you pull off of him with a pop. “Just needed to see how pretty you look with my cock down your throat.”

You can’t stop the tiny gasp that escapes you as you shoot him a playfully shocked grin. You blink once, raising your brows.

“We have a lot to revisit. Where did that come from?” You ask through a laugh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. He chuckles, handing you your shirt.

“Sorry, sorry. The edible’s wearing off.” He says with a smirk, attempting to get himself off the couch. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Jake shows you to the bathroom, then disappears into his bedroom while you freshen up. When you emerge, re-dressed and significantly less sticky, he hears your footsteps and comes out to meet you in the hallway. The two of you smile at each other, feeling the THC and endorphins and feelings starting to settle like you’re standing in a snowglobe.

“I'm glad you came over. Sorry I Jake’d you for a few hours.” He says softly, and there’s some jingling coming from his bedroom, which is probably Davy annoyed that you’re still lingering in his house. Jake hears it, reaching behind him to close his bedroom door without looking away from you.

“Jake’d me? Please don’t tell me that’s what you call–”

“NO, no, no. Oh, no. Getting ‘Jake’d’ is what my family calls it when I corner one of them into talking to me for an extended period of time about something they don’t really care about in excruciating detail.” He explains like he’s reading the definition from a textbook, a charming smile on his face. He seems a little embarrassed but at the same time, he sees the humor in it.

“Well I had a really great time.” you answer genuinely, pushing your hair behind your ear. “You can Jake me whenever you want.” You joke, a laugh bubbling out of you. You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully and it coaxes a short, loud laugh out of him as well.

“I just might take you up on that.” He says, and there’s a rosy tint to his cheeks even in the dim lighting of the hallway.

“You know where to find me...”

As if he can tell you’re about to try and take your leave, he starts to walk past you and down the stairs.

“...Have you ever watched those videos where they clean out old barns?”

–

The two of you ended up curled together on the chaise, tucked under his big comfy blanket. The exhaustion hits you all at once, and about 10 minutes in, you slip into a deep sleep, your head tucked into his shoulder, his arm around you, his hand gently scratching your scalp.

Hours later, you wake up unsure where you are for a moment. As you shift a little, you feel there’s a heavy weight against you, which you soon realize is Jake’s leg. You’re no longer tucked underneath the giant duvet, a little sweaty, as Jake is asleep on his back. His hand is tucked into his sweatpants resting on his upper thigh, and you have to peel your eyes away once you spot the first sign of him half hard and half asleep. You can see his bold tan line and the slightest bit of hair through the gap he’s created. Sitting up, you try to search for a clock somewhere in the room or even your phone. Feeling around the chaise under you, you don’t find it. You look over on the other side of Jake hoping it’s there, but the only thing you find there is little Davy, curled into a ball and pressed against Jake’s back.

Jake seems to feel you moving around and it wakes him, eliciting a raspy hum from his chest. He pulls you back in towards him, your back to his chest, and you feel him shaking his head against your shoulder.

“Morning,” you say through a breathy laugh, but at the sound of your voice, you hear the jingle of Davy’s collar and the tippy-taps of his feet as he runs as far away from you as humanly possible.

“Too early.” He grumbles, reaching blindly over his head to feel around for the curtains. When he doesn’t find them, he groans and gets up, tugging them closed tight. “Fuck. Slept with my contacts in.” He says, standing over you and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He stretches his arms over his head, his tanline peeking out again, and you squeeze your eyes closed trying to keep your head on straight. He sighs deeply before sliding back onto the couch with you, pulling you tight to him. The two of you fall back asleep soon after, the only sound you hear is the clinking of Davy’s collar tag against his bowl and some quiet crunching.

–

When you wake again it’s from the feeling of Jake’s fingers moving against your hip. You stretch your legs out along the chaise, feeling the brush of his sweatpants against your legs. You roll your body towards him letting out a yawn. His eyes open, a little red from the dryness of sleeping with his contacts in, but as they fully open you’re once again pulled in by the dark brown irises.

“Still too early?” you whisper, your morning voice thick with sleep.

“Mmm, a bit, but I should probably get up. I’m sure my phone is just completely blown up by this point.” he groans, stretching his own legs out. “You sleep okay? We should’ve just moved to the bed earlier.”

“Actually this couch is pretty comfy, no complaints from me.” you smile, watching a grin spread across his own face.

“Speaking of complaints, your snoring…” he trails off.

“I don’t snore!” you admonish, playfully pushing off of his warm chest.

“No, you don’t. I’m just kidding. You are warm though, but that’s not a complaint.” he growls, tossing the comforter off of both of you. He pushes himself up off of the couch, his sweatpants dangerously low on his hips. “Coffee? You drink coffee?” he asks, searching for his phone on the coffee table. “Or I can order something to the house, though there’s really only one good place that deliv–”

You send him a knowing look and he stops himself.

“But you know that already because you live across the street.” he sighs. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee’s good.” you answer, looking for your own phone.

“How do you like it? Sugar? Milk? I don’t know what I have but–”

“Just sugar is fine…” you smirk.

He leans over the coffee table to grab his phone, stealing a kiss on his descent.

“Hey!” you laugh.

“You said just sugar…” he grins, swiping his phone and disappearing into his kitchen.

You stifle back the smile on your lips, and a morning you thought might be slightly awkward, feels like you’ve done it a million times. You pull on your cardigan, and run your fingers through your hair, straightening up the couch cushions, and repositioning the pillows. You’re finishing folding up his comforter as he walks into the room.

“Ahh, you didn’t have to do that.” he says, placing your mug on the coffee table.

“No trouble, just cleaning up our mess.” you smile, tossing the folded comforter down onto the couch.

“You seem to be rather good at that...” he smirks into his coffee mug.

Your cheeks grow hot as you recall what he is referring to. You grab your mug from the table and take a few sips, finding that somehow it’s made exactly how you like it.

You spot your keys under the coffee table, bending to grab them. “There they are. Always getting away from me.”

He chuckles as he takes his normal seat on the couch, crossing his leg over his knee. You stare at him, just enjoying his coffee on his couch and you want to ask him if you can see him again, but you don’t. You think back to what he told you last night, and decide against it.

You place your empty mug on the table, and bite your lips together before looking at him. “Thank you– for the coffee, and everything. It was nice.”

“Yeah, it was nice, wasn’t it? Same time next year?” he jokes, offering you a wink.

“Oh yeah, I thought that was a given…” you say through a laugh, “I mean, if you’re home of course.”

You grab your phone and keys from the coffee table and stand, ready to make your way towards the front door. He joins you in standing, the mug still clasped in his hand.

“Yeah, you just never know, ya know? I mean, maybe we don’t even have to wait that long…” he laughs, taking another sip of his coffee with a shrug.

“Yeah, I mean, you have my number…” You smile, twisting the front door knob.

“That I do. I definitely do.” he pauses, as you pull the door open. “Hey wait, let me walk you home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, it’s just right there…” you say nervously.

“No, really. I want to. Just give me a sec.” he says, setting his mug on the entry table and rushing to grab a hoodie from his coat rack. He slides on a pair of dirty white Vans that have definitely seen better days, and opens the door further. “Alright, you ready?”

The two of you make your way through his front yard, giggling back and forth all the way to your front door as he quizzes you about the videos you watched last night. As you step up to your front porch mat you pull your keys from your cardigan pocket and start to unlock the door.

“Thanks for walking me home. You’re such a gentleman…” you say, feigning romance. As you peek over his shoulder you see Davy sitting in the window, keeping a close eye on Jake.

“Well of course, I couldn’t miss out on my kiss…” he smiles, a little dimple forming in his cheek.

“What kiss…” you press, all the while secretly hoping for just one more.

He grabs your waist and pulls you close to him, pressing his cold lips to yours. You can taste the remnants of coffee on his tongue, and as he pulls away his lips linger just a second longer.

A hum leaves his lips as he steps back. “That kiss.” He says, stepping backwards off of your porch, taking a few steps before turning to head back to his house. As you step inside your front door you look over your shoulder at the same time as he does, throwing his hand up from inside his hoodie pocket to offer you a two finger wave.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you close the door behind you, and you feel like positively melting into the ground over the night you just shared with Jake. As you peek out the window you see Davy gone from his patrol post, and you smile knowing he’s definitely happy to have Jake all to himself again.

—

As you scrub away the remnants of the night before, you can’t help but to remember the way his hands felt as they moved across your body. So warm and so intentional, even in his intoxicated state. You wonder if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and if he’s thinking about it just as much as you are. You think back to every other Valentine’s day you’ve ever had, and not a single one holding a candle to the night you just spent across the street with your neighbor.

You hear your phone buzz on the bathroom counter as you turn the shower off, wrapping yourself in a towel as you pick it up from the countertop. Your heart leaps in your chest as you see his name flash across your screen.

Jake - Neighbor

12:04pm: Probably should have watched the first one before the sequel. 😉

12:04pm: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWDf_CEkpoU&t=1382s

You quickly hit the link, watching as it directs you to youtube, pulling up yet another Rig Rundown video. This one is much older than the one you saw last night, and as you lean against the bathroom counter the intro music starts to play. You’re met with a much younger looking version of Jake, in a sweater and a bucket hat, looking bright and eager to talk about his craft.

You quickly head towards your kitchen, pulling your own stash of gummies from your pantry. You pluck one of the small black bags from the basket and snap a photo as you pull up your texts and attach it to a message with a giggle.

You

12:10pm: Should I take one of these before I watch it?

12:10pm: By the way, love the bucket hat… 😉

You make your way back to your bedroom, dressing yourself in lounge clothes, knowing you’ll probably spend the rest of the day relaxing and catching up on your shows. Satisfied with your outfit you grab your phone to check for his response, only to be met with an empty screen. You sigh and make your way to the living room, flopping down onto your couch with your leftover take out from the night before, pressing play on the TV.

You try not to think about the man across the street and what he’s probably doing. You know he must be into something since he has yet to respond to your message. That or he has no intention of ever speaking to you again.

Feeling frustrated that it’s probably the latter, you toss your phone to the other side of the couch, catching a glance out your window. Your eyes snap to his driveway, seeing another car taking up the space next to his. Who the hell is at his house?

You stand up and make your way over to the window, taking a closer look at the white Jeep parked next to his car. You’ve never noticed it before…Or have you? You start to wrack your brain for the times you’ve even seen another car at his house, but you come up short. Never really caring before today.

You sit back down on the couch and start the next episode of your show, feeling the soreness from the prior night's activities starting to settle into your muscles. You grab a throw blanket and your favorite pillow and snuggle down into the couch cushions, ready to nap away your troubles, and hoping to wake up to a new message in your inbox.

A knock on the door startles you awake. You grab your phone and see that you’ve slept quite a few hours, and it’s now nearly 6:00pm.

You stand up and run your hands through your hair to combat the bedhead, clearing your throat as you reach for the door knob. Standing on the other side of your door is Jake, looking like he is fresh from the shower, as his damp hair lays long over his shoulders. You can smell his body wash wafting off of him and you practically melt into the door frame.

“Did I wake you up? Did you actually take that gummy?” he laughs, pulling his hands from his pockets.

“Oh, no. I didn’t. I just… I guess I was a little more tired than I thought.” you blush, trying to play it cool, and not like you’ve been thinking about him since the moment he left this morning.

“Sorry I forgot to respond. My brother came over and I couldn’t get him to leave.” he laughs.

His brother.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I was in and out of sleep all day anyways.” you lie.

“So…” he pauses, taking a breath as he reaches into his pocket. “I may have acquired something a bit better than what we had last night.” he says holding a small black bag in his palm.

“I don’t know, I kind of liked what we had last night.” you quip, a little smirk on your lips.

“Mhmm, I know you did.” he smiles, sliding his hands back into his trouser pockets.

“I don’t know if you had plans tonight or anything…” he trails off, kicking his foot against your doormat. “But I was thinking about watching this video I saw about how to make a barbecue smoker out of a filing cabinet. Really riveting stuff…”

His big brown eyes flash up to yours in question and you feel that flame in your chest reignite. You’re already eager at the thought of spending another night like last night. You knew right then that it wouldn’t matter if it was a filing cabinet smoker or a centuries old shipwreck, there was suddenly nothing more important than watching whatever it may be, with him. So with a shy smile, and the tap of your fingers against your chin you meet his gaze.

“You know, I really have been meaning to look into that…”

Taglist: @ageofcj @britney-gvf @bladenotblaze @gretavanfan @peaceloveunitygvf @highway-tuna @anythingforjtk @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @myleftsock @gretavanmoon @aflame4goinghome @ascendingtothestarssasone @jjwasneverhere @sparrowofrhiannon @gvfstuddedmajesty @kiarraaldarondo @oliver-mf-reed @notjordie-gvf @starshine-wagner @starcatcherchords @sadiechar @spark-my-nature @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @mackalah @stardustofman @eyelinerjake @farfromthehomelands @abby-gvf @writingcold @fleet-of-fiction @stardustjake @sinarainbows @gvfsstardust @ageoflou @jarmonicasweat @jakekiszkasmommy @bubblyjake @jakeygvf21 @starrymoonslut @takenbythemadness @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @m0uthfl13s @floatinglikeaswan @bri-archer @Mama.likes72

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year ago

Text

The Admirals Strike Back - Cyclone

Pairing: Beau "Cyclone" Simpson / Wife!Reader (Mitchell!Reader)

Word Count: 2.1 k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Consensual and Very Much Legal Age-Gap Relationship (About 15 years); Non-Traditional Father-Daughter Relationship (Between Maverick and Reader); Humor; Cyclone's a Grump; Maverick Becomes a Grump; Use of "You," No Y/N, No Physical Description; Named Simpson!OC Kids

Summary: Maverick knew that his somewhat estranged daughter was married. He just didn't know who she married.

Master List

There was one major rule in the Simpson household. Work ended at the door. The Navy was not allowed to step inside and into your relationship. If Beau needed to deal with the Navy on his personal time, he needed to go into his office.

But Beau was going to have to break that rule tonight.

Beau could hear the sounds of your daughters from down the hall as he walked into your house and felt some of the weight already melting off of his shoulders from his long day.

“Daddy!” Maggie, your eldest daughter, squealed, slipping down from her seat.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Beau bent down and scooped her up into his arms with a bright smile on his face. Setting her on his hip, Beau pressed a kiss to her cheek and fixed the bow in her hair.

“How was your day at school?” Beau asked, walking slowly into the kitchen.

“I got a sticker for being a good line leader!” Maggie announced, causing Beau to smile proudly at her.

“Very good, sweetie. We’re so proud of you.”

“Mommy said that I could have ice cream,” Maggie stated, causing you to turn around from the sink.

“After you finish eating your vegetables, Mags.”

“That sounds fair to me,” Beau replied, setting Maggie back down in her seat. “And I’ll throw in some sprinkles if you finish that broccoli.”

“Promise?” Maggie asked, holding up her pinky finger.

“Promise,” Beau agreed, wrapping his far larger pinky around her own.

Moving onto your younger daughter, Beau clucked his tongue with fake disapproval, causing Parker to grin and giggle up at her dad.

“Ms. Parker, you have far too much tomato sauce on your face,” Beau stated, reaching over to grab a paper towel. Gently holding your daughter’s chin, Beau wiped the sauce off of your daughter’s face before planting a kiss on her chubby cheek. “Were you a good girl for Mommy?”

“Yup!” Parker returned quickly, wearing a mischievous grin that Beau knew was going to give him heart attacks in the future.

“Mostly,” you teased your youngest as you finished up with the dishes.

“Sorry I’m late,” Beau apologized to you, walking over to give you a quick peck in greeting.

“Well, after last night, I assumed that something big was going on,” you assured your husband, setting a plate into the dishwasher.

Beau had gotten a call right around bedtime last night and he didn’t come to bed until the early morning. And you knew what that meant. Something big was going down. And as the Air Boss, your husband was going to be heavily involved. Beau glanced over at your daughters, who were still eating their dinner, before turning back to you.

“You want to break the rule, don’t you?” you guessed, turning to face your husband.

“Am I allowed to break the rule?” Beau asked, causing you to smirk a bit.

“Permission granted, Admiral. Proceed,” you replied, drying off your hands.

“Well, we needed to call in a specialist for this particular event,” Beau started off, folding his arms across his chest. “And we called in someone a little . . . familiar to you.”

You frowned for a bit, your eyes darting back and forth as you ran through the short list of Navy personnel that you were ‘familiar’ with when it suddenly clicked. Setting down the dish towel, you turned to your husband with an incredulous look.

“Maverick?”

“Yes,” Beau confirmed, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“I thought that he was taken off active-duty years ago,” you replied, causing Beau to nod.

“He was, but Iceman disagreed, and called him in.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, glancing over at the girls.

And how did you know Pete “Maverick” Mitchell? Well, you had technically known him your entire life.

Your mother and Pete Mitchell had a brief tryst that resulted in your existence. But Maverick was never very much around in your life, though you only found out recently, due to your mother’s actions. But after she passed away, you started digging to find out more about your father and reached out to Maverick.

Your relationship with your dad was very slow going. He didn’t even know that you were married to Beau. He knew that you were married with two little girls, but he didn’t know the name of your husband. He never asked. And you didn’t tell him.

“Did you want your whiskey then?” you joked quietly, spinning your wedding band around your finger.

“Not tonight,” Beau replied, straightening up. “We have an early morning tomorrow.” He took a step forward and gently took your hand into his own, rubbing your skin with his thumb. “And you’re alright? With him being in town?”

“Of course, I’m fine with that,” you returned, squeezing your husband’s hand. “I was just surprised.” Reaching up to grab your husband’s shoulders, you massaged his tense muscles. “And between the two of us, I think that you’re the one who’s less alright with him being in town.”

“I just need him to follow my orders,” Beau sighed, shaking his head.

“Oh,” you cooed, cupping your husband’s cheeks with your hands, “you’re definitely going to need some more whiskey. I’ll pick up some more tomorrow for you.”

Pressing a teasing kiss to his lips, you giggled when he pulled you in for more. And you were happy to return it, up until your daughter started screaming bloody murder.

“EW! Daddy! You have to put a dollar in the kissing jar!” Maggie yelled, pointing at the jar in the corner of the kitchen.

Similar to a swear jar, the kissing jar in your household was for when your daughters, mostly Maggie, thought that you and Beau were getting just a little too lovey dovey in front of them. The kissing jar money mostly went to ice cream or other desserts that you bought the girls, which only motivated them to call you and Beau out on it more.

“I will,” Beau promised, smiling over at Maggie. “Right after I give Mommy one last kiss.”

“That’s two dollars!” Maggie demanded as Beau pressed another kiss to your lips.

~~~~~

It was a few days after the mission and you waited with your two girls and the other families for the newly formed Dagger Squad to return to Miramar. Beau had called you yesterday from Hawaii, where the planes stopped to refuel and rest, before heading on to Miramar today. And right on time—which you expected nothing less from your husband—you spotted the planes in the distance.

Once they all landed and taxied off the runway and you were given the all clear from the grounds crew, you pointed your daughters in the direction of the plane that you knew Beau was on. Maggie took off running, already yelling for him, while Parker was happy to catch a ride from you.

“Come on, let’s go see Daddy,” you cooed to your youngest daughter before walking off.

“Who’s that woman?” Hangman wondered aloud, watching you walk across the tarmac.

“Out of your league,” Phoenix replied, not even having to glance up.

“Who do you think she’s here for?”

“Probably her spouse, judging by the toddler in her arms,” Bob added, sharing a look with his pilot.

“She’s probably . . .” Rooster trailed off, blinking with surprise at your appearance. Because you looked oddly familiar to the woman that Maverick showed him a picture of in the infirmary. Maverick mentioned that the woman was his daughter and that they were slowly reconnecting, but that they weren’t very close yet. “Holy shit. Who is she here for?”

“Did Hangman’s bullshit transfer that quickly to you? You were in his backseat for a couple of hours,” Phoenix scoffed, causing Rooster to shake his head.

“No, that’s Maverick’s daughter.”

“Maverick has a daughter?” Hangman asked, turning around.

“Yeah, one that he’s not really close with. So, who is she . . . you gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Maverick and Cyclone stepped off the plane side by side, chatting about what was to come in the next few days since Iceman’s replacement was not yet decided. But before Cyclone could get too wrapped up in the conversation, Warlock tapped Cyclone on the arm and gestured towards the hangar.

Cyclone turned and instantly smiled when he spotted Maggie running towards him, pumping her little arms to run as fast as she could. You trailed behind her with Parker on your hip, but you waved to him as soon as you locked eyes. Maverick followed Cyclone’s gaze, expecting the daughters that Cyclone mentioned very briefly in passing to be teenagers.

But when little six-year-old Maggie leapt into her dad’s waiting arms, Maverick was quietly surprised.

“You’re back!”

“I am back, yes,” Cyclone agreed, hugging his daughter to his chest. “Did you miss me?”

“Yeah, a lot! And Mommy was sad without you!”

“Well, she does like me just a little bit,” Cyclone joked, setting his daughter on his hip. “Were you a good girl for her?”

“Like I promised,” Maggie agreed, holding up her pinky finger. “Parker threw up though.”

“When?” Cyclone asked, instantly concerned.

“Mommy said that she ate too fast and then ran around too much,” Maggie replied, shrugging her shoulders. “It was a few days ago.”

“Daddy!” Parker yelled, causing Beau to look away from Maggie.

You set down a wiggling Parker onto the ground, letting her run the last of the way to her dad. And then you turned to face your own, who was staring at you in shock. You shot him a sheepish smile.

“Surprise,” you breathed out, waving to Maverick, who waved dumbly back.

Cyclone, meanwhile, picked up Parker and held both of his girls. Pressing a kiss to both of their cheeks, Cyclone walked over to you. Turning away from Maverick, you smiled up at your husband and gently cupped his cheeks to pull him in for a soft kiss.

“You’re finally home,” you sighed in relief, rubbing his cheeks with your thumb.

“We’re all home. In one piece,” Cyclone reported, causing you to let out a breath.

Pulling your husband in for another kiss, you wrapped your arms around your little family for a moment. In the background, Hondo slowly waved his hand in front of Maverick’s eyes, shocked himself at the turn of events, but far more amused than Maverick was about it. Pulling away from your husband, you turned to greet your dad.

“Hey, Mav,” you called softly, walking over to him. You gave him a quick hug and squeeze in greeting, all while waiting for his reaction to actually drop. “How are you?”

“Shocked,” Maverick replied, glancing between you and Cyclone. “You . . . he’s your husband?”

“For the past eight years,” Cyclone stated, adjusting his hold on your daughters.

“But . . .” Maverick blinked rapidly, turning back to you. “I mean, isn’t he a bit . . .”

“He is still your superior officer,” Cyclone reminded Maverick, causing you to shoot him the same look that you always did when he got a bit snappy during Navy social events.

“Yes, we’re aware that there’s an age gap between us,” you assured your dad, turning back to Maverick.

“How did the two you of you even meet?”

“Well, I had this ad up on a sugar baby website and—”

“—You know that I don’t like that joke,” Cyclone interjected, causing you to shoot him a playful smile while Maverick’s heart attack receded.

“We met at a wedding actually. Mutual friends. We sat next to each other at the same table and spent most of the night talking. I managed to convince him to dance and then we got together about two weeks after that.”

“Ten days,” Cyclone replied, pressing a kiss to Maggie’s head.

“And these are your daughters?” Maverick asked, looking over at your girls.

“Yes, this is Maggie. She’s six. And that’s Parker. She’s three,” you introduced, pointing out your daughters to Maverick.

“They’re beautiful,” Maverick commented, causing Cyclone to nod towards you.

“They get it from her.”

Maverick nodded in return and you and Cyclone excused yourselves, walking off to greet Warlock’s family. He blinked dumbly, still in disbelief that the fact that his daughter was married to someone like Cyclone of all people. Cyclone? Really? The man was an outstanding aviator, but he was probably at least fifteen years older than you and a stick in the mud.

Hondo’s barely contained laughter caused Maverick to turn towards the warrant officer.

“What?”

“Well, isn’t it ironic that for all the crap that they give you for running around with Penny, an admiral’s daughter, that your own daughter married an admiral? And Cyclone at that.”

“Shut up, Hondo,” Maverick sighed, causing Hondo to burst out laughing and nudge him in the arm.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun #tgm #tgm fanfiction #pete mitchell #pete maverick mitchell #beau cyclone simpson #beau simpson #cyclone #beau cyclone simpson x reader #beau cyclone simpson x you #cyclone top gun #cyclone x reader #cyclone x you #beau simpson x reader #beau simpson x you

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hearts4werka · 2 months ago

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NNN day 2 | Gothically Yours

summary: you’ve forced your boyfriend to let you do goth makeup on him and the experience turns out to be more fun than he could have expected, leaving both of you giggling while laying on the floor together…

warnings: FLUFF none! Just fluffy soft!bf!chris and his goth girlfriend playing around 😋

authors note: here we goo, second day of NNN done already. this idea was brought to me by @cupiidk1lls and basically all thanks to her for the idea, we’ve been brainstorming over it together too and how it should go. Sorry if this is a bit short too but idk how to make them longer without repeating the same things over and over again lol, hope y’all enjoy

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

I scavenge through my makeup bag, preparing all of the products for a fun little activity I’ve managed to force Chris into today. Doing my style of makeup on him, he as per usual opens a can of pepsi and take a simple sip, we both sit in front of the mirror in my room with a variety of different stickers of my favorite bands and artists adoring the rims and edges of it as quiet rap music plays from the record player I have in my room. It was Chris’s choice today so thats why theres lil skies playong on the background, Ive bought vinyl records of the albums he listens to the most just so both of us can listen to the music we like.

He starts quietly singing along to the song currently playing by the time I turn my head to put on his headband to get his hair out of his face for once. "You like this song?" I ask, turning my head back to my makeup bag. Chuckling at his sudden musical interest, “Of course I like the song, it’s my favorite!” He states cheeringly which makes me giggle, after making sure I have everything I glance back at my canvas for today which is my boyfriend’s face. Grabbing the headband I put it over his head and pull it onto his forehead finally revealing his full face that’s always covered by his long ass hair.

“Finally I can see your full face.” I state slightly teasing, just to mess with him as I place a gentle kiss on his forehead which leaves faint black residue from my lipstick. He looks behind me at himself in the mirror and immediately notices the marks on his forehead, “Whats that on my forehead?” He questions and his eyes land on me and my black lips, already figuring out what it is. A soft chuckle erupts from his throat as he wipes it off with his hand while going back to looking at himself in the mirror. “Bro I look weird as fuck in this headband thingy.” “No, you don’t.” “Just look at me!” He argues and gestures to the mirror for me to look.

I turn my head and glance at him in the mirror, a slight pout playing on his lips. “You look fine, don’t be dramatic.” I reply before moving onto the main task at hand, he puts a hand on his chest for a more dramatic effect. “I’ll be as dramatic as I like, thank you very much.” Chuckling at his statement I pick up the first products and start to work on the base of his makeup. Blending in the products together with a beauty blender, his face already appearing whiter than ever. He glances over my shoulder again at himself in the mirror and decided to drop a comment. “Now I look like Casper the ghost.”

“Stop moving, Chris!” I comment softly, grabbing his face and again making him face me so I can continue my work. He mumbled a quiet “yes ma’am” under his breath before becoming still but I could feel his hands creeping up to rest on my hips to pull me closer to him as soon as I pull my hands way from his face. As I add the powdered products, I go over his nose and he sneezes from the tickle. “What was that?” He asks, glancing down at the brush with powder on it that made him sneeze so suddenly and raises an eyebrow. “It’s just powder, now just stay still in about to do your eyeliner.” I answer, going over his face with the brush again to apply the rest of the powder needed on his face.

Now moving onto the next step which is my favorite and really brings the look together, the eye makeup. I pick up the eyeliner along with a small fluffy brush and my pallet I use everyday. I start of with base eyeshadow, creating a smoky eye before finally opening the eye liner and starting to outline the shape. “How long is it gonna take you to finish?” I chuckle at his slight impatience, deep down I know he wants it to take longer than expected because he secretly enjoyed me doing makeup on him since we always end up as two laughing messes on the ground.

“It’s not gonna take me too long, don’t worry.” Then I go back to doing his eye makeup, now filling in his wing with the black eyeliner. Out of the corner of my eye I notice him admiring me as I do his makeup, I can’t help but let a small smile spread across my face at his eyes constantly being glued to my face. “Y’know you’re cool as fuck. Right?” He asks, tilting his head in question as if he’s never said those words to me. “You’ve told me that before today already.” “I know but I can’t help speaking the truth, ma.” His words earn him a deserved kiss on the lips, a sweet smirk appears on his face as he takes this opportunity to gently tackle me to me the ground and littler multiple kisses on my face.

I start giggling my ass off from the feeling left behind each one of the kisses before finally speaking between laughter. “You’re gonna ruin my makeup!” My words don’t make him surrender and only fuel him more to start tickling my sides, causing me to flinch slightly and intensify my laugh. “My-“ kiss “beautiful-“ kiss “goth-“ kiss “queen.” He says between each and single kiss as my laughter attaches onto him and infect him with my contagious giggles. He drops down next to me on the ground and we start laughing even harder than before completely out of nowhere, our surrounding becoming nonexistent as the only thing that’s left is just our laughing forms on the ground.

Guestlist!

| - @sturnioloblues - @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - |

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popponn · 1 year ago

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sick day safe distance.

summary: you caught a cold and really doesn’t want him to also get sick. it’s that simple, actually.

notes: was tempted to add more, but yeah one day, maybe. this is me trying to pump myself up and trying to grasp sae more for an upcoming fic. also warm up for a bit. still i hope it will be an enjoyable read, as simple and unserious it is haha. warning: none, just mentions of colds symptoms here and there. fluff, clingy slash affectionate bfs, reader's gender unspecified.

character: nagi, sae, isagi.

nagi seishiro

this guy somehow turns even more similar to his favorite chat sticker. just a bit more fluffy, and bigger, and with grubby hands. put simply, nagi is pretty troublesome because he insists on still being close to you. he really doesn’t see a point in keeping his distance since he still lives under the same roof as you—which doesn’t mean you could go somewhere else though. he is not above actually hanging on your hip. don’t test him.

in a way, you will be lucky if he must go out for practice. but if he is not, then good luck. if before you sleep, he was sitting a few meters away from you, the moment you took a nap nagi would be laying his head somewhere near or on you while playing his game. pray for your debate skill, because you really need to convince him that ‘getting sick is even more troublesome than not cuddling with you for a while. yes even when that’s what he really wants.’ also a little tip, be strong and don’t look at his baby face too much. that’s a losing fight with a natural puppy face. and if you want to take a bet, use his hoodie as your sick attire. it will either satiate whatever it is in him or worsen it.

he is a bit childish and adamant when he is clingy. even when he is not in the clingiest mood, that wouldn’t necessarily mean his concern for you would be gone immediately. every hour or so, you will definitely see a nagi peeking at you, asking if you want anything because ‘if you got worse it would be even more troublesome’. and honestly just let him do anything he wants to take care of you—this guy will be okay in the kitchen and in anything even if it’s his first time. that’s the resident giant sloth doing something for you out of his own willingness. plus if worst comes to worst, hey, maybe adrenaline could be an instant cure.

itoshi sae

sae makes a face that indicates he is a little upset, hums, and then actually says he will stay somewhere else for a while. he reacts so gracefully and normally it’s kind of cold. but then again, this is sae and his personality. just because he seems unaffected and puts you somewhere pretty low on his priority list, it doesn’t mean that is how it truly is. and if you are trained to translate sae-speak through experiences and are already used to him, it’s kind of obvious, from his actions especially.

it’s obvious in the way he leaves you messages and voice notes. and in the way he insults you when you try to do something dumb or eat something that you shouldn’t. in the way he sends you food and reminds you to drink every hour he can—and if he has to practice, he will find someone to do that task through sheer deadpan alone. also in the way he keeps the call on until you sleep every night—saying that this is to make sure you won’t infect his part of bed, which is a lie. if you show him that you miss him by cuddling his side of bed this guy will short-circuit, in a very positive way.

also, since this is sae with his terrible case of ‘showing he actually cares’, most of the proof of him being genuinely upset from being away from you will come from others. in the form of complaints. all telling you to get better soon because he got extra grumpy and blunt in his wording as if he is on a vengeance quest. and even if his play got better somehow, help his teammates because they really are not here to deal with a boyfriend who has love deficiency or some bullshit. of course, you hardly believe them because in every video call, sae acts like it's nothing. still, go do loving gestures in your temporary long-distance relationship. some people will actually owe you for that. also don’t forget to at least give him an update if he somehow couldn’t contact you. just in case.

isagi yoichi

isagi takes it with a grimace and an understanding sigh that truthfully still sounds very exasperated, but accepting nonetheless. he will still whine a little though, in a very joking and light manner. this guy’s schedule is packed and he rarely has any time with you, so of course if any chance he should have gotten sabotaged by some random flu, it’s entirely within his right to get at least a little upset. so understandably, his priority as an egoist who really wants some loving would be to get you healthy again as soon as possible. also, maybe, that part of him that takes care of people so naturally kind of screeches when you cough roughly.

the sweetest part is probably how he will still find a way to take care of you no matter what his schedule is. what isagi wants, isagi will get somehow after all. it’s his break day? you are not leaving his sight and he will watch the old matches from your side—also he is wearing a face mask so don’t bother to shoo him away. if he has training? maybe you have to walk around a little bit by yourself still, but somehow everything from food to medicines is ready. his friends ask him to hang out? this one is a straight-out pass, his baby is sick.

this is the guy who will try to cook porridge for you while calling his mom in the process and sends a longing gaze when you keep a distance between the two of you. he won’t protest and will actually do his best. remember to walk around the neighborhood with him the moment you get better. also give him as many handholds, hugs, kisses, and praises as possible. actually, go do a headstart on the praise if possible. even if he scolds you to rest instead of giving him sugary words, the soft dotting look on his face can’t lie. just make sure to not suggest sleeping in the hotel or have him stay at someone’s though—trust this guy and his self-centeredness. when he really wants to stay with you and stay healthy for his career, he will. don’t doubt him or make enemies of the protagonist.

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mythmash · 6 months ago

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Bouncer!Sukuna AU Pt. 2

Bouncer!Sukuna x Stripper/Dancer!Reader. Warnings: MDNI 18+, bullet point fic, uncle!sukuna, bootplay, cunnilingus mention, knifeplay, blood, bloodplay, biting, period sex mention A/N: this is a collaborative work made with the amazing @pastelbunnelby, @pastelpixies & @chaoskrakenuwu Series Masterlist || Previous | Next

You start using Sukuna's charges to your own advantage when someone won't leave you alone

"Sorry, I have a boyfriend. He kills people 😊"

He gives you free rein around his apartment and you snoop around until you find his mugshot and frame it

Sukuna keeps taking it down and hiding it, so you move it when he's not looking

You decorate it for the holidays with little stickers like a santa hat, rabbit ears, a bunch of tiny ghosts

You get it printed on one those "I <3 my boyfriend" shirts where you can put the picture in the heart and wear it to bed for April Fool's Day

You think it's hilarious

Sukuna does not

Speaking of holidays, you get little sexy heels ornaments to put on your Christmas tree, and somehow one finds its way onto his keys as a reminder of you when he goes out

Not that he'd ever forget

And speaking of heels, you have a collection of dancing heels and Sukuna loves them, and when you wear only them

He sees you in so little clothes at work anyway, and he's impatient as fuck when he wants you so lingerie doesn't do much for him, but the heels?

The idea of you digging the sharp heel into the back of his thighs or his hips and leaving marks when he's pounding into you makes him go wild

You're getting dressed for a shift while he watches from the bed, and he stops you so he can pick up your foot and place it in his lap heel slightly on his crotch as he takes his time putting lotion and body glitter and kisses and whatever else on your leg before he laces up your heels and switches to the other leg

He likes it when you wear heels or boots with lots of buckles so he has to close each one and you can be there just a little longer

If it's thigh high anything, prepare to be late for your shift

If it's thigh highs that lace all the way up, you always have to lace the tops yourself because he ends up eating you out before he gets there

If it's latex or pvc thigh highs, he's touching them all over because they make your legs and thighs look so good, and he's shining them with his tongue just making his way up your thighs to eat you out again

It's kinda gross because the boots are gross, but honestly so is he and it turns you both on soooo

You come to the realization if you have somewhere to be on time you can’t wear boots, but especially not thigh highs, because you simply will be late every single time and you know he doesn’t give a fuck

In fact, he's glaring at anyone who even seems like they have a problem with your lateness which solves that pretty quick

The club owner gives up on trying to reprimand either of you for being late

If any of the other dancers comment on it, they have to be extra careful not to accidentally slip on stage or trip down the steps

Those heels are just so high, anything could happen if they aren’t careful….

But what really gets him is when you're trying to scuff your new shoes

You take his knife, twirl it around, and keep eye contact while you use it to scuff your heels

The sight of you with his knife is something he never knew he needed until it happened

He decides to introduce some minor knifeplay and lets you use his knife

You accidentally cut him and go to lick the blood from the blade, but you cut your tongue and his mouth is immediately on yours soothing the cut with his tongue and sucking the blood off

It's hot but you decide it's something you'd rather do as a rare treat

Sukuna doesn't mind

He's resourceful enough to find other way to satisfy his blood kink

You accidentally cut your finger while cooking, and he sits you on his lap, your finger in his mouth as he "cleans" the cut for you and you feel how hard he is and you have a sneaking suspicion it’s not just because you’re sitting on him based on the almost dazed look he’s getting wiping up your blood with his mouth

He's noisy about it too

Moaning and slurping and not once does he take his eyes off yours while he's doing it or when his other hand settles on your hip and starts grinding you on his lap

If you try to move your finger away, don’t

He's conflicted because he doesn't like the idea of you being hurt, but he can’t help but feel so turned on

It’s like he’s getting a part of you that he shouldn’t something so personal and forbidden and he can’t help but want more

It’s a little treat for him because it only happens if you accidentally cut yourself

Or when you're on your period which he definitely isn't tracking so he can be as insatiable as possible and keep you so thoroughly exhausted you can't do much else besides eat and sleep

…..And if you seem to cut yourself more often after that little moment he’s not going to mention it

You're just a little clumsy is all

It's not his fault you got a little distracted by him intentionally coming up behind you and kissing your neck while cutting vegetables and now you have a little cut on your finger

Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it he’ll help fix it

And again he’s perceptive, he’d never let you do any lasting damage, but if you get a little knick here and there that’s just life right?

He'd always kiss you after to comfort you. Only to kiss it and make it better...not at all to see your blood smear across your lips

The other dancers get concerned when you keep showing up with bandaids on your fingers and you explain “Oh, just learning some new cooking tricks!�� while trying not to show how hot and bothered you are at the memory

Aaaand now you have to find Sukuna before your next dance because how can you concentrate on dancing when all you can think about is him smearing blood-slick spit on your skin as he licks up your fingers?

He bites your lips when he kisses you just to get a small taste of your blood and hear your little whines

When he kisses your neck, he always nips at your pulse. Not hard enough to draw blood but a bit harder than advisable.

He really wants you to feel it because he always gets the breathiest whimpers out of you and you grind against him just that much more when he does

Plus the rush of knowing how easily he could sink his teeth in and tear your throat, and how you trust him so much to know that’s probably what he’s thinking and you’re still letting him do this

And he’d constantly remind him that you should be afraid of him, you should be scared of him like everyone else is, but you aren’t because you’re just as nasty as he is and how could such a pretty little princess like you be so dirty

He’d love every second of it

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #sukuna ryoumen smut #jjk sukuna #bouncer!sukuna #jjk fics

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ahoeforian · 5 months ago

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ian × girly!reader hc

warnings: none

a/n: finally put smth out 😭

- you leave a lot of random things laying around in his car also stickers. you put scrunchies on his gear shift for later but always forget to get them again so that's just where they stay, which leads to his friends teasing him.

"y/n you gotta stop leaving your shit in my car" he plopped down on the couch next to you. "why am i scarin' the hoes away?" you joked nudging him a bit "no, i just drove my friend to his place and he kept saying dumb shit like 'im pussy whipped' you couldn't help but laugh

-bf!ian who... buys everything for you, your nails, clothes, shoes, and everytime yall go on dates he pays

-bf!ian who.. has to wipe off your pink lipgloss that smudges onto his lips whenever yall kiss

-bf!ian who... ties your shoes for you or puts your heels on for you.

"wait i need you to tie my shoe" you stand on one leg, holding the wall for balance and lifting the other one off the ground by a few inches trying to show him the untied laces "gimmie your foot baby" he kneels on one knee and you put your foot on the leg thats propped up, he ties your shoe and gives your foot a little tap when he's done "thanks"

-bf!ian who... takes you to the studio whenever he's writing a song or recording.

-bf!ian who... loves your style and all your small skirts and bows.

-bf!ian who.. would catch himself watching you do your makeup and just admire everything you do.

-bf!ian who.. tries to get you to be friends with some of his (he is your only friend)so you don't feel out of place when he leaves the room.

you were sitting on ian's lap scrolling on your phone while he talked with his friends. "I'm 'bouta go to the bathroom" his hand squeezes your hip "wait what?" you mumble. he moves you off of him and gets up from the couch "uhh.. talk about makeup or sum shit, just don't be awkward when i leave" he told his friends before leaving out to the bathroom.

-bf!ian who... tries to help you do your hair

"can you hold this last piece" you asked holding the second to last piece of straightned hair. he grabs one of the curls you had just done while still looking at his phone "ian not that- dude you're not even looking" you said in a more irritated tone "my bad" he apologized, putting his phone away and grabs the right piece of hair.

-bf!ian who... secretly loves your pink room with all your jellycats and blankets, with a bunch of posters up on the walls. BUT he doesn't take pictures in there and post them (neither can you) cause he doesn't wanna mess up his 'image' sometimes you guys joke about it whenever he sleeps over

a/n: i think i lost the meaning of hc also looking back at it this it feels short but actually writing it, it infact didn't feel that way

a/n: i can do a pt.2 but instead nsfw

just tagging my followers i wont tag u again if you don't want me to: @cherib3lla @cdbabymp3 @wackyweirdothefirst @beyoncelamar @mikeylaissoslay @jvnk3 @dominiquessidehoe

#ian x reader #ian smith #ian #ian smith × reader

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year ago

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Bets & Bargains - Part 1

Series Masterlist

➪in which a freshly broken up with bradley agrees to throw a back-to-school party and it’s there where he comes up with a cruel way to win back his ex.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4.5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Bri, don’t be like this,” Bradley mumbled as he watched her pace around his room from his spot on the edge of his bed. When she passed by him he reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Come on.”

She stopped walking and turned to glare at him. “No, Bradshaw,” she seethed and roughly pulled her hand out of his grasp. “I can’t do this anymore. You don’t take things seriously! You don’t take me seriously!”

Bri turned once again and picked up her discarded shirt she had taken off not even an hour ago. She had shown up at his frat house, a needy mess for him like she always is, and now that he was done fucking her she just had to bring up the fact that he doesn’t put enough effort into their relationship.

It was bullshit, because Bradley felt like he put in more effort than most guys would, and it started out as a casual thing, anyway.

Sure, it developed over time and he was going onto almost eleven months with her, but he felt fine at the pace they were going at. He was only twenty two, he didn’t need something super serious right now.

He thought what the two of them had right now was good and enough. But apparently he was wrong. “You haven’t taken me out on a date since the beginning of June,” she continued as she shrugged the shirt on and looked at his sticker-covered mirror to fix her hair.

When he just lifted a brow and set his phone aside, she met his eyes in the mirror with a harsh glare. “And?” He asked in self-defense.

She spun around and put her hands on her hips. “It’s the end of August, Bradshaw!” She nearly yelled and Bradley winced, hating how she never used his real name. No one did, but she did it even after he told her he preferred if she used his first name. “I want someone who takes me out every once in a while, and not just to frat parties. I mean, I stayed here all summer with you instead of going back home and spending time with my family. You only took me out once and it was to pick up dinner from that stupid fast food place that is literally a few streets down from the campus.”

Bradley huffed and caught his shirt when she picked it up and threw it at him. “Oh, come on,” he muttered as he put his graphic tee back on. “That’s not true. I took you to that…” He trailed off when he realized he couldn’t complete that sentence.

He looked up and gave her a boyish smile, and she really did not like that one bit. “I need a man, Brad,” she muttered and picked up her bag. “Not some boy who won’t meet me halfway. I’ve put almost a year of my life into this relationship, and for what? So you can just have me on the side? You don’t know how to treat a girl, Bradshaw. You don’t know how to be a decent boyfriend.”

She grabbed her heels and held them in one hand as she opened his door. “Bri,” he said quietly, his eyes pleading with her and saying all the words his mouth couldn’t. “Babe.”

Briana just laughed and shook her head. “This was a waste of time. It was fun, yeah, and you do not disappoint in bed, but I need more than that,” she shrugged. “Honestly, I think that’s the main reason I put up with this for so long. You’re a good fuck, Bradshaw, but a terrible guy. So we’re done.”

He scoffed and felt a little more than beyond objectified, but he still, for some dumb reason, didn’t want to lose her like this. “Briana,” he called as he stood up and made it over to her in three strides. “We’re good together. I can be better, just give me a chance.”

She shook her head and kissed the hickey on his neck that she had given him an hour ago. “I’ve given you one too many chances,” her voice was so monotone, it was actually kind of eerie. She ran the tip of her finger down his chest and stopped just above his jeans, where she full on groped him. “This is all you’re good for, and even that isn’t enough.”

Even though Bradley was currently getting chewed out by her, he still didn’t want to break up. He didn’t want to have wasted nearly a year of his life by not fighting for her. If she wanted more, he’d do more, but she wasn’t giving him the chance. “Bri, I don’t want to lose you,” he confessed quietly, gently taking her hand in his. “Or this.” He gestured in between them with his free one, and she sighed.

“Sorry, Brad,” she patted his chest. “We’ll still see each other. Maybe we can even continue the sex part of our relationship, but that’s it. I’ll seek you out if I need someone to get off with, but for now, we’re over. I’m sorry.”

And then she was pulling away from him completely and leaving his messy room with her head held high while he was left with a broken ego.

He heard her bound down the stairs and the sound of the front door closing before he slammed his bedroom door shut and fell backwards onto his bed.

All she needs him for is an easy lay? That’s all she thinks of him now? How did he possibly miss the signs? Actually, now that she put the idea in his head, he couldn’t remember her ever giving him a sign. He couldn’t even remember her ever complaining about any of the things he apparently did wrong.

This had to be a test. She was testing him, right?

She’ll be back. After she spends a little time away from him, she’ll come crawling back. Unless she just wanted him to fight for her. Or maybe she wanted him to prove her wrong, prove that he is way more than just some good fuck. He can be a good guy, and he can be an even better boyfriend.

Bradley shakes his head as he grabs his phone and clicks on the group chat he shares with his friends and housemates.

Bradley B: Bri broke things off with me. I’m gonna get her back, though.

Eli H: Fuck her. Let’s throw a party tonight.

Bradley scoffed as he read the reply, not at all surprised that his friends couldn’t care less about how he was feeling and cared way more about getting drunk.

Bradley B: I’m kind of sick of parties.

Westley E: Yeah right. I’m down for a party. It can be a back to school thing. It’ll also be a good way to get a rebound.

Of course that was all they were thinking about. Rebounds, girls and partying.

They had so many parties at their frat house last year, and had the cops called on them more than once. Bradley wasn’t kidding, he really was getting sick of the partying. He’s here to start his career, not find someone to settle down with when he’s still trying to figure out his life. He’s not here for the parties or the girls or whatever else.

But no one would take him seriously. They never did.

He really couldn’t wait to get out of here.

School starts again tomorrow, and he should really be spending his time getting himself ready and organized for his final year, but he was agreeing to another pointless party.

Bradley B: Fuck it. I’m in.

“Ooh, a party!” Sam says excitedly as she enters your room. You look up from your place on your bed, your hand shoved in a box as you tried to find your notes from last year. “Y/n/n, there’s a party tonight!”

You scoff as you resume your rummaging, not even glancing at her twice once you locate your notes. “Already? School hasn’t even started yet,”

“Yeah, well, you know how college boys are,” she pointed out as she moved to sit across from you. “What do you say? Wanna come to a party with me tonight?”

You look up at her with a blank expression on your face. “Not really,”

Sam rolled her eyes and moved to lay back against your pillows. “Oh, come on,” she whined, typing something on her phone. “You’ve been so moody lately, it’ll be good for you to get out and have fun for once.”

You scoff again and stand up, taking the box with you. “I’ve been moody? Hm, wonder why,” you muttered as you set the box down in your closet. “Maybe we should ask your brother.”

Sam looked up with you, her phone dropping from her hand as she lifted them both up in surrender. “Hey, I had nothing to do with that,” she says and gives you a smile. “Speaking of, when are the two of you going to get back together? I still want you as my sister-in-law one day.”

Shaking your head, you close the closet door and move onto your suitcase. “Yeah, maybe tell your brother to stop acting like a dick and then we’ll see about me becoming your sister,”

“Luke’s always been like that,” she brushed off your words and sat up. “And you still fell in love with him somehow. Come on, you were together all through high school, don’t waste those years just because you two got into a fight.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “I’m not wasting them,” you mumbled. “And it wasn’t just a fight. We want different things right now, that’s it. This break from each other will be good for us.”

Sam lifted a brow and gave you a skeptical look. “So it’s just a break? You’re not broken up?”

“No, we are,” you give her a shrug and a smile. “For now.”

“Then it’s rebound time! Find a hot frat boy at this party tonight and experience someone else for a change,” she suggested and you grimaced at her words. “But don’t do anything more than that. You’re still going to be marrying my brother in the future.”

Then she was pushing you out of the way and tearing through your closet for something you could wear at the party, and you knew you would be fighting a losing battle if you were to decline more than you already have.

What’s one stupid party, anyway?

This is exactly why Bradley didn’t like parties anymore. He wasn’t drunk yet and there were far too many topless girls around for him to be able to think straight.

It wasn’t even twelve yet and the party was completely out of control already. The frat house was big, but it felt way too small with the amount of people that filled every room.

Bradley was holding his third beer of the night when he finally found Eli and Wes. They were in the living room, a girl in between them on the couch as they passed a joint back and forth. “Hey, there he is!” Eli called out as soon as he saw him. “Come here, man.”

Eli pushed on the girl’s shoulder in an attempt to get her to move, and she did with a scoff. Bradley gave her an apologetic smile as she pushed past him before Wes reached forward and tugged on the sleeve of his flannel. “Get down here, dude,” he laughed, holding the joint up once Bradley was sitting beside them.

“Nah, I’m good,” he waved off his friend’s offer of the joint. “I don’t feel like getting high tonight.” Actually, he didn’t feel like getting high ever, and the few times he did was because he was pressured into it by the very two guys beside him.

“Wow,” Eli mumbled as he took the joint instead. “You don’t feel like getting high? Bri really did a number on you, huh?”

Bradley shrugged, bringing the cool bottle up to his lips. “I’m going to get her back,” he repeated what he said over text and turned to Eli when he just laughed.

“Dude, just get over her,”’ he said. “You were with her for so long, what’s left to experience with her?”

Bradley really hated the way his friends talked about girls. It was as if they were just an object to use then discard once they got bored, and Bradley couldn’t ever remember a time when he thought about a girl as just a way to gain experience.

Sure, he wasn’t much of a relationship guy, but he knew how to treat a girl for the most part.

He was sure Bri would laugh if he were to ever say that out loud, though.

“I liked her, Eli,” Bradley muttered as he finished his beer. He was definitely drunk now, or very close to getting there since his eyes were blurring and his head was spinning a bit. “I want her back.”

Eli just scoffed as Wes moved closer. “Why don’t you make her jealous? Have her come crawling back to you?”

Bradley turned his head. “How?”

“I don’t know, man, just…” The blond trailed off as he looked around the packed room. “Pick someone to be your rebound, any girl you think is hot enough, then stay with her until Briana notices you’re not paying attention to her anymore.”

“Right,” Bradley scoffs, then realizes his friend was not joking. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Hell yeah, man,” Wes answered and leaned back as the effects of the weed began to take over his body. “If she sees you with another girl she’ll go crazy. You know how jealous she is.”

Bradley just shook his head and stood up. “I’m not in seventh grade anymore. I’m not doing that,” he announced as he pushed his way through the swarm of people.

“Don’t be such a bitch, Bradshaw!” Eli called out after him but Bradley just shook his head as he held onto the doorframe and scanned the kitchen area.

He was more than a little pissed off now, and being called a bitch didn’t really help. He was half tempted to go up to his room and call it a night, while the other half of him was wanting to turn around and deck Eli square in the face. But the two of them had only recently made up for the last time they got into a physical fight with each other, and Bradley knew that another one would do as much good as the previous one did.

His eyes land on Bri, who was hanging off a guy he’s seen around campus. During the last eleven months she had never given this guy the time of day, and now that she broke things off with Bradley she was all over him.

She had every right to be, but this was Bradley’s fucking house, and she’s his fucking ex, and she looks fucking happy.

He really couldn’t believe the nerve of her.

Without thinking much, and using his three beers as a source of confidence, he made it over to her in four strides. “Bri,” he rasped, glaring at the guy whose name is Jensen. At least he thinks his name is Jensen. “We need to talk.”

Briana laughed and nuzzled further into Jensen’s side. “Didn’t we do enough talking this morning? We’re done, Bradshaw,”

Bradley glared at her then at Jensen again, who only laughed. “Why are you doing this? Huh? Why are you even here?”

“It’s a party, right?” Briana leaned up and wrapped her arm around her date’s shoulders. “Isn’t everyone invited to these things? Come on, Brad. We started off as friends, can’t we go back to that?”

Bradley felt his face heat up in both anger and embarrassment, and he knew he needed to walk away before his fist got the better of him. “Sure,” he answered and gave Jensen one last glare before turning around and pretty much storming back over to his friends. “I’m in. I’ll do it.” He said, making both Eli and Wes look up at him with smirks on their lips.

“Whose house is this?” You ask as Sam pulls you with her and into a mass of sweaty people. If you thought the outside of the house was crowded with people, the inside of it was on a whole different level. Everywhere you looked was taken over by students, and you were sure that this is what a club downtown looks like every Friday night. Maybe even worse.

“I don’t know, but that’s what makes it exciting,” she answered as she guided you into the kitchen.

You strongly disagreed with her on that, and you were quickly finding out that the smell of weed and loud music was not something you wanted to be around during your final few days before classes started again. “This is lame,” you say over the sound of people chatting around you. “Let’s leave.”

Sam scoffed, turning towards you with an eye roll. “We just got here,” she pointed out and looked at the array of booze lined up on the counter. “Live a little.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” You mutter, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hear you very well. Your head was already pounding, and your comfy bed at your dorm was calling out to you right now. Why do you ever bother leaving the house?

“Which one do you want? Vodka or gin?” She asked as she grabbed two red cups.

You raise a brow at her. “Neither,” was your answer and she gave you a pointed look. You sigh and nod at the vodka, watching as she pours an uneven amount of it mixed with coke into the cup.

“Drink up,” she stated as she handed it to you, her own cup in her free hand. “We’re here to have fun.”

You give her a thumbs up and take a sip of the drink that tasted like straight up vodka rather than a vodka mix. “Fuck,” you grimaced and she smirked at you.

“Good, right?”

Wrong. “Right,” you force yourself to nod and move off to the side when someone bumps into you from behind.

“Sorry,” they say, making you turn and meet the eyes of a cute brunet boy.

He definitely was not someone you’d look twice at, but he was nice looking nonetheless.

You weren’t able to wave him off before Sam was reaching around you and tugging on the guy’s shirt. “Tan! You came!”

Tan grins and moves to stand beside the two of you. “Oh, hey. Yeah, I was planning on staying in tonight, then you asked if I wanted to meet you at this party and thought what the hell,”

Your eyes narrow as Sam had definitely forgotten to mention that she had invited a guy to tag along. “How nice,” she beamed, glancing over at you. “This is my roommate, Y/n. Y/n, Tanner.”

Tanner lifted his cup in a form of greeting. “Pleasure to meet you,” though the way he said that gave away the fact that he didn’t care much for your presence at all.

You copy him with your own cup, glaring at Sam as you point towards the dining room area. “I’ll be over there,” you say, hoping she will follow you.

She doesn’t. “Okay, we’ll catch up later!”

And you were left to stay true to your own words as you wandered off into the next room with your too strong of a drink in your hand and a nervous look in your eyes.

“Oh, dude,” Eli nudged Bradley from his spot on the couch. “What about that girl? She’s hot enough.”

Bradley and Wes both look over and see a girl standing in the dining room, her back to the wall as she holds her cup to her chest.

She looked extremely uncomfortable, and Bradley felt a bit bad for her. He couldn’t remember seeing her around campus before, but he also couldn’t see very clearly right now. She was cute, though, he could admit that.

“Damn, I think she’s hotter than Bri,” Wes commented, earning a glare from Bradley. “Not that I think Bri is hot or anything.”

“Shut up,” Bradley muttered as tried to blink away the blurriness in his eyes. He looks over at the girl in the next room, his cold gaze softening just a bit. “She’s not my type.”

Eli scoffed, inhaling his second joint of the night. “She is so your type,”

Bradley rolled his eyes but focused on the girl for a bit. She was actually very cute, dare he say cuter than Bri, but he would never admit that. “She seems easy. I want a challenge,” he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth, and he knew that if his mom was still around she would’ve smacked him upside the head by now.

“Make it a challenge, dude,” Wes suggested, leaning back against the couch with a hazy look.

How could he do that? He just needed to make Bri jealous, that’s it. Why was he wanting to make it harder for himself? Maybe he just wanted to prove that he is someone who can be loved, and that he is someone who can be in a serious relationship. “I can make her fall in love with me,” he thought out loud and instantly regretted it as soon as he saw the look of mischief in Eli’s eyes.

“Dude,” he said as if he was just told the greatest idea he’s ever heard. “You could totally make her fall in love with you.”

“Ah, I like it. Good idea,” Wes agreed, slapping Bradley’s shoulder for further effect.

Bradley’s face fell a bit as he shook his head. “I can’t. I was with Bri for eleven months and she doesn’t give a shit about me. She never fell in love with me,” he tried to talk his way out of his own idea, but his friends seemed fully onboard.

Eli rolled his eyes. “That was Bri, she doesn’t love anyone but herself. If she were to see someone else with you in that way she’ll come crawling back,”

“Yeah, maybe you’ll even get her to stay on her knees,” Wes smirked and Bradley physically cringed. “I bet a thousand dollars on it.”

That had both Bradley and Eli looking over at him in shock. “No shit,” Eli scoffed.

“I will,” Westley says. “We all have it. I’ve got thousands of dollars saved up, Brad’s got his parents’ life insurance and your dad’s rich.”

“I don’t like it,” Bradley mumbled but then Eli grinned.

“I like it,” he said. “Dude, you have to do it now.”

“What am I even doing? I have to make this girl fall in love with me or I lose? I’d have to owe the both of you one grand?” Bradley couldn’t wrap his head around any of this, or how he even managed to come up with this dumb idea in the first place, but he knew it was slipping out of his control at this point.

“Nah, just five hundred each will be fine. You get this chick to love you, and you win a thousand bucks. It’s easy money, Bradshaw,” Wes pushed Bradley up so he was standing. “Do it, man.” He encouraged the cruel bet with a lazy smirk.

Bradley shook his head as he stepped away. “Guys, this seems a bit fucked up,”

“Just do it, man, you came up with this,” Eli muttered. “Don’t be a bitch.”

And now he was once again pissed off. Eli knew he could get under his skin easily, and that was the exact reason they got into a fight during one of the parties they threw last year.

Now Bradley wanted Eli to owe him money. He wanted to be able to hold that above him. He also wanted to hold that above Bri - that she was wrong.

“Fuck off,” Bradley grunted as he walked towards the girl on unsteady legs. He definitely had too much to drink, and he’d like to think that he would’ve never come up with something like this, or even done it, while he was sober.

His head was spinning a bit as he wandered into the dining room, though calling it that was a bit of a stretch since it only held a small round table with four chairs.

What the fuck is he doing? Is he really about to drag a poor innocent girl into his fucked up world and pull a cruel prank on her? He wasn’t that kind of guy. His mother raised him better than this, so why was he now standing in front of said girl?

A slurred, “Hi,” came out of his mouth and she was now looking at him, and it was too late to turn back around.

Her brow raised as she looked up at him, a shy and timid smile on her lips. “Hi,”

Oh, God.

That voice.

She had possibly the sweetest voice Bradley had ever heard, and his mind went blank as he struggled to find words. “I, um,” he stuttered, his face flushing when she grinned up at him. He was usually fucking great at talking to girls, drunk or not, so this was getting kind of embarrassing. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you starting your first year?”

“No, my second,”

“Really?” He asked, placing his forearm flat against the wall beside her head. “Weird…you’d think I would’ve remembered seeing you around campus.”

There he was. At least he got his beloved smooth talking skill back.

The girl hummed. “Yeah, I usually keep to myself. It’s easier that way,”

Bradley lifted a brow and leaned a bit closer. “I’m sorry, I’m being rude,” he said after a few seconds. “I’m Bradley. I live here.”

She looked at him in surprise. “This is your party?”

He nodded and her smile softened a little bit. “Why do you look so surprised?”

She shrugged, hugging her drink close to her chest. “Well, this looks like a frat party, and you definitely look like a frat guy, but…”

He felt his confidence slipping away a bit as he straightened up his posture. “But?”

“You don’t really act like one,” she shrugged and sipped on her drink. Though she tried to hold back a grimace at the taste of the liquid in her cup, Bradley caught onto the fact that she really didn’t like it.

Now he felt even worse since it was obvious she was only drinking as an attempt to fit in.

Bradley furrowed his brows as he raised his free hand and took the cup from her. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked over the loud music, noting the grateful smile she gave him when he discarded the drink onto the table.

“It’s not a bad thing,” she quickly says. “Really, you seem sweet, not loud or arrogant like the other frat guys I’ve met.”

His gaze softened at that and he couldn’t fight the grin that was beginning to form on his lips. He leaned in closer and was met with the sweet scent of vanilla and peach, and if he wasn’t already, he was sure he could get drunk off it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,”

The girl gazed up at him, matching his dumb smile as she answered, “Y/n,”

317 notes · View notes

susiekern · 13 days ago

Text

5. the one on the rooftop

warnings: swearing, suggested sexual activities, two idiots pinning for each other

word count: 1.525

masterlist

There is something liberating about sitting on the rooftop of a twelve-story building. Was it the view of a city by night, cars and people roaming the streets in a hurry, or the thought of the height itself? Megumi wasn't sure. But since he moved in with Yuji, he would come out here every few days to clear his head. Just like tonight.

His mind felt like a battlefield since Yuji texted him, and at first, he just thought he was mad at Yuta for lying. That was it, right? Right?

It had nothing to do with y/n. With how she occupied his mind way too often for his liking. Normally he wouldn't admit just how many times he thought about their first meeting and how he didn't want to come out as harsh as he did. He just forgot that not everyone knows he often speaks like that even to his friends. Not his fault, right?

Then y/n bit back, and he went with it. Because it was easier this way.

That's how he went through life. Keeping his walls high and people at a distance was far easier than maintaining a relationship with them. Making himself vulnerable. Sure, it was lonely at times, but lonely was still better than hurt.

He had his band, three guys who ripped into his life and wouldn't take “no” for an answer. And he had Yuji. A pink sticker that was superglued to him on the first day of high school, and it stayed. They were annoying, some more than others (ekhem Toge ekhem), but Megumi couldn't imagine a day without them. And as annoying as that thought is, he slowly forgets how it was before he met Nobara and y/n.

How these two were best friends was still impressive in his eyes. Kugisaki was straightforward, fierce, and stubborn, she wouldn't accept bullshit from anyone, not even her closest friends. At the same time, she was calm and steady, respecting boundaries and not pushing too hard.

Meanwhile, y/n...

Y/n feels like a challenge. Loud and social, the complete opposite of Megumi, that was stuck on his mind like a damn tattoo. Only in his thoughts would he admit something about her made his heart beat faster. And after last week… fuck. Somewhere between kisses, they both agreed it was going to be a one-time thing to feed their curiosity and needs. Just this one night.

So why does he keep reliving these moments in his mind? Why did he wake up in the middle of the night, after his brain flooded him with images of her naked body under his own? Of how good she looked with lips swollen from heated kisses? Of her legs wrapped tightly around his hips? Why did he keep hearing how she whispered his name, her voice rasping at this point and shaking from what they were doing? Why does he want to taste her again, even for just one kiss?

But physical attraction wasn't the only thing. Megumi caught himself thinking about conversations they had, wondering if he'd say another thing, it wouldn't escalate into an argument. Maybe they could talk for longer, maybe she'd even smile at him like she did at Yuji.

And probably how she was smiling at Yuta right now.

He sighs and lays back to look at the stars.

In those moments on the rooftop, he allowed himself to admit he wished he had left y/n behind his walls instead of pushing her away.

When you came home from the date, you stared at the front door of your apartment for probably 10 minutes. You thought about the flood of questions Nobara would drown you in. And you couldn't find it in you to answer them right now. That's exactly why you now climb the stairs that lead to the roof. How are you supposed to tell your best friend that for the three hours you've spent with Yuta, there was someone else stuck in the back of your head?

The date was nice, truly. Yuta was charming, even with how stressed he was at first. He was polite and sweet, he even offered to explain the displayed pieces, clearly passionate about it. Later you sat at the little cafe near the gallery, talking about… well, about everything. From music and art in general to your families and work. He was genuinely interested in your job as a content creator, and he was sweet about it, even promising he’ll watch the next stream. It was really nice. So why did you keep thinking about your annoying neighbor? Why your body wouldn't react to Yuta’s touch as it reacted to even a dumb look from Megumi?

You’re glad to welcome the cold air when you enter the rooftop, letting it cool down your nerves. You move towards your favorite spot, where the view of the city is perfect, with no taller buildings in the way. That’s when you notice someone else is already there, and your heart falters at the sight of a familiar figure with messy black hair.

“Shit.” Megumi turns his head your way, hearing the curse that left your lips involuntarily. “Sorry, I didn’t know someone would be here.”

He sits up and scratches the back of his neck. Was he nervous? No, you're just imagining things.

“Well, it’s not exactly a private place, and there wasn’t any reservation card anywhere.”

“Right. I’m… um, I’ll just go.” You shake your head and turn around to get back inside.

“Wait!” It stops you mid-step and makes you look at him over your shoulder. “Like I said, it’s not private. You don’t have to go, stay if you want.”

So you do. Sitting near him, you bring your knees to your chest and lean on them, eyes taking in the view. There’s tension in the air as you both sit in silence for a few minutes. Should you say something? Or do you just stay like that? Maybe it’d only annoy him if you talked?

“How was your date?” Fushiguro asks suddenly, saving you from the little dilemma. You look at him confused. “Yuji told me.”

“He truly is a gossip girl.”

You’re trying to find the proper words to answer him without outing yourself in the meantime. ‘I had a great time with an amazing guy, but I can’t stop thinking about your annoying ass and how right it felt to kiss you. Oh, and I want to repeat our one-time night?’ Yeah, that sounds perfect.

“It was… nice. He’s a nice guy, and it was a nice evening.” That works too.

“Nice.”

Yeah, nice.

Silence falls between you again, and you start to wonder what he would say if you told him the truth. That you can’t get rid of the image of his face twisted with pleasure every time you close your eyes at night. That your fingers tingle randomly, longing for the feeling of brushing through his soft hair. That you miss the taste of his lips on yours. Would he laugh at how pathetic it is? Or maybe, just maybe, he would kiss you again, the same way he did in the backseat of the Uber that night?

“Yuta is a great guy.” His voice pulls you back from your little fantasy, and you can feel your cheeks heating up. There’s no way he wants you like you want him, right? Wait.

“You know him?” You look at Megumi with furrowed brows, again.

“We’re friends. I’ve met him around the same time I’ve met Yuji, so it’s been a while.” There’s a small smile on his lips when he nods, and you can’t help but look at it for a few seconds. It’s not a common sight to see him actually smile, not smirk.

“Shut up. How did you guys meet?”

For the next hour or so, you sit on the rooftop, surrounded by only cold air and the faint glow of the city lights that manage to reach up here, talking. Not fighting, not pushing each other’s patience with stupid comments. Talking about how you both met your friends, remembering stories from high school that involve them, and laughing at awkward moments. Like when Megumi walked in on his friend Toge with a girl in the locker room, the poor girl almost died from embarrassment, or how Nobara exposed her cheating ex to all of his four girlfriends. There’s even a sappy part when you share how she helped you after your biggest heartbreak, and Megumi tells you about the group intervention the boys assembled after his first girlfriend left him for an older guy and he refused to leave his dorm room for a week.

For this hour or so, there’s no hostility between you, and you can’t help but regret it wasn’t like that from the start. The smile that’s stuck on your face for the whole time stays there even after you both go back inside and to your apartments. It’s also there when, two days later, you climb up to the rooftop and find Megumi with a blanket and two beers, ready to continue the talk.

tag list: @nytylie

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misshoneyimhome · 8 days ago

Note

Since it’s Christmas season, Inexperienced reader felt like being a brat and wanted to test William’s patience with Alex living with them and family coming to visit she decided she wanted to be on the naughty list. She decided her to leave her panties and little pictures of herself and leave in his suite case, car, and his space in the locker room to remind him what’s he’s missing after she’s his good girl but sometimes she’s needs a reminder who’s in charge.

Happy holidays, love! 🥰

To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure how this piece would turn out, but I decided to just go with the flow 🙈🎄 Because, of course, Inexperienced!reader and Willy deserve both a loving and slightly naughty Christmas 😘💋

I hope you enjoy this little chapter, and once again, happy holidays to everyone! Sending you all lots of love ❤️

Tropes & warnings: 18+ smut, Inexperienced!reader x Willy, naughty photoshoot, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, sex toy (magic wand), unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside

Word count: 3.8K

➼｡ﾟ

A Nonsense Christmas I Inexperienced!reader x Willy

The sound of holiday classics drifted softly through the apartment as you straightened a sprig of mistletoe over the kitchen threshold. Outside, snow dusted the city, blanketing everything in a hush. Inside, fairy lights twinkled, gifts waited under the tree, and the scent of cinnamon and pine wafted through every room. It was Christmas season—cosy, lovely, and oh so warm. But beneath all that sugary sweetness, you’d decided to stir up something a little spicy.

You’d caught wind of his photoshoot—William’s—just last week. A sleek magazine spread had left your cheeks warm, your heart fluttering, cunt dripping, and a wicked little idea forming in your mind. After over a year together, this was your chance to be a holiday tease, to see what happened when you tested William’s patience in your own cheeky, festive way. You wanted to be his good girl, truly you did, but sometimes a holiday needed a little naughtiness to make it truly memorable.

The apartment you shared with William was a merry chaos this December. Family was due to arrive in a few days—parents, siblings, a few cousins—and Alex, his brother, was already living with you both for a while. The space was full of laughter, good food, and the comfortable bustle of the holidays. But it also meant privacy was scarce, and that made your plan all the more thrilling. If William wanted to stay calm and collected, well, you were about to see just how far you could push him.

You started small. The first surprise was a pair of delicate, lacy red panties, tucked subtly into his training bag before he left for practice. When he opened it to grab a spare hoodie, he’d find that little gift waiting, a silent, provocative message. You imagined his face—slightly flushed, brows raised, that crooked smirk tugging at his lips—wondering what you were up to.

Later that afternoon, while he was gone, you dressed up in a dark green satin robe trimmed with faux white fur at the collar—festive, yet undeniably sensual. Underneath, the lingerie set you’d chosen—a daring dark red number—hugged your curves. You adjusted your phone’s timer and took a few playful selfies in front of the Christmas tree: a suggestive tilt of your hips, a knowing smile, the twinkle of lights across your bare skin. These photos were just for him. The playlist on your phone danced through holiday tunes, and right then, “A Nonsense Christmas” hummed softly, the silly, flirtatious lyrics fuelling your courage. If William’s shoot had inspired you, your own was going to leave him speechless.

You picked the best snapshot, printed it out, and placed it in a tiny envelope adorned with a candy cane sticker. That evening, when you knew he’d head out to his car to pick up Alex from wherever he’d wandered off to, he’d find that photo carefully slipped inside the glove compartment, waiting like a secret treat.

And you didn’t stop there. The next morning, while humming under your breath and sipping cocoa, you snuck into the closet where his game day suit hung. His locker room routine was sacred and placing another little Polaroid—and a pair of black lace panties—tucked inside his jacket pocket would guarantee that when he got to the match, he’d have a reminder of exactly what he was missing at home. It was risky, but that was the point. You wanted him thinking about you while trying to keep a straight face around the guys. Would he blush? Would he grin? You could almost see him pressing his lips together to hide a smirk as he discovered your latest surprise.

By the time the evening rolled around, you’d delivered those three gifts—training bag, car, and suit jacket—and you knew William’s patience was fraying beautifully. His texts had become peppered with suggestive hints and thinly veiled threats like, “Just wait until we’re alone, älskling,” and, “You’re playing with fire.” And when he came home after the third discovery, you caught a glimpse of something dark and wanting in his gaze before Alex burst in from the kitchen, cheerfully oblivious.

That night, after Alex yawned and went to his room, you found yourself finally alone with William in the dim glow of the Christmas tree’s lights in the living room. Your heart fluttered when he approached you, every step controlled, his eyes locked onto yours.

“What,” he asked softly, voice dripping with amusement and frustration, “do you think you’re doing?”

You batted your lashes, feigning innocence. “Spreading holiday cheer?” you offered sweetly. You were again in that festive robe, tied just loosely enough that he could see the barest hint of something lacy beneath. You watched his gaze drop there, then return to your face, a slow grin forming.

“You’re testing me, aren’t you?” he said, his voice low, his accent more pronounced than usual. “First my bag, then the car, and now… the game day suit, really?” His tone was incredulous, but also thrilled. He loved this side of you, the secret part of you that dared to be bold for him.

You shrugged, lips curving. “Just wanted you to remember who you’re coming home to. Maybe I wanted to make sure you keep your head in the game. Maybe I wanted to imagine how you’d look trying not to blush in front of your teammates.”

He stepped closer, catching your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. “You’ve been very naughty,” he murmured, and heat pooled in your belly. “Leaving your panties and pictures everywhere—did you think I wouldn’t take my time teaching you a lesson when we’re finally alone?”

Your breath caught, words momentarily failing you. This was exactly what you wanted: the push and pull, the playful tension, the promise of a delightful punishment for your mischief. You arched a brow, still holding onto that last shred of bravado. “Who says I don’t like lessons?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and placed a firm hand on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I guess we’ll find out.” His breath was warm against your neck as he leaned in, trailing the faintest of kisses along your jaw. “You know what happens to brats at Christmas, don’t you?”

Your heart pounded. “They get coal?” you teased, grinning.

A wicked glint appeared in his eyes. “Oh, you’ll get something better than coal,” he promised softly. “I’m going to remind you exactly who’s in charge here.”

The surge of heat and excitement that washed over you was undeniable. You were craving this; the rush of his reaction, the tender but authoritative way he planned to show you your place in the best possible way. You had learned quickly how to push his buttons—and how gladly he would answer.

Slowly, he guided you further into the shadowed intimacy of the living room, the soft glow of the Christmas tree casting flickering patterns across his face. The faint scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air, but all you could really focus on was him—his steady grip on your waist, his breath warm against your skin, the way he commanded the space without even trying.

“Better than coal, huh?” you murmured, trying to keep a hint of that playful confidence, your hands steadying yourself against his chest. Your voice sounded breathier than you intended, your pulse thrumming in your ears.

His fingers toyed with the edge of your robe’s sash, knuckles grazing your belly. “Oh, much better,” he assured you, words rolling out in that low, accented purr that made your toes curl. “You’ve been pushing me, älskling. Leaving me those little surprises—in front of my teammates…” His tone turned wry. “Do you know how hard it was to keep a straight face in front of the guys? Making sure they weren’t looking over my shoulder…”

A shiver danced along your spine as you imagined him discovering your naughty gifts, struggling to hide his reaction. The thrill of it surged inside you again. “I just wanted to keep you on your toes,” you said softly, tilting your head back as his body pressed closer.

He hummed, and the sound vibrated through you. “You wanted to fucking taunt me,” he murmured, slipping one finger under the robe’s tie, pulling it loose with languid precision. “To see what I’d do when you kept teasing, kept tempting, kept acting like a brat…” He paused, the robe falling open just enough to show the lacy lingerie underneath. His gaze darkened as it swept over what you’d chosen—something festive, black, so very sheer. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You swallowed, your breath catching as his fingers skimmed along the curve of your breast, just above the lace. “Maybe,” you whispered. “Depends on what you have planned.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending another rush of heat through your veins. “Such a brave little thing,” he said, tilting your chin up again so that your eyes met his. “Don’t worry. I won’t disappoint you.”

In that gentle light, he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a slow, claiming kiss. His hand slipped lower, curling over your hip, drawing you against his body so you could feel exactly how much your antics had affected him. You gasped into his mouth when he pressed closer, the friction making your head spin, as your hands instinctively grabbed his shoulders.

“Since you wanted to show me what I’m missing,” he murmured between kisses, “it’s only fair I return the favour—show you just what happens when you push me too far.” His breath was hot against your ear now, his voice a low rumble that made your knees weaken. “We have all night. Which means I can take my time.” He let that sink in before trailing his lips along your jaw, down your neck, making you arch into him.

You were trembling, caught somewhere between daring him on and melting under his touch. Your bravado faltered as his hand trailed upward along your thigh, slipping beneath the silky robe to explore the lace edges of your lingerie. Every subtle shift of his body, every quiet hum of approval, reminded you that you were no longer in control—if you ever really had been. You’d handed over the reins the moment you decided to test his patience.

He coaxed your legs apart just enough so he could press closer, each subtle movement deliberate and sure. “So,” he said, voice low, “do you think you’ll be leaving little presents like that again without expecting payback?”

Your heart fluttered wildly as you remembered the naughty photos, the panties hidden away. You thought of his flushed cheeks when he found them, the way he must have scolded himself silently, waiting until the moment he could have you alone like this. “I—” You tried to form a witty comeback, but all that came out was a shaky breath and a quiet moan as he skimmed his fingers lightly against the lace covering your core.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to see your face. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and something warmer—affection, pride, maybe even amusement at how easily he had unravelled you. “That’s what I thought,” he said softly. His thumb stroked over your hipbone, soothing and possessive all at once. “You’re mine tonight, älskling. All mine. And I’m going to make sure you remember exactly what that means.”

He claimed your mouth again, this time deeper, hungrier. The kiss tugged you into a haze of sensation, each slide of his tongue coaxing you away from any clever remark you might have made. A small shrug of his shoulder and your robe slipped free, floating to the floor. William’s soft, appreciating groan told you he enjoyed the view you’d curated just for him—festive, tempting, and just a touch bratty.

Without a word, he then hooked an arm under your thighs and another around your back, lifting you effortlessly. The room spun briefly as he carried you into the bedroom, and in the gentle glow of the holiday lights from down the hall, he tossed you onto the bed. The mattress dipped under your weight, springs sighing softly.

He surveyed you with hungry eyes, your chosen lingerie swiftly becoming a tattered memory scattered on the floor. The lace he’d just ripped away lay abandoned, and you could feel your pulse hammering at the base of your throat, both shocked and thrilled by his boldness. The way he’d smirked, the way he’d said “Oops” without an ounce of regret—it all sent a delicious shiver down your spine. He was completely unapologetic, and that made your stomach flip with excitement.

“Don’t worry, I’ll replace it,” he promised, voice rich and low, like he was thinking of all the ways he could compensate you—maybe with something even skimpier, more luxurious.

Your cheeks warmed at the thought, heart racing as you realised, he was already plotting future moments like this one. His fingers slid over your exposed skin, his touch deliberate and slow, a calculated assault on your senses. His knuckles grazed over your stomach, then dipped along your ribs, brushing the underside of your breast so lightly it made you arch for more. He never rushed, never forced, but he knew exactly where and how to touch you until you were squirming, trying to keep quiet with Alex asleep just down the hall.

The tension of maintaining silence only heightened your arousal. Every time you let out a stifled moan, William’s smirk deepened, satisfied with your struggle. He was taking pleasure in this secret game—knowing he had you at his mercy, that you had no choice but to stifle your cries into the pillows. The illicit thrill of it all tingled through your veins.

When his kisses trailed down your abdomen, each press of his lips and rasp of stubble sending sparks skittering along your nerves, you struggled to keep your breathing steady. He paused at your hipbone, letting his warm breath fan over that sensitive spot, before moving lower. The anticipation tightened in your chest, and when his mouth finally found the slick, heated place between your thighs, you nearly bit through your bottom lip.

He was merciless in the best way—gentle yet relentless, circling your clit with agonizing precision, his tongue working in tandem with a deft finger that simultaneously curled inside you. Your entire body sang with tension, thighs trembling as you tried desperately not to cry out. He played you like an instrument, each lick and stroke tuned to your soft gasps and whimpers. The orgasm built so quickly it shocked you, pleasure cresting like a sudden, rolling wave you couldn’t outrun. You pulled the pillow to cover your face, burying yourself into it and muffling the sharp, desperate sound that escaped as you came. William groaned appreciatively, the vibration making you shudder as you rode out the pulses of ecstasy, gripping the sheets for some sense of grounding.

When he pulled away, your thighs still shook, your breath choppy. A soft whimper of protest escaped you at the loss, and he just chuckled under his breath. It was a dark, amused sound, as if he’d barely begun to play with you and had so much more in store.

So, naturally, he reached over to the bedside table, retrieving something you hadn’t expected tonight—the good old magic wand. Your eyes went wide at the sight of it, fear and excitement tangling in your chest as you realised how easily he could push you over the edge again. Your mouth opened, a little plea escaping before you could stop it.

And he answered you only by pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, an almost tender gesture, before turning on the toy. The soft hum filled your ears, as he moved it to your swollen, sensitive clit. You jerked at the contact; the wand’s vibrations already too intense after your first orgasm.

William kept going, though, eyes fixed on your face as you buried it into the pillow again, desperate to stay quiet. The sensation soared through you at dizzying speed, and in what felt like seconds, another release claimed you—this one sharper, more demanding. You clenched around nothing, toes curling tight, a muffled cry caught in your throat as you came once more. The sheets beneath you were soaked, and you knew it only spurred William on.

As you breathed out heavily, William finally set the wand aside, looking smug as ever, while you tried to catch your breath. Your body hummed with aftershocks, limbs heavy and pliant.

Now it was his turn. As he practically tore and tossed his own clothes aside, your eyes followed down to the bulge straining against his boxers, his desire evident. He stood at the foot of the bed and shed the last bit of fabric in one fluid motion, his cock standing hard and flushed, ready for you. But you knew he wouldn’t just hand it over. He wanted you to work for it—wanted to see that you were just as eager to please him as he was to break your composure.

“Come here,” he said softly, voice holding that firm edge that made your stomach tighten. Still trembling, you moved onto all fours, grateful your arms held you steady after those two overwhelming climaxes. He guided you with a gentle hand in your hair, bringing you close to him.

And instinctively, you opened, hollowed your cheeks and welcomed him into your mouth, determined to make him lose some of that smug control. He groaned low in his throat when you swirled your tongue just right, and you felt a surge of pride at the sound. Each muffled hiss of pleasure was a victory, proof that you could unravel him too.

“Good girl,” he praised, voice roughened by pleasure. That phrase sent warmth spilling through you, made your heart flutter. You knew he loved having you like this, compliant and dedicated, yet still carrying that spark of mischief that had started this whole game.

But then, with a gentle push, he instructed you to turn around, urging you to press your cheek into the pillow, your knees sinking into the mattress as you raised your ass for him. The anticipation was maddening. He knelt behind you, one large hand on your hip, the other skimming down your spine. You let out a quiet gasp when he brushed his thumb over you other entrance, just a hint of pressure that made you whimper. He didn’t push further, only reminding you who held all the cards.

Then, finally, he filled you up with a powerful thrust, claiming you with a sure, steady movement. The fullness made you moan softly, muffled by the pillow. He set a slow rhythm; each inward push followed by a careful withdrawal that left you aching for more. With each roll of his hips, he angled himself just right, brushing sensitive spots that made your vision blur.

Occasionally, he applied a hint more pressure with his thumb against that other, tighter place, not entering. It sent electricity through your nerves, reminding you just how easily he could control your pleasure.

Your muffled cries and soft whimpers were a soundtrack he savoured. He leaned over you, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder blades, murmuring your name like a prayer. The bed creaked softly beneath you, the scent of sex and the faint pine of the Christmas tree drifting through the apartment. You were both keenly aware that Alex slept down the hall—that, in the morning, family would fill this space with laughter and cheer. But right now, it was just the two of you, lost in this secret, intimate world of desire and trust.

William pressed in deeper, his body trembling with the effort of keeping his pace steady. The world beyond the bedroom door seemed to recede, the faint glow of Christmas lights under the doorframe the only hint of the festive setting outside. In that moment, nothing mattered except the heat of his skin against yours, the glide of sweat at the small of your back, the sounds and scents that wrapped around you both like a secret.

Your cries, half-stifled by the pillow you bit into, were music to his ears. You arched under him, toes curling into the mattress, the duvet bunching beneath your knees. You could feel him shudder, could almost taste how desperately he wanted to let go.

“Fuck, baby,” he panted, voice tight, on the edge of control. His grip on your hips tightened, fingertips pressing into your flesh. He angled himself just right, each deep thrust fanning the flames inside you both. You answered with a choked moan, head turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to remain as silent as possible.

He whispered your name once more, voice cracking with need. “Mmm, I’m gonna fucking come,” he groaned, as if confessing a secret sin. You could hear the strain, feel the tension coiling in his muscles as he hovered at the brink. Each ragged breath he took warmed the skin of your back. The slick sound of your bodies meeting and the rich scent of sex filled your senses.

And when he finally surrendered, it was with a shudder that racked his entire frame. He buried himself as deep as he dared, spilling hot and thick inside you, voice reduced to a strangled gasp of relief and pleasure. The force of his climax echoed through you, every aftershock rippling against your quivering muscles. He stayed like that for a heartbeat longer, body slumped, forehead resting between your shoulder blades, his breath hitching as he tried to steady himself.

For a few moments, neither of you moved, too wrapped up in the haze of post-climax bliss. Your heart pounded, your limbs heavy, as you savoured the sensation of being utterly claimed. Then, as the urgency faded to a gentle hum, he withdrew carefully, easing you onto your side. The sudden coolness of the room’s air against your heated skin made you shiver, and he was quick to pull a cover over you both, sealing you together in warmth and comfort.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his voice a soft, affectionate murmur that contrasted with the raw desperation of moments before. Outside this room, the world waited; snow falling silently, Christmas approaching with all its family chaos and bright laughter. But for right now, in the lingering scent of sex, you were two souls bound by secrecy, pleasure, and trust.

A quiet chuckle escaped him, low and fond. He brushed damp hair from your face, fingers lingering in the curve of your jaw. “I love you so fucking much” he whispered, as if afraid to break the spell. “Thanks for all the little surprises.”

You turned, meeting his gaze, the corner of your mouth lifting in a lazy, sated smile. “I love you too, Willy. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

#my asks #inexperienced!reader x Willy #wn88 imagine #william nylander fanfiction #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey fic

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genshinluvr · 2 years ago

Text

Attached to the Hips

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You thought you were a clingy lover until these men came into your life. You and the men are attached to the hip, and they will follow you everywhere you go.

Note: Finals week is approaching and I'm debating whether I should write a shorter fic for that week or not. I have essays to type out and over fifty terms to study for Greek and Latin. As someone with terrible memory, I'm going to need to rewrite those terms and go review them over and over until I remember most of it. So, next week's Genshin fic will probably be a mini-fic and the fic I'll be writing during my finals week will probably be around 5k words or less. It depends, really. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of 🤔

Word Count: 7.9k

You’re a clingy lover, and you’re not ashamed of being one. Despite being a clingy lover, that doesn’t mean you don’t respect your boyfriends’ boundaries, nor do you cling to them in public like a sticker. You can give them space and not have to be attached to their hips 24/7. Now, you thought you were the clingiest person in the relationship, but these twenty-five men proved you wrong.

The first thing you feel when you wake up in bed is that it’s really hot. Your bedroom is cold, but for some reason, your body feels uncomfortably hot. So you kicked your blanket mountain off your body, watching the blankets roll off your bed. You turn to your side, only to see Childe clinging to you while smiling at you sleepily. Archons, he looks so cute with his bedhead. But why is he in your bedroom?

You stare at Childe and blink at him sleepily. “Childe, why are you in my room?” You ask, voice raspy from the lack of use.

Childe doesn’t reply and scoots closer to you, pressing his cheek against yours with a sigh of contentment. “Good morning, snookums! I hope you slept well last night! Well, you didn’t need to tell me since you were snoring and drooling all over your pillow,” Childe snickers.

Your face heats up after hearing Childe’s response. Childe reaches over and wipes the stream of semi-dried drool from the corner of your lips and on your cheek. You swat Childe’s hands away from your face before sitting up, bringing the ginger with you. Childe continues to have his arms wrapped around your body, resting his cheek on your head.

“Were you in my room all night? You still have a bedhead,” you say, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.

Childe shakes his head. “Not all night! I crawled into your bed in the middle of the night, actually!” Childe replies.

“Yeah, well, you need to let me go so I can go to the bathroom to get ready for the day,” you say, trying to pry Childe’s arm off you.

Childe frowns and shakes his head, tightening his grip around you. After a few minutes of struggling to pry him off, you let your arms fall to your side with a sigh of defeat. Childe grins with victory before resting his head on your shoulders, nuzzling into your neck. You end up brushing your teeth with Childe by your side, his arms wrapping around your waist while his chest is pressing up against your back.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth, Childe. You don’t want to walk around the estate with smelly breath, now, do you?” You tease after rinsing your mouth.

Childe quickly releases you from his clutch before covering his mouth and checking his breath. Childe clears his throat and looks away, his cheeks flushing red. You snort and squat to the sink cabinet and pull out an extra toothbrush for Childe to use. Since Childe refuses to leave you alone, you might as well let him use the spare toothbrush. Childe gives you a grateful smile before grabbing the toothpaste to start brushing his teeth.

You weren’t surprised that Childe is clingy when it comes to you. Childe was immediately attached to you by the hips since day one of your being in Teyvat. Plus, he was also the first one to greet you and make you feel welcome. While Childe is brushing his teeth, you take that chance and leave the bathroom to return to your bedroom.

That’s when you see Itto standing there with his hands on his hips with a wide smile on his face. “Good morning, onikabuto booboo bear! I hope you slept well!” Itto says, skipping up to you before throwing his arms around your shoulders and planting a big kiss on your cheek.

You smile and turn your head to kiss his cheek in return while rubbing his back. You release Itto, but the Oni continues to keep his arms around your waist. You sigh and shake your head, fighting back a smile. Right, how could you forget about Itto being the second clingiest person next to Childe? Then again, your twenty-five boyfriends are clingy in their own way, and you’re not complaining one bit. Unless it’s sweltering outside and you and whichever man are sweating, making your skin stick to each other.

“You’re awfully clingy today,” you comment, running your fingers through Itto’s hair.

Itto hums and kisses your cheek again. “I saw that Childe’s room was empty, and I knew he would be with you. So, I decided to come over to check, and I was right!” Itto says, pointing an accusing finger at Childe, who just stepped out of your bathroom.

You playfully roll your eyes and gesture for the two men to follow you downstairs for breakfast. Childe grabs Itto by the hair and pulls Itto off you; Itto yelps in pain and glares at Childe, who smirks in response. You cross your arms over your chest, staring at the two men before you while tapping your foot on the ground. It’s way too early to deal with Childe and Itto fighting over you. You would think you’d get used to it by now, but every day is something new.

“Boys, please, it’s eight in the morning. Can we please go downstairs and get something to eat for breakfast? I’m hungry,” you sigh.

Childe and Itto quickly fix their composure before standing at your side, looping their arms around yours while glaring at each other over your head. You shake your head and walk out of your bedroom with Itto and Childe by your side.

As you, Childe, and Itto get to the last step on the staircase, you hear one of the men call out from where they’re sitting.

“And there they are! Finally awake and clinging to [Y/N]’s side, as per usual!” Heizou announces dramatically. “Must be nice to wake up to two men already needing attention from [Y/N]. How does it feel, [Y/N]?” Heizou looks at you curiously.

You roll your eyes and unloop your arms from Itto and Childe’s arms. “You know, I would agree, but dealing with their bickering at eight in the morning is something you don’t want to deal with,” you reply, sitting across from Tighnari.

Aether snorts and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised that Itto and Childe are already clinging to [Y/N] at eight in the morning,” says Aether, cutting his pancakes before shoving the slice of pancake into his mouth. “But for some reason, I am.”

Childe and Itto shoot glares at one another before parting ways to sit at their respective seats at the dining table. You begin digging into your breakfast, humming with delight the minute food touches your tongue. Cyno reaches over and wipes the corner of your mouth with a cloth napkin, the corners of his lips curving upward.

“You’re quite hungry, aren’t you?” Cyno asks, resting his arm on the table.

You nod. “Oh, I am. I have never woken up so hungry before until today.” You reply.

Cyno scoots his chair closer to you while you continue to dig into your food, not realizing the lack of distance between your and Cyno’s seats. However, the other men stopped eating and stared at Cyno. Kaveh clears his throat and casually scoots closer to you, practically sandwiching you between him and Cyno.

Kaveh notices Al Haitham’s eye twitching at the sight of him sitting close to you. Kaveh smirks and turns to look at you, propping his left arm on the table before tapping you on the shoulder. You hold up your index finger, telling Kaveh to give you a moment. You reach for the cloth napkin and wipe your mouth before looking over in Kaveh’s direction.

“Yes?” You say, swallowing your breakfast with the napkin still covering your lips.

Kaveh smiles at you and strokes your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear after. You stare at Kaveh, confused about what he’s up to. Kaveh leans down and presses a big kiss on your cheek before turning to look at the other men—mainly Al Haitham, with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You nudge Kaveh to get his attention. Kaveh looks at you and rests his head on his bicep, giving you the softest smile you’ve seen today. You feel your face turn hot before looking at the plate in front of you. Kaveh reaches for your face, grabs you by the chin, and makes you look at him.

“Do you know how happy you make me?” Kaveh asks, squeezing your chin lightly.

You clear your throat. “I’m surprised you haven’t called me an Abyss mage yet,” you say, grabbing the hand that was squeezing your chin.

Kaveh snorts before interlocking his fingers with yours, giving your hand a squeeze. “You’re the cutest Abyss mage to have existed. I bet if you were to be an Abyss mage, you’d be the fluffiest one of all,” Kaveh says, grinning at you.

Cyno snorts and rolls his eyes. “I would take that as an offense if I were you. Abyss mages are annoying creatures,” Cyno says nonchalantly before taking a sip of his water.

You look at Cyno with your mouth agape before turning to look at Kaveh. “Does that mean I’m as annoying as those Abyss mages?” you ask.

Kaveh makes a ‘so-so’ gesture in response. Your face scrunches up before you pull your hand out from Kaveh’s grasp, continuing to eat your breakfast. Once you finished your breakfast, you got up from your seat to go wash your dishes. When you disappear into the kitchen, Al Haitham starts giving Kaveh an earful while Tighnari tells Cyno off for saying that Abyss mages are annoying creatures.

“I mean, Cyno’s not wrong. The hydro and cryo ones are the most annoying,” Dottore comments, wiping his lips with the cloth napkin.

Tighnari sighs and glares at Dottore. “Even if that’s the case, it’s like Cyno is implying that [Y/N] is as annoying as the Abyss mages,” replies Tighnari, rubbing his temples with a sigh. “You better apologize to [Y/N] later, mister!” Tighnari says, pointing an accusing finger at the Mahamatra.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, while you’re scrubbing the stubborn stains on the plate, you feel someone wrap their arms around your waist. You turn your head to see Thoma standing behind you while smiling at you. You smile at Thoma in return before continuing where you left off.

“This thing is so annoying. I don’t get how you don’t get frustrated with these stains sometimes,” you mutter, scrubbing the dried food spot with vigor.

Thoma plants a kiss on the side of your neck before reaching for the sponge in your hand. At least, that’s what you assumed Thoma was going to do, but in reality, he places his hand over yours to show you how to properly get the stain off the dish. It wasn’t doing anything. You knew Thoma wanted to hold your hand and be close to you like the others. Not that you’re complaining and are against it, really. But you would prefer Thoma to do it when your hands aren’t submerged in water.

“I love being close to you. Did you know that?” Thoma murmurs against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

You lean into Thoma’s touch and turn around to face him. “I didn’t know that, actually! Wanna show me?” You tease, wiping your hand on the sink cloth.

Thoma dries his hand on the rag before tilting your head up and pressing his lips against yours, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. You grab Thoma by the collar of his shirt and pull him closer to you to the point where there’s no space between your bodies. The kitchen door creaking open forces you and Thoma apart, looking at the person who’s standing at the kitchen entrance.

“Oh! Hey, Dottore, what are you doing here?” Thoma asks, rubbing the back of his neck as heat rushes to his face.

Dottore narrows his eyes at Thoma before walking to the sink and putting his bowl in the sink. After he puts his bowl into the sink, Dottore turns to look at you and Thoma, feigning a disapproving look while crossing his arms over his chest.

Dottore chuckles. “Don’t you two think it’s a bit too early to be showing that much public display of affection in the kitchen of the estate? Anyone can walk in on you two at any moment aside from myself, of course,” Dottore says, sighing dramatically.

You snort and give Dottore a cheeky grin. “You wish you were in Thoma’s spot, huh?” You tease, sticking your tongue out at him.

Dottore narrows his eyes at you underneath his mask before squeezing your nose hard. You groan and swat at his hands. You rub your nose and mumble incoherent words to yourself. While you hate to admit it, it was your fault for teasing Dottore that way. Maybe next time, you’ll make it worse for yourself by not letting the man get close to you until he apologizes (after you reluctantly apologize to Dottore for teasing him). Thoma glares at Dottore and walks you out of the kitchen, leaving Dottore behind.

Usually, after breakfast, you would get ready for school. But since you’re on summer break, you have decided to job shadow your beloved boyfriends! If they’re okay with it, and it seems like most of them are okay with it, aside from the Harbingers. Which is understandable because they don’t want you to witness the things they do as Harbingers, and quite frankly, you’re okay with that!

You’re sitting in Diluc’s office at Dawn Winery, watching the man fill out paperwork and organize his desk. You didn’t have a task assigned by Diluc. The only thing he told you to do is just sit back and relax. Which is something you’re trying to do, but you can’t help but admire the way he looks while he’s working. Diluc’s fiery red hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, his coat is draped over his leather seat, and the sleeves of his button-up shirt are rolled to his elbows while he’s signing a few documents for the winery.

A strand of red hair falls over his eyes, causing him to stop writing on the paper. Diluc stares at the strand of hair for a minute before blowing it away from his face. You hug a cushion to your chest and continue to stare at the redhead. The pen scratching against the document stops, and he looks up, the two of you making eye contact. You quickly look away, acting like you weren’t staring at him just a few seconds ago.

Diluc places his pen on the table before getting up from his seat. Your eyes widen as he walks in your direction, completely abandoning the documents that need his attention. Diluc stops before you, his legs brushing against yours as he reaches for your face, grabs you by your chin, and turns your head so you can look at him.

When Diluc turns your head to face his direction, your eyes wander somewhere else. Diluc sighs and bends down so his face can be in front of yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, fighting back the shit-eating grin that is making its way up your face. You feel a sharp pinch on your cheek, making you groan and crack your eyes open to see an unamused Diluc staring down at you. You rub the now throbbing area on your cheek, pouting to yourself. A faint smile appears on Diluc’s face before he caresses your cheek, stroking the jutting lip with his thumb.

“Why are you pouting at me, hmm?” Diluc murmurs, raising an eyebrow at you.

You move your face out of Diluc’s grasp and rest your head on the cushion you’re holding against your chest. “You know why,” you mumble.

Diluc shakes his head, an amused smile appearing. “No, no, I don’t know why you’re pouting at me,” replies Diluc.

You and Diluc continue to have a staring contest with each other. Diluc keeps looking down at your pouty lips, squinting at them. “If you continue to pout like that, I’m going to kiss your pout away.”

You look at Diluc with wide eyes before pressing your lips in a thin line. Diluc snorts and leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You wanted to resist so bad, but you loved the feeling of Diluc’s lips against yours. Technically, you love feeling your lips press against the other men’s lips too, but Diluc has the softest lips out of all the men.

You don’t know how long you and Diluc have been kissing, but the kiss was interrupted by the door to Diluc’s office opening. Diluc quickly breaks the kiss and turns to see who has entered the room, only to see that the person stepping into the office is none other than Kaeya. Diluc huffs and gets off the ground, walking back to his desk.

Kaeya chuckles, shaking his head. “My, my, distracted from your duties, are we?” asks Kaeya, raising his eyebrows at Diluc.

You speak up, “Hey! He was taking a much-needed break from work!”

Kaeya turns to you before strutting over in your direction. Kaeya stops in front of you and pulls you up from your seat. Kaeya strokes your cheek and smiles, kissing your forehead. You blink at Kaeya, then peek over at Diluc, who is silently fuming that his brother ruined the moment between you and him.

“And what you’re doing is considered a break for Master Diluc?” Kaeya teases, lightly booping your nose.

You nod robotically, making Kaeya chuckle. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around Kaeya’s waist and bury your face into Kaeya’s chest. Kaeya wraps his arms around your shoulders and looks at Diluc from over his shoulders with a smug smirk on his face. Diluc narrows his eyes at Kaeya before walking toward the two of you.

Your voice is muffled against Kaeya’s chest, “My dream is to be sandwiched between Kaeya Alberich and Diluc Ragnvindr. I call it the fire and ice combo.” You look up at Kaeya, who laughs while cupping your cheeks, backing you up against someone.

You freeze in Kaeya’s arms and slowly tilt your head back as far it can go, only to make eye contact with an unamused upside-down Diluc. You blink at the redhead before quickly turning to look at Diluc, only to make yourself dizzy and stumble a bit. Diluc and Kaeya grasp one of your arms and steadies you.

“Anyway! Uh, Kaeya! What are you doing here at Dawn Winery?” You ask.

Kaeya opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a knock coming from the door. The door cracks open, and Adelinde peeks her head into the room. Diluc takes a step from you before gesturing for Adelinde to enter. She gives Diluc a small smile before entering with a document in her hand.

Adelinde clears her throat. “Apologies for interrupting your… conversation. You have another document to sign, Master Diluc,” Adelinde says.

Diluc’s ears turn red after hearing Adelinde’s comment. Diluc takes the envelope that contains the document from Adelinde’s hand before dismissing her. After Adelinde exits Diluc’s office, Diluc tosses the envelope on the table before turning to look at you and Kaeya.

Kaeya sighs before turning to you. “I guess this is my cue to leave. I do have some business to tend to at the Knights of Favonious headquarters,” says Kaeya.

You nod. “Okay! I’ll see you later back at the estate!” You say, waving to him as he’s about to leave.

Kaeya leans down and presses a brief kiss on your lips before exiting the office after nodding to Diluc on his way out. After the door closes behind Kaeya, Diluc sits in the leather chair at his desk, running his hands through his hair as he looks at the documents. You walk over to Diluc and wrap your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin on his shoulders while Diluc begins to sign each paper laid out in front of him.

Just when you thought you were going to get the sandwich you wanted, you thought wrong. Maybe next time won’t hurt if there aren’t any distractions or responsibilities that get in the way. You and the men are attached to the hip in many ways. Aside from you clinging to the men or the men clinging to you, they have subtle ways to show affection. Others, not so much— Childe and Itto are clear examples. They’ll proudly show how clingy they are with you by latching themselves to your side. Long story short, these men will try to find ways to be with you if they get the chance.

Venti is hugging your arms while you, Venti, and Zhongli are walking through Liyue Harbor to buy some groceries. It was fifteen minutes after having lunch with the two Archons, and Venti suggested making some Liyuen dish for dinner. You have frequently visited the markets in Liyue with Zhongli so often that people are used to seeing you and Zhongli together. Of course, they didn’t really bat an eye when they saw Venti clinging to you. Seeing you with each man was the norm now since they knew how clingy those men were.

“And that is how I almost died!” Venti concludes, grinning almost too widely for someone who was telling a lengthy story about the time Zhongli threw boulders at him.

Zhongli rolls his eyes, holding onto your hand as the three of you walk around the Harbor, going to the next market for ingredients. “Oh, please, Barbatos. You didn’t almost die,” Zhongli murmurs, his eyes scanning the nearby vendors.

“Oh? And what happened to me then, blockhead? Care to explain to our precious [Y/N] what happened the day you nearly killed me?” Venti asks, giving Zhongli a teasing smile.

Zhongli lets out a soft ‘ugh’ while ignoring the bard’s teasing smile. You give Zhongli’s hand a squeeze along with a reassuring smile.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to go shopping around Liyue Harbor with Zhongli. The men accompanying you while you’re shopping in different regions vary. Zhongli mainly keeps you company while you shop around the market. Sometimes, Childe would keep you two company, or Xiao would tag along when he had time.

In Mondstadt, it would be Venti or Albedo that would tag along with you while you’re out buying something at the markets. If those two can’t tag along, then it would be Kaeya and Diluc if Diluc wasn’t busy with paperwork and signing documents. In Inazuma, Thoma is the obvious person that is by your side while you’re out in the City. If Thoma has duties to tend to at the Kamisato Estate, then Itto, Gorou, and Heizou will tag along with you and help you decide what to buy.

And if you’re in Sumeru, Tighnari, and Kaveh are the ones that will tag along with you. You wouldn’t mind having Al Haitham, and Cyno keep the three of you company, but Kaveh and Al Haitham would bicker with each other while Tighnari is growing gray hairs from Cyno’s constant jokes.

You look at the apples on the stands, tapping on your chin. “Zhongli, do you think we should buy apples?” You ask, turning to look at Zhongli, only to see that the spot beside you is empty.

You blink and search around for the former Geo Archon, only to no avail. Venti taps your shoulders to grab your attention before pointing at the stand ten feet from where you and Venti are standing. Zhongli’s standing at some booth, chatting with the vendor while looking at the items on display. Oh no.

You walk away from the fruit stand, dragging Venti with you. “We need to put a bell on Zhongli. We can’t have him wander off without our knowledge,” you say.

“I think you mean a leash because a bell won’t do anything, Windblume,” Venti comments.

The closer you and Venti approached Zhongli and the vendor, the more you dread to see what Zhongli is planning on buying. Zhongli will purchase anything that catches his eye, and he wouldn’t check to see what the price is, no matter what object it is. Then again, that applies to you too, but you’re not as bad as Zhongli.

You tap Zhongli’s shoulders, grabbing the dark brown-haired man’s attention. “Zhongli! I look away for three minutes, and you wandered off this far already?” You ask, propping your hands on your hips.

Zhongli smiles at you and pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss on your head. “Apologies, dearest, but this vendor caught my attention. I couldn’t help but admire the items on display,” says Zhongli, gesturing to the small accessories on display.

You look at the items in front of you, and now that you got a clear look at what Zhongli is looking at, you wonder why these items caught his eyes. They’re beautiful hair sticks made of the finest materials with intricate designs. Zhongli doesn’t wear hair sticks, and neither do you. The only person you can think of that wears hair sticks would be Baizhu. But you don’t think Zhongli is buying it for Baizhu unless he (or Baizhu) states it.

You poke Zhongli. “You’re not going to buy these hair sticks, are you? They look… expensive,” you whisper to Zhongli, making sure the vendor doesn’t hear what you say.

Zhongli hums, his eyes wandering over to a particular hair stick that stood out from the rest. “No worries, dearest. I don’t plan on spending Mora at the market today,” Zhongli reassures you, kissing your head once more.

You nod, satisfied with Zhongli’s response, while Venti eyes Zhongli suspiciously. “Good! Now, let’s return to the last stand because I need your opinions on the apples!” You say, gesturing for Zhongli to follow you and Venti.

You and Venti begin walking to the fruit stand, and Zhongli and the vendor make a quick trade before Zhongli follows you and Venti, pocketing the small gift bag that contains the hair sticks. When you’re dating twenty-five people, there’s no privacy, and you’re never alone. You don’t mind it since you’ve gotten used to it. Imagine being another person and stepping into the living room of the estate, only to see you sitting on the couch with other men crowding around you. You’re sitting on one of the men’s lap. Two men are resting their heads on one of your thighs while the others are sitting around you. It’s definitely a sight to see.

“This is an interesting sight to walk into.” Pantalone chuckles, leaning against the doorway.

You look up from your book and wave at Pantalone while the men around you stare blankly at Pantalone. Pantalone smiles and waves in return before walking into the living room, eyeing the men sprawling around you. Recently, you and the men have bought new furniture for the living room at the estate, and the new furniture is an oversized couch that can be made into a bed. There are small ottomans that can be pushed together against the sofa, making it into a large bed.

“So, what are you all up to?” asks Pantalone, kneeling on the edge of the couch.

You hold the book up for Pantalone to see. “I’m reading! The others are keeping me company, and they want me to read to them out loud,” you reply, patting each person’s head.

Dainsleif reaches for your hands and laces his fingers with yours. You give Dainsleif’s hand a squeeze while Dainslief pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“Do you want to continue reading, or do you want to stop for today?” Dainsleif asks, tilting his head back on your thigh. “It’s entirely up to you.”

You hum and lean back against Scaramouche’s chest, closing your eyes while Scaramouche runs his fingers through your hair. You have been sitting on the couch for a few hours now, and it would be nice to get up and stretch your legs. But you’re so comfortable on the couch with Scaramouche running his fingers through your hair while the men are scattered around you on the large sofa.

“I do need to stretch my legs. It’s been a while since I’ve stood up, but….” You trailed off, placing the book on the armrest of the couch and biting the inside of your cheek.

Scaramouche leans to the side to get a better look at your face, raising his eyebrows at you. “But what?” asks Scaramouche, continuing to run his fingers through your hair. “Do you want to get off the comfortable couch and stretch your legs or continue to sit on my lap while I run my fingers through your hair?”

You’re starting to feel numb from the waist down. No matter how comfortable you were feeling a few seconds ago, the numbness is starting to kick in, and you need to get up from the couch to walk around to get the blood circulating in your legs. You look at Scaramouche and give him a smile, patting his cheek lightly.

“I’m getting up from the couch. As much as I would love to stay on the couch, I need blood circulating in my legs because they’re starting to become numb, and my butt is a little sore from sitting on your lap for a while,” you say, slowly getting up from the couch.

Xiao and Kazuha quickly rush to your side when you get off the couch. Both men grab one of your arms and steady you while you stretch your legs to get circulation back into your legs. You give Kazuha and Xiao a grateful smile, kissing their cheeks while continuing to kick your legs forward.

“Maybe you should walk around to get the blood flowing. I don’t think standing up is going to do much,” Kazuha suggests. “After all, not only were you sitting for a while, but there were people lying on your legs too.”

You nod and gesture for the two men to start walking with you. You’re planning on walking inside the estate, but Xiao and Kazuha have different things in mind. They made you step outside of the estate for fresh air because, like they said, you were cooped up in the estate all day and had yet to leave the mansion.

“Do I have to walk outside of the estate?” You ask, slipping your sandals on while Xiao and Kazuha watch you mumble about wanting to stay indoors.

Xiao crosses his arms over his chest. “You don’t have to walk outside of the estate, but you need fresh air. What is that saying again?” Xiao asks, stroking his chin, and looks at Kazuha, who shrugs his shoulders.

Baizhu leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. “I believe the term is ‘touch grass’?” Baizhu comments, raising his eyebrows. “If that’s the saying you were implying, of course.”

“Ah, yes, that’s what I was implying. Thank you, Doctor Baizhu,” Xiao says, nodding to the green-haired man.

You huff and reach for the door handle of the estate. “I can’t believe I was told to touch some grass by my boyfriends,” you mumble, opening the door and stepping out of the mansion with Xiao and Kazuha at your side. And thus, your journey to touching grass begins with your beloved boyfriends at your side every step of the way. Not only because they wanted to be supportive and be at your side at all times, but it’s also because they didn’t want to be far from you for too long—unless they were working.

A few days later, Lumine invited you to grab some lunch with her in Sumeru, and who were you to turn down the offer? You’re sitting across from Lumine, devouring your food while Lumine stares at you, her mouth agape.

You stop eating, wipe your mouth with the napkin and tilt your head to the side while looking at Lumine quizzically. “Lumine? You’re not going to eat?” You ask.

Lumine snaps out of her thoughts and gives you a small smile. “I, uh, I was distracted…” Lumine trails off, blinking at you.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean? Was I eating too fast?” You ask, reaching for the butter chicken.

The blonde girl shakes her head, clearing her throat. “No, no, I wasn’t distracted by you eating fast, [Y/N]. But….” Lumine trails off, tapping her fingers on the table.

You raise your eyebrows at Lumine. “But…?”

Lumine gestures around you, taking a bite of the butter chicken. “You weren’t kidding when you said that you and your boyfriends are attached to the hip,” Lumine comments, licking her lips.

You blink at Lumine before looking around you. You completely forgot that the men tagged along with you to your lunch with Lumine. You’re so used to having the men tag along with you that it didn’t feel out of the ordinary. You look at the men sitting beside you, sipping on their drinks while eating the desserts. You smile at Lumine, rubbing the back of your neck.

“We are, aren’t we? To be honest, I didn’t realize they were with us until you pointed them out,” you say, turning to look at your boyfriends, who are happily snacking on the desserts the waiter would put on the table.

Lumine blinks at you, grabbing her cup and taking a sip of her coffee. “They’ve been looming over you like those ominous clouds before heavy rain and thunder. I’m surprised you didn’t notice their presence until now,” Lumine says, resting one arm on the table while swirling her cup of coffee with the other. Lumine raises her eyebrows at Aether, who’s busy stuffing his face with Padisarah Pudding. Aether stops what he’s doing and stares back at Lumine, his cheeks stuffed with Padisarah Pudding— reminding you of a chipmunk with cheeks stuffed with nuts. You snicker and grab your napkin, wiping the corner of his lips before patting his head happily.

Albedo tucks his hair behind his ear before scooping the rose custard with his spoon. “Perhaps [Y/N] didn’t notice our presence because they’re used to us being around them that it didn’t feel out of the ordinary,” Albedo suggests. “We have always left the estate together unless we’re going to work or school.”

Gorou nods in agreement, wrapping his arms around yours and snuggling up against you. You smile and pat Gorou’s head while continuing to eat your butter chicken. Archons, other than the men, you’d love to marry butter chicken if you could.

You nudge Gorou with your elbow. “Do you want something to eat or snack on?” You ask, gesturing toward the food and desserts laid out on the table.

Gorou shakes his head, his ears rubbing against your cheek in doing so. “I’m not exactly hungry right now,” replies Gorou, “Although I am thirsty.” Gorou reaches for his drink.

Lumine stares at you and the men before her, her eyes twitching. Every time when she tries to have some alone time with you, the men would always be with you. If it’s not all of the men, it’ll be some of the men tagging along with you. She can never hang out with you in peace without at least one or two men attached to your hips. It’s cute! Buuuuut as your friend, it does get annoying. Especially when one of the men that are attached to your hips is her very own twin brother.

Ayato chuckles, leaning back in his seat while gazing at Lumine with an amused look on his face. Lumine looks like she wanted to punch them all. “What’s bothering you, Lumine?” asks Ayato, raising an eyebrow at the blonde girl in front of you.

Lumine huffs, giving the Kamisato heir a fake smile. “Oh, it’s nothing, Lord Ayato! I was just hoping I would get some alone time with [Y/N]. You know, my best friend?” Lumine replies, narrowing her eyes at the twenty-five men before her.

Ayato lets out a thoughtful hum. “Well, perhaps next time you can spend time with [Y/N] while we’re at work! [Y/N] does get lonely when we’re tending our duties in our respective regions while they’re on their break from the Akademiya,” replies Ayato.

You nod while patting Gorou’s head with your unoccupied hand. You do get lonely sometimes when you’re not at the Akademiya while the men are at work. Sometimes they let you tag along, but most of the time, you don’t tag along because you know you’re a distraction. Imagine sitting inside the Grand Sage’s office while Al Haitham is doing his paperwork at the desk, and the next thing you know, your back is pressing against the bookshelves while making out with Al Haitham. That has happened more than once, and because the two of you were nearly caught, Al Haitham hesitantly concludes that this is the last time you’ll be at his side while he’s working.

Capitano flicks his hair over his shoulders. “I don’t think it’ll be possible for you to get some alone time with [Y/N]. While most of us work in the mornings, some of us come home early to spend time with [Y/N],” replies Capitano.

Lumine raises her eyebrows at Capitano. “You guys leave work early just to come home for [Y/N]?” Lumine asks.

You look at Lumine with your mouth wide open in shock. “Should I feel offended right now?” You ask, looking at the men for confirmation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lumine laughs and waves her hands in front of her. “Wait, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way! What I meant is…. Do you guys really leave work early to see [Y/N]? It’s not a bad thing. I’m just curious!” Lumine says, propping her arms on the table.

Al Haitham nods. “Of course! I always look forward to coming home to seeing [Y/N]’s face,” Al Haitham says, looking at you with a smile. “Especially after a long day at the Akademiya dealing with the scholars.”

You feel yourself blush at Al Haitham’s comment, playfully covering your face with your hands. Pierro rubs your head affectionately with a tiny smile. Who knew someone like you could make someone as intimidating as Pierro soft. Such a common yet cheesy trope.

“Make sure to finish your food. You haven’t eaten anything today,” Pierro reminds you.

You pucker your lips and nod, continuing to eat your butter chicken while the men converse with each other, and Lumine taps her fingers on the wooden table. Lumine sighs and leans in her seat, tilting her head back.

“I hate how you guys are so cute and soft on [Y/N]. Although some of you are little shitheads to them that they would rant to me about how much of a shithead some of you are,” Lumine says, sitting up and staring directly at Scaramouche to let him know she’s talking about him.

Scaramouche glowers at the blonde girl, clenching his hands into tight fists. You laugh nervously and pat Scaramouche’s head while giving Lumine a pleading look. Lumine huffs and looks away, snatching the Padisarah Pudding from Aether before scooping the pudding with her spoon. Aether stares at Lumine with his mouth agape.

“Hey! It’s rude to take people’s food and desserts, you know! Where are your manners!?” Aether exclaims, glaring at his twin sister, who brushes off his question.

You wave the waiter over to order another Padisarah Pudding for Aether to eat while Aether silently sulks as Lumine continues to eat the rest of the pudding. Whoever is paying the bills, you’re hoping the amount of food on the table isn’t going to hurt their wallet. Unless everyone ends up splitting the bills and each person chips into paying the bill.

A few days later, Ningguang invited you to the Jade Chamber like how Lumine invited you for lunch in Sumeru. After all, it has been a long time since you and Ningguang have spoken to each other, and it’s a perfect time to catch up with each other. When Ningguang sent you an invitation to the Jade Chamber, Ningguang didn’t think much about it. She invited you to the Jade Chamber, and the two of you will catch up with each other while having breakfast before the both of you part ways to do your own things. Ningguang will continue her duties as the Tianquan of the Qixing while you’re doing whatever it is that you usually do.

Ningguang is sitting at the dining table, reading through the paperwork she brought with her to the table. While she was supposed to take a temporary break to have breakfast with you, there are still things Ningguang needs to skim over before breakfast. Ningguang looks up to see Baishi standing at the entrance of the dining room.

“Lady Ningguang, your guests are here for breakfast. They will be heading down momentarily,” says Baishi.

Ningguang smiles at Baishi and nods, dismissing her assistant. You were right on time. Ningguang gathers her paperwork and puts them in an envelope before getting up to place them elsewhere before you’re escorted to the dining room by her other assistants. Ningguang looks up when she hears a knock.

You peek into the room and smile at the Tianquan. Ningguang smiles and gestures for you to enter before turning her back to you to put her things away. Ningguang clears her throat, closing the cabinet with her back toward you.

“Good morning, [Y/N]. It’s great to see you again! I hope your journey to the Jade Chamber went smoothly,” says Ningguang.

“Good morning, Lady Ningguang! The journey to the Jade Chamber went well! Although the sight of the Jade Chamber never ceases to take my breath away,” you reply, sitting down at the dining table.

Ningguang smiles. “That’s great to hear! And please, [Y/N], I understand you’re at the Jade Chamber, but just call me Ningguang. No need for formalities!” Ningguang turns around and stops in her spot, looking at you with surprise. “Oh! I didn’t think you were bringing guests as well, [Y/N].”

Behind you stands twenty-five men— the same twenty-five men you’re in a happy relationship with. You give Ningguang a blank stare before holding up the invitation she sent out to you not long ago. Ningguang walks to the dining table and sits at the end of the dining table, crossing her leg over the other before gesturing for the servants to come over.

You clear your throat. “Lady Ningguang— I mean, Ningguang, sorry, it says ‘[Y/N] and friends’ on the invitation. I assumed you invited me and the men for breakfast,” you say shyly.

Ningguang stares at you with confusion before she holds her hand out in front of her. You get up from your seat, ready to hand the invitation to Ningguang, but Zhongli gestures for you to sit down. You reluctantly sit, letting Zhongli take the letter from your hands and give it to Venti. Venti walks to the Tianquan, handing her the invitation. Ningguang skims through the invitation, and lo and behold, you’re correct.

Ningguang chuckles, putting the invitation on the table in front of her. “Oh, would you look at that? It seems like I mistakenly invited your boyfriends to tag along with us for our breakfast,” Ningguang says, leaning back in her seat.

Heizou clears his throat. “Does that mean we’re being uninvited?” Heizou asks, looking at the others awkwardly.

Childe clears his throat, shaking his head. “I hope not because that would be awkward,” murmurs Childe.

Ningguang chuckles and shakes her head. “No, no, I will not be uninviting you all after my mistake. Please, sit down, and breakfast will be out shortly,” says Ningguang.

The men start sitting at empty seats while the servants at the Jade Chamber bring out extra seats for the others that are still standing. Ningguang passes the invitation back to you while watching the men converse with each other around you and her.

A few minutes later, breakfast was served, and everyone started digging into their breakfast. Usually, at the Jade Chamber, breakfast has always been silent for Ningguang. And since she has invited you over for breakfast, breakfast has been lively, with many conversations going on between each person.

“So, [Y/N], please tell me what you’ve been up to since our last meeting,” Ningguang says, wiping her mouth with a cloth napkin.

You reach for the cup of water, take a sip, and hum thoughtfully. “Well, recently, I have completed my third year at the Akademiya, and I am now officially on summer break. While I can take summer courses as well and graduate from the Akademiya early, I wanted to take a break for the summer because it’s been stressful. I need a break,” You reply, scooping up the eggs with your spoon.

Ningguang nods, tapping her finger on the table. “I see! And how is your relationship with your lovers? Are they treating you well?” Ningguang asks, raising her eyebrows at you and the men before her.

You blush and nod. “Our relationship is going smoothly. I couldn’t be any happier, and all of them make me happy and are the reason why I was able to be where I am today,” you reply.

“Aw! Onikabuto booboo bear!” Itto gushes, looking over at you with puppy dog eyes and a pout, his cheeks almost as red as his horns.

Ningguang looks at Itto with amusement. “An interesting pet name, I see,” Ningguang chuckles. “I was wondering something….” Ningguang trails off, eyeing you and the twenty-five men before her.

“And what would that be, Lady Ningguang? I’m sure [Y/N] and the rest of us will try to answer your pressing questions,” replies Kazuha, smiling at the Tianquan.

Ningguang smiles at Kazuha, lifting her cup to her lips. Everyone goes silent and looks at the Tianquan curiously, waiting for her to reply. Ningguang takes a long sip from her cup before setting the cup on the table. Ningguang brushes her hair off her shoulders and looks at the twenty-five men and then at you, a small smirk appearing on her face while her eyes shine with mischief.

“I was wondering if I’ll be receiving a wedding invitation soon. I and along with other people, have seen how attached to the hip you all are. Can I expect a wedding invitation soon?” Ningguang asks nonchalantly.

You blink at Ningguang before snickering. “I don’t know, Ningguang! Boys, should Lady Ningguang expect a wedding invitation soon?” You ask, smirking at the twenty-five men.

“Soon, but that will be a surprise for both you and Lady Ningguang,” says Ayato, smiling behind his cup of tea.

The twenty-four men nod in agreement to Ayato’s comment while you stare at Ayato with your mouth agape.

“What, wait? Are you implying that all of you have been planning on proposing to me—”

“Whaaaaaat? Who said that?!” Thoma interrupts you, sliding a plate of pancakes over to you with a fake smile.

Tighnari clears his throat. “You should finish your breakfast, [Y/N]. I’m sure the Tianquan has important business to tend to after breakfast. We mustn’t keep her any longer!” says Tighnari.

You pout and shove slices of pancakes into your mouth while sulking over the men cutting off your question. It looks like they do plan on it but is unsure of when they’ll make it happen.

Note: And finally, a somewhat long Genshin fic for this week! >:3 I might make a spin-off of the Genshin x HSR crossover I posted not long ago! It would be for either this upcoming week or during my finals week, but I'm not entirely sure yet 🤔 I might reopen my discord server in the summer. Might. I'm not 100% sure about it yet and will be discussing it with my mods before I make the full decision. Anyway, to my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @xyji, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

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