#dash: josh lane | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gretavanlace · 2 years ago

Text

Choker

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual contact, language, dom/sub, collaring, exhibitionism (if you squint), dirty talk, masturbation, oral sex, references to Almost Famous (go watch that masterpiece), probably some other things I forgot.

Special thanks to @jake-kiszkas-smirk for supplying me with this delicious pic of our lord and savior

A tiny Grecian God, that’s how you might describe him were you asked to right now.

“Tiny” might ruffle another’s feathers; might make him feel less than, and emasculated…but Josh? That beautiful man is a horse of a different color.

He embraces who he is without thought. It has never occurred to him that his stature might have any bearing on who he is, or how he’s perceived…and he’s absolutely right. It doesn’t.

Except, that’s a bit of a white lie, isn’t it? Something about that miniature frame of his, still backed by such solidity and confidence…

It really does it for you.

The man is a powerhouse. A fiery stick of dynamite - small and unassuming…yet, packing a wild, lasting punch.

At this moment, he is glittering in gold, messily fixing himself a cocktail, rhinestones only half-complete across his flawless face.

He looks wild, curls twisting this way and that insanely atop his perfect head. Eyes shining and flashing with nerves and anticipation. Soft cock displayed like rock and roll art beneath his second skin of a jumpsuit.

“Hello, Penny.” He teases when he catches sight of you in the mirror, staring at his reflection.

It’s an inside joke that you can’t remember the start of any longer, it’s been so long running. In moments backstage like this, you’re his Penny Lane. A nod to an iconic, fictional, groupie in a movie too mainstream for him to readily admit to loving.

“Hello, tiny dancer.” You smile at him through the mirror and move forward as he turns to properly greet you. “Your face is lopsided.”

Your thumb traces over the shimmering studs adorning only one of his cheeks.

“Yeah?” His arms wrap around your waist. “Well, your face is heart-stopping, star fucker.”

A laugh, much too loud for the intimate moment, bubbles out of you as he watches on, loving you just a little more than he did ten seconds ago. Though, he would have thought that impossible.

“Star fucker?”

“That’s what you came for, isn’t it?” He pulls you in, palm firmly splayed across your lower back until your hips are pressed together. “Sneaky girl charmed her way backstage to procure a moment alone with the front man? Wanna run home and tell all your friends about Josh Kiszka’s big dick?”

“Are you drunk already?” You giggle, rolling your eyes at his nonsense.

“Maybe so, Penny…” he grins, grinding a little harder against you. “Maybe so. A dash of inebriation makes for a hell of a show. And here I stand, the world but a stage.”

There’s that hint of his transatlantic accent that holds such a dear place in your heart. On occasion, he sounds born of Hollywood’s golden era. As if he might suddenly grab his fedora and leave you in a cloud of Lucky Strike smoke as you weep prettily in a gauzy dressing gown.

Or perhaps, it’s the other way around, and it’s he that is the gentle damsel in love, leaning back seductively in your embrace. His parted lips and throat exposed, waiting for your kiss in a black and white room flickering across the silver screen.

Katharine Hepburn with a tambourine.

“Well, you just remember who you belong to when you’re out there counting the stars in their eyes.” you push him away fondly and grab territorially at his chest. “Your tits look phenomenal in this suit, by the way.”

His eyelashes bat so subtly you doubt he’s even aware of the butterflies he’s stirred to life in your stomach. “I love it when you objectify me.”

Slipping your hand beneath the silken fabric, you tease over his nipples, two light pinches curling into the tiny pebbles of flesh. “Your throat, too.” a warm kiss lingers, in order to bask in the gentle thump of his pulse for a moment. “If I had a cock, all pretty and hard, you know what I’d do with it?”

A huffing breath rolls out of him, famished and needful, already.

He is weak for these rare occasions with you. These moments when you fall into the waters of your constant, unbridled desire and sink fully to the filthy depths. “Tell me.”

“I’d slide it right here.” You graze your hand up between his perfectly defined pectoral muscles. “I’d make you press them together for me. I’d fuck them…and then I’d cum right here. “ You tap at his throat and a soft, hollow sound emanates from his Adam’s apple. “I’d paint your blushing skin just like you do mine.”

“Fuck…” the whimper that tumbles out of him is deliciously, sinfully, hauntingly, submissive. “C’mon, pen…” he’s trying to twist you around now, longing to bend you over the table. “We don’t have long.”

“Did you even notice it?” You question, lending a coy and mysterious tone to your pondering.

“Notice what, love?” He hums, charting maps with his lips and tongue wherever his mouth happens to land. Pulling at your cut up Greta shirt until it’s bunched up carelessly, showcasing the rounded tops of your breasts, and the simple black satin that cradles them.

“That.” Your explanation is colored with nonchalance as you point over his shoulder.

He turns, takes note of the discrete package, and then reaches out for it with one hand still firmly wrapped around the small of your waist.

“Penny lane came bearing gifts?” He teases with a wink. “Trying to buy your way into a comfy seat on my cock, are we?”

“Don’t be stupid,” you smirk, playing up the smug flare that is coursing through you, head to toe. “That seat already has my name written all over it. Now, open your gift.”

At last, he releases you in order to play into your little power trip. “What could it be?” He’s taking his time, carefully easing open the flimsy, plastic tablecloth from catering that serves as wrapping paper. You, having made do in a pinch.

Refusing to entertain his questioning, you simply lean back and quietly soak in his movements, impatient for the confusion you'll surely find when he sees the gift for what it is.

True to fantasy, his eyes light up like someone has screwed bulbs into his temples, gears turning as he attempts to work it out in his head. Fingers traveling reverently over the dainty, golden chain and the tiny key that dangles delicately from it.

It is undeniably lovely. Elegant. Unique. Timeless. And he is all of these things - still, this particular piece is decidedly not Josh. Though, he is far too kind to let on.

“It’s beautiful.” He smiles, shaking off the fact that it seems an odd present. You’ve never given him jewelry before, he thinks, but he’ll treasure it all the same. “Why do I get the feeling you’ll steal this and wear it more often than I do?”

You nod, rolling the secret around on your tongue like a lemon drop.

Slipping your index finger through the chain, you lift it out of the box. He watches it wink and catch the light..oblivious that there are more surprises to be had.

“You’re right. I will wear it more.” You agree. “Because it’s mine.”

His shoulders slump almost imperceptibly. He’s such a sucker for a little gift; almost childlike with his affinity for anything wrapped up pretty and presented with a bit of pomp and circumstance.

“Oh, don’t look so somber, tiny dancer.” You smile gently, Running the tip of your finger down the perfect slope of his nose. “I’d never leave you out. Go have a little look in my bag.”

He follows your line of sight, anticipation alive in his eyes once again - then sidles over to the couch, excitement evident in his bare-footed step.

Practically sizzling with suspense, you’re laser-focused on his reaction as he pulls your bag open and stares down into the abyss that is your catch all.

A breath hitches in his throat deliciously when the cards fan into place.

“Is this a collar?” He asks quietly, the rumble of his lowest register causing a chill, like icy fingers, at the nape of your neck.

A slow, sly grin graces your lips and serves as his answer.

He displays it, as if you’ve never seen it before, as if you weren’t the one to carefully select it. It isn’t blatant. In fact, it could pass for an intricate necklace…a choker. Which is exactly why you were drawn to it.

“Yeah?” His eyes, heavy and swimming with palpable want, rise to meet your gaze. “You want to be all mine, pen? You want me to slip this around your neck and make you my pretty little pet?”

“No, no…” you pluck the collar out of his grasp and sweep your touch over the cool, shining gold. It exactly matches the gold that will shimmer flamboyantly against his jumpsuit and dazzle the crowd tonight as he works the stage, and their hearts. “This is for you, sweetheart. You’re going to be my pet tonight.”

“And if I say no?” He counters, just to stir the pot a smidge. He can’t help himself.

“Well,” you offer a tiny shrug. “If you really don’t want to, you can always use your safe word and this goes no further. However, if you want to say no just to earn a reaction, I’ll save you the trouble…”

You wait a beat, and he nods, biting the inside of his lip in an attempt to mask his enthusiasm.

Your thumb dips into the warm, wet heaven of his mouth. “If you say no just to misbehave, I’ll have no misgivings about putting you over my knee.”

He sucks, tongue swirling over the ridges of your fingerprint as the smallest whimper makes itself known in the back of his throat.

“Oh, did you like that?” You tease with a questioning tilt of your head. “You want mama to make it hurt a little until you’re my very good boy again?”

He pulls back with a muted pop, reaching to pull you into his arms. “Fuck, baby…c’mon, just a quick one before the show. I’m so fucking hard.”

You snap your fingers, a swift crack of a pop in his face to catch his attention and remind him of who is in the driver’s seat. “Settle down.” You soothe, while hanging on to an edge in your tone. “I think you need to find your center and take a deep breath.”

His fingers wander up your thigh with a suggestive tilt of his head, “I think I need to find your center and…”

You push him away with unwavering, yet loving force. “I said settle down…and you need to do something about this,” your fingers tap a light rhythm over his achingly hard cock through his jumpsuit and a soft, breathless moan calls back to you, relishing the attention of your touch where he wants it most.

“You do something about that, Penny.” He’s being a world class brat, but carrying out his insubordination via a delectably gravely tone, so you decide to allow it. “C’mon, you know just what I need, baby…just how I like it. Make me feel good. Don’t make me go out there hard and hurting.”

“You know,” you sigh, shaking your head in mild annoyance. “You’re being very bossy, but sort of whiny at the same time. I’m not sure what to do with you.”

He pulls you close, clinging to you with warm, electric, lust “You know exactly what to do with me.”

“You’re right.” You nod, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. Releasing him, you aim a finger at the vanity chair. “You just be a good boy and sit. I’ll finish your face before we put it on.”

He slinks down into the seat begrudgingly, casting a rueful stare up at you. “Don’t leave me like this.”

You grab the tiny cup of rhinestones, “Hush.”

“Wait,” it’s as though it has suddenly dawned on him. “Before we put what on?”

“Your collar.” You offer offhandedly, inspecting the placement of his glittering jewels in order to line them up correctly.

“On stage?” He pulls back, tugging his chin out of your tender grasp. “You can’t be serious.”

Your touch goes right back to holding him in place, tilting him upward until you can stare down into his chocolate eyes. “I’m very serious. I won’t attach the lead. And you know your safe word, so I suspect this little song and dance is just that - a song and dance. You want this just as much as I do. Likely more. You’re fighting me just to fight me. Stop.”

A slow nod and lazy lull of his eyelids only stand to confirm what you already knew. “There’s mama’s angel. Now you just breathe and be still, the quiet before the storm is good for you.”

“Are you referring to the show or yourself?” He smiles softly, easing back into the chair to allow your work.

“Me, tiny dancer.” You whisper, face close enough to nudge the tip of his nose with your own. “I am always the storm.”

For the first half of the show, you watch from the wings. Positively intoxicated by him, as always.

He becomes someone else entirely when he marches his way out into the lights. Feeds off the adrenaline powering through his veins like the sweetest drug. Steals the energy the fans readily give, and uses it to further sink his teeth into their hearts. He takes a little piece of them and leaves them with a chip of himself in return. They, forever his…and he, forever theirs.

Tonight, you’re there, too. Claiming him with that beautiful bit of gold latched and locked around his throat. Removable only by a turn of the key that rests against your breastbone.

Mine! You long to taunt out into the crowd like a bratty little girl gifted with a coveted doll.

Reluctantly, you leave him to it, with his three brothers to back him, while you ready for his return backstage. If only they would scrap the encore. You should feel guilty wishing to rob the fans of but a few more stolen moments. And usually, you would. Normally, such a thought would never even cross your mind to begin with, but tonight….

You hear Danny and Sam first, loping down the hall outside the dressing room door, loudly joking and laughing, stroking one another’s egos over a job well done.

Jake, quiet and reflective after a show, has probably already padded by unnoticed, likely berating himself silently over a mistake or two no one else even came close to noticing. He is hard on himself to a punishing degree, and it breaks your heart, but you’ll worry about platonically tending to his wounds later.

You watch the handle turn from your regal perch on the couch. Straight-backed, yet casual and self assured, you remind him of royalty…but it’s good that you aren’t privy to that fact yet, lest your head swell any further.

He has hardly had a chance to close the door when you order him to his knees.

He looks sinful. Flushed with color, eyes flashing, chest still heaving with exertion, curls askew and chaotic. He resembles a madman, and if you had a straight jacket at the ready, you’d wrangle him into it and fuck him like an insatiable nurse in an asylum.

You curl a finger at him, beckoning him closer “Come here.”

“Let me grab a towel first, pen.” He implores with no real conviction. “My face is all sweaty.”

“My thighs will work just fine, rockstar.” You click a heel harshly on the floor, summoning him. The spike of your pump drives a tiny wedge in the hardwood. You might feel badly for the damage if you could think about anything other than him, on his knees like a fallen god.

“Yeah?” He throws you a flirty smirk. “You want my mouth? You want me to baby that little wet cunt until you cum real sweet all over my tongue?”

“Save it.” You sigh, “I’m the front man now. So you just do as you’re told and look pretty. Then we’ll see if you’ve earned a rose.”

Pulling open the thin, waffle weave robe that should have been reserved for his after performance shower, you let him in on the secret: your heels are the only thing adorning your body, aside from that golden key reflecting the light with a wink…and you’ve been stretched out on the couch facing a very unlocked door with but a lightweight robe to guard your nonexistent innocence.

He turns to lock the door, but you stop him with a mere shake of your head. “You’ve just worn a collar in front of thousands and now you’ve found your modesty? No. If someone wants to come in and watch what a good boy you’re about to be for mama, let them.”

“Baby…”

“I said, let them.” You snap breathily, with another crack of your heel.

He winces at the noise, but it’s a lovely little moan of a sound that causes a tiny smile to tug at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah, c’mere, sweet boy…” you coax. “You want to so badly. I can feel it, how much you need me. I’m right here, baby.”

He starts to make his way closer, shuffling on his knees awkwardly, but then wisely thinks better of it and falls forward onto his palms, crawling on all fours. Wardrobe will have a field day with the white velvet knees of his jumpsuit.

“There’s mama’s good boy.” You praise softly, like a lullaby. “What would they all say if they could see you crawling for me? Those powerful hands that held their hearts just moments ago, on the dirty floor just to get a taste.”

“They don’t really want me that way.” He’s fishing for compliments as he bridges the gap between you slowly, but you know it stems from a well hidden, but very real nonetheless, sapling of self doubt that unfortunately flourishes inside his head. He didn’t seek this life out, and he still feels out of place in it now and then.

You arch a brow and roll your ankle, seductively bringing attention to the black leather you’ll have pressed into his back soon enough, with his angelic face between your legs. “Oh, no? Is that why you parade yourself around for them the way you do? The way you tease them with that pretty, soft cock that isn’t always quite so soft? The way you move like you’re fucking? Because they don’t want you that way?”

“Say more things like that.” He sighs, now close enough to rest his forehead against your silken shin.

“You’re a whore for praise,” you run your fingers through his dampened curls, raking your nails against his scalp. ��Has anyone ever told you that?”

“No.” He lies boldly.

You know he wants to hear you say it again. He is surrounded with constant accolades from nearly every angle. The wunderkind in a genre dominated by seasoned, legendary heroes. He likes a bit of degradation now and then, as well. ‘Knock me down a peg or two’ his eyes whisper.

But, again, you’re steering this ship tonight.

“Well then, I wouldn’t want to spoil the record.” You pull him in close by the hair, and then closer still with your fingers tucked into his collar “My cunt is wet and lonely, tiny dancer. Why don’t you make me feel a little better?”

“Fuck…” the obscenity groans out of him low and long, and you throb at the sound of it. Nearly a growl. Animalistic and needful. Hungry. Primal.

You effectively shut him up with another harsh pull on his collar, burying his face between your legs. He shakes his head back and forth greedily - you are the elusive mirage he has been hunting down in the desert, and now you are his at last…quenching an ancient thirst.

“That’s it…” you breathe, rocking your hips up into his kiss. “Doing such a good job already. Were you thinking about this the whole time on stage? Famished for my cunt in that gorgeous mouth of yours?”

He nods eagerly, but refuses to stop long enough to answer you properly, which just so happens to be exactly the way you want it.

“Take it out.” You command softy, sucking in a hiss when the tip of his tongue laps over your swollen clit just right.

He’s fighting his way out of the confines of his suit instantly. Tugging his arms free of the sleeves and shoving it down his hips, mouth indulging you all the while.

You can’t get an unobstructed look, but a guttural moan vibrates into your pussy as it drips over his tongue, proving he has wrapped his fist around his neglected cock.

“Does that feel good, rockstar?” You tease, grip latched onto the collar unforgivingly. “Stroking your cock with a mouthful of pussy? Are you my sweet boy, doing so good for me?”

“I am…” he murmurs, muffled, yet eager, against your soaked folds. “Wanna make you cum.”

“Don’t worry about me.” You snatch at the golden choker, tugging him around between your legs. “You just take care of that pretty cock of yours. Fuck your fist like it’s my cunt sucking you in. Or my mouth. Or my ass.”

A long, loud, groan that borders on sounding painful, escapes him as he tugs your clit into his warm, wet mouth.

“Someone liked that.” You’re taunting him, hiding how close he has you already behind your mockery. “Wouldn’t that be lovely for your sweet cock right now? To be buried in that tight little forbidden spot? All warm, and snug, and wrong…”

“Fuck, baby…” he moans, releasing you from his kiss for but a moment. “Gonna cum…fuck, fuck fuck…”

“Up here,” you bite out harshly, yanking him up by the collar so roughly he chokes out a cough, “Right here, baby. Paint me pretty.”

His eyes lock in on where you’ve patted at your cunt to show him where you want it, and a mere second later, with a whining cry of your name, his release, hot and perfect, spills across you.

You watch with rapt attention, eagerly anticipating what you have up your sleeve next.

He catches his breath slowly, panting with his forehead buried against the softness of your stomach.

“Clean it up.” You order, lovingly petting at his hair.

“Hmm?” He sounds far away and blissfully blurry.

“Your mess.” You reiterate, with a snap of a tug on his curls. “Clean it up.”

You could laugh when he tries to rise to his feet for a towel, but instead, you hold fast to that collar that has rapidly become your very best friend. “With your mouth.”

Ever eager to please and prove his devotion to everything devious, he makes short work of the evidence. Savoring it like a fine wine. “You taste even better when I’m there too.”

You can’t hide the fond smile that plays over your lips. He loves himself almost as much as he loves you, and you like it just fine that way. He should be in love with himself as well…he is perfection, an angel floating along in this realm disguised as one of us.

How you managed to capture his affections you’ll never fully grasp.

Watching him lick the last of his release off the back of his thumb, you shake your admiration off and issue a brand new order.

“Fix your suit while I gather our things.”

“But you haven’t cum yet.” He protests with a petulant pitch in his tone.

You wave him off like it doesn’t matter as you fight to ignore the pounding, throbbing, ache between your legs. “Later.”

When, at last, you’re ready to leave, you slip the golden lead from your bag, swinging it down at your side as you make your way forward.

“Baby, there are still people out there.” He protests, but he can’t hide the intrigue in his complaint. And, as always, he knows his safe word for anything he isn’t truly comfortable with. His silence on that front speaks volumes.

“Hardly.” You click the leash in place at the back of his collar and ease him onto his feet. “Just be glad I’m not making you crawl.”

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lcrcmcrie · 6 months ago

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Who: Lara & @joshlane

What: New Year's Eve Party

When: December 31, 2024

"It's been a long time since I've played pool," Lara signed, looking at the billiard tables and picking up a cue. "You in?" she gestured towards the table. Back in LA, she and her friends would spend their nights off at a local bar playing those games, listening to music. In her case, it was mostly feeling the bass. She smiled at Josh and handed him the other cue.

#dash #dash: josh lane #f2f #f2f: josh lane

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daisyful-gvf · 2 years ago

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Can you tell us more soft twin lane thoughts im feeling emo

well if u want poems specifically let me know, but as far as thoughts go…(safe for work, just ‘read more’ so i don’t clog everyone’s dash)

-🍓-

braiding jake’s hair and him nodding off while you do, maybe on the tour bus and he’s sleepy and just the gentle brush of your fingernails over his scalp makes him shiver, and the gentle tugs at his his hair lulls him to sleep.

smothering josh with kisses all over his face, and him giggling at first, but then relaxing into it until finally he gives a soft him and a heavy sigh as you kiss his cheekbone a final time. you pull back to look at him and his eyes are sparkly, and he says “hi” really quiet with a smile and pink cheeks.

jake nervous playing with your hands instead of his own. in interviews he’s always fidgeting with his hands, so maybe if you were out with him and he’s meeting someone new or you’re at some big event, he’s toying. with your rings, tracing your nails, touching your palm, squeezing your thumb.

josh sleeping in between your legs, with his head on your stomach. he likes how soft it is, and he loves when you play with his curls as he drifts off. his hands rest on the tops of your thighs

getting ice cream with josh in the summertime, walking to a local place in the heat. he’s in a tank top and shorts and you’re in a sundress, which he has complimented no less than 10 times. he’d get ice cream in his mustache and would be all “what? what?” giggling when you start laughing at him. he lets you try his and he tries yours, and he hums and nods when he likes it. he likes yours more and makes you switch him for a bit. :(((

getting high with jake on the beach, falling asleep with your head on his bare chest in the sun. he smells like the sea. his hair gets so wavy from the ocean, and it’s tussled everywhere after the nap. his lips are sunburnt, but he lets you kiss him softly. he puts seashells on your leg, all the way up to the top of your thigh, and asks you which ones are you favorites.

i could do this all day 😋

#josh kiszka #jake kiszka

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gretnavanfleets · 3 years ago

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RED CARDINALS (series, chp. 5)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x female!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

AN: sorry for the repost, i accidentally posted the unreviewed version. enjoy <3

RC Masterlist

tags @celestialfauna <3

You and Jake had been consistently making plans over the last 2 weeks. You found yourself spending almost every waking moment with him, his presence made you warm inside, and all felt right with the world. However, you felt bad for how your plans almost always excluded Sam. Not that you ever meant to exclude him, just that it was easier with your schedule that perfectly coaligned with Jakes, so it just worked that spent more time with him. Sam was still a sophomore in high school, he had more going on which resulted in less freedom with his class and work lives. Danny had been busy with his accelerated courses too, so you often found that plans were just with the two of you.

“Yello’?”, you rolled over in bed, answering the phone.

“Hey, do you want to grab breakfast?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Sweet, meet you in the street in 10.”

You entered his car, the sweet aroma of Spice Market Little Trees filled the air as you buckled yourself into his passenger seat. His smile greeted you, his hands clasped around the steering wheel.

“So, I was thinking iHop?” You petitioned, plugging your phone into the aux charger connected to his dash. Someone New came on first, Hozier’s voice rung quietly through the speakers as you shuffled through your collaborative playlist, which he had suggested you both make on Spotify. Every day he would add new songs and you’d do the same. It was sweet, he would include songs he liked but also songs he thought you would, every morning you’d wake up to his 3am texts which followed somewhere along the lines of ‘Hey, I added this to the playlist. It reminded me of you.’ It always made you smile, your heart flutter slightly.

You’d gotten slightly better at suppressing the feelings which arose for Jake, that to which you blamed on Josh, for obvious reasons. The more you grew to learn Jake the more you realized how absolutely different the twins always were. At first, it was difficult to separate them, but now you had the pleasure of knowing Josh and Jake. Jake’s smile was only slightly different than Josh’s, though you found comfort in the similarity. That was the only part you couldn’t derive from your mind, but it wasn’t a bad one. You were happy to remember Josh in his smile as you got to know him.

Singing along with Jake, he left turned at the intersection which led you onto the highway.

I fall in love just a little ol' little bit / Every day with someone new

“I feel like I relate too much to this song.” You joked with him, mindlessly scrolling through the playlist to check the new additions from the night before.

“Do you?” Jake chuckled, merging into the four lanes which laid out ahead of you.

“Yeah, I do, hopeless romanticism is kind of my thing.”

“I would have never guessed!”

“Well now you know, the secret is out.” You replied, the My King Will Be Kind intro beginning in the background of your conversation had you focused on the playlist. You wouldn’t have seen Jake’s eyes glued to you hadn’t you reached to turn the volume up to fill the silence. His low-lidded eyes seemed like they had something to say, the ever so slight smile on his lips, the complete relaxation in his body. He turned his gaze back to the road as your eyes met his, adjusting his body to promptly tense back up against the seat.

“What?” You beckoned the question as the light turned green.

“Nothing, just trying to see which song you had up next.”

From the tone in his voice, he was lying, but you wouldn’t pry. Sometimes you would catch him looking at you like he just had, and it always made you giddy inside. Despite your resistance of feelings, something about moments like this had your cheeks pink and your stomach fluttering. It was a small moment if anything, but the small ones were the ones you were happy you got to share with him. You’d always wondered what would happen if you just kissed him; if you just placed your hand on his cheek mid-sentence and cut him off from an ongoing rant or simple conversation. You shook the idea from your mind.

His voice cut off your thoughts, “Destination pancakes!” he shouted, pulling his keys from the ignition. You followed him inside, taking a seat at a booth. You sat across from each other, peering up at him over your menu, he did the same.

“Whatcha gonna get?” You asked, shooting your eyes back down to the lists of options.

“Um, pancakes?”

“Okay, I might get a burger.”

He dropped his menu, plucking yours from your hands. “A burger?” He questioned you, jokingly of course, but loud enough for the table next to you to look over. “How are you gonna get a burger at the international house of pancakes! I am offended. You have offended this entire establishment.” You laughed at him, taking it back from his hands.

“Okay, fine! Would blueberry suit your fancy?” You answered him, your voice facetiously stern.

He nodded in response, “Now that’s a good girl.” His focus caught back to his menu; the sentence made your breath hitch. Your cheeks were surprisingly red behind the cover of the menu. Luckily, the waitress had arrived in just enough time for you to brush off the comment completely and focus on the task at hand. She took your orders and menus back with her before she brought back your drinks, setting them down in their respective places.

“And might I add, what a cute couple the two of you are!” Her voice was filled with delight as she smiled at you.

“Oh, no-” you started, Jake’s voice cutting you off.

“Thank you so much.” He smiled up at her from his seat as she walked away. You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow in confusion at him.

“Oh c’mon, we are a cute couple.” He took a drink of his water. “Plus, it’d be embarrassing and awkward for us all if I’d just said, ‘Oh God no’, you know?’” He laughed, checking the notification on his home screen.

His words stung. You found yourself just agreeing with him, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly curious as to why. Not a simple no, an ‘Oh God no’. It’d only hurt a little bit, though it shouldn’t have at all. What could be so wrong with you that someone asking if you two were dating would result in an ‘Oh God no’? Okay, it hurt a lot. The thought, now replaying in your mind, had completely soiled your mood. When the food arrived, you ate quietly, nodding or humming in agreement, sometimes disagreement, to any questions or statements he made during the rest of your breakfast. When the check came, he offered to cover the two of you and handed his card to the woman before you were able to make any objections. The walk back to the car was just as quiet, after you’d buckled yourself in Jake put the car in reverse, then promptly back into park.

“Okay, enough, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” You assured him, though his suspicions hadn’t let up.

“Actually, what’s the matter? Did I do something?” He seemed confused... like he wasn’t even sure he had done anything wrong, just wanted to make sure.

“No, everything is fine.”

“Something is obviously the matter,” He protested, crossing his arms over his chest, “and I’m not taking us home until you-”

“Dude, I said nothing is wrong. Can you fucking stop?” You recoiled at him; his face hardened at your words. You immediately felt regret, you didn’t mean to come off so harsh. After a few moments of silence, you spoke again. “I’m sorry.”

The drive home was silent. As you approached a red light, Jake took the aux charger from your side of the car, plugging his phone in and shuffling the playlist. Vienna filled the empty air as he drove. You desperately wanted out of the car, his eyes were intent on the road and his jaw was locked. You could see how tightened his muscles were as his neck vein had begun to become more prominent the longer he clenched his teeth together. He was mad, obviously, you’d basically just cussed him out for no reason besides your own stupid little crush. He had every right to ‘Oh God no’ that situation despite how it made you feel.

Finally, he broke the silence. “Why were you upset.” His voice was low, still lingering in confusion, but he was seemingly giving you an opportunity to explain yourself.

“It’s stupid, Jake, I just don’t want to talk about it.” You turned your face to him, “I should have just said that. I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Your eyes pleaded with a desperation that he would understand and drop the conversation altogether, forgive you so you could go back to having a normal day with him.

His eyes made no effort to look at you, still on the road. He turned off the interstate and onto a road that you knew did not lead to home. “Where are we going?” You asked, his demeanor did not change. Soon he pulled into a parking lot, one off the side of the road that was lingered with the occasional car. He let his head fall back onto the headrest before bringing his attention to yours after parking.

“Was it because of what I said to the waitress?” He asked, his gaze fixated on you. Your chest felt tight as you contemplated the ways you could answer his question without being completely honest.

“Yes.” You finally huffed out, “It just took me by surprise was all.”

“Is it because you don’t like me?” No hesitation from him at all, his focus still fixated on you and his eyes curious. You felt your chest tighten, unsure of how to respond at all. You shook your head and the two of you sat in silence as Leaving, On a Jet Plane played quietly in the background. It was the only thing you could focus on besides the look on his face.

“No, no, that’s not why,” You finally spoke, “It’s not a big deal.”

Jake’s facial expression did not move in the slightest, though his eyebrows creased together some more than before. He went to speak, though caught him.

“Okay.” He shifted in his seat, sitting up slightly from his last resting spot. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Like me?” He propped his elbow against the edge of the seat, turning his body slightly towards you as he watched you intensely now. You had no idea what the hell was running through his mind, but this all felt wrong. Like he was testing you somehow, the pit in your stomach grew as you let out a nervous laugh and swallowed hard on the words in your throat.

“Jake, come on,” he swiftly cut you off.

“No, tell me. Do you?” His voice was flat, you felt your heart flutter at his leading tone. Your face flushed with it and the quiver in your lip probably gave it away that you were completely unable to muster up any sort of response to his stern manner and request.

He had always been so difficult to read, especially now. The tension, which could clichély be physically cut with a knife, was something you knew you couldn’t get your way out of without giving him an answer.

Before you could begin to speak, Jake brought himself closer to you over the console. “What are you-” He grabbed your jaw, pulling you into him, and pressed his lips into yours. He swiftly moved his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, pushing his tongue through your teeth, and matched his movements with your own. His touch was rough yet gentle, he was so overtly aware of any move he made. The encounter caused heat to bubble in your abdomen. Your tongues swirled together, his head taking the lead as you whimpered against his lips and let a small whiney groan escape from your throat between a moment of disconnection. Your hand came up to touch his face, you circled your thumb over his jaw before running your fingers through his hair.

You’d both closed your eyes at some point when he pulled back, your foreheads touching as you attempted to let your breath catch up to a normal pace. His hand still rested on the back of your neck, he let it slide down your back as he inched your body closer to his, your fingers still entangled with his soft brown curls. You let your arms drop and he trailed his hand back up, placing his two forefingers under your chin to lift your eyes up to meet his. He gave you a soft smile and asked again, “Do you?”

“Maybe.” You whispered back to him, the grin on his face widening with your answer.

“I knew it.”

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goodcat888 · 3 years ago

Text

Lungs and Legs Cycling (Part One)

Alleycat Super Series. ASS. Incorporating CLASS. Central London Alleycat Super Series.

The series comprises Dassh 4 Cassh races and multi-checkpoint races and will encompass a total of 10 races. The series is based on accumulative points garnered over the races. All proceeds from the races will go towards charitable causes, such as the courier fund for injured pushbike couriers or dedicated reasons and projects. A non profit endeavour.

The top 3 will win cash prize's for each race and merchandise will be presented for other places. Further bonuses will be won for points leaders at the finale comprising Grand Prizes.

Series Champion £700

Series Runner up £350

2nd Runner up £175

4th Goody Bag

5th Goody bag

Subject to updates.

The point's breakdown will be; 1st-10 pts. 2nd-7pts. 3rd-4pts. 4th-2pts and 5th-1point.

Each race will have a standard breakdown of prizes, typically: 1st; £100. 2nd; £50. 3rd; £25. 4th; Hoody. 5th; T-shirt. 6th; Cap. Although this maybe subject to updates before the start of the race.

ASSDASSH-1 (CLASSRACE-1) 18/11/2022.

Dassh 4 Cassh 1. Leather Lane to Alexandra Palace and back again.

Race Report.

The turnout for the race wasn't stellar in numbers, but definitely in quality. The best in city were present and that was all that mattered. Quality over quantity is always good. 11 racers all told with some new faces. The enthusiasm and nervous energy for the race was present and it being a straight dash to Alexandra Palace and back again, due north/south meant that it would be a quick one. All estimates seemed to think it would be a 40 minute time for the winner, that was obliterated with Gabberz coming in at 32:54, which was extra special. This came as no surprise because he has dominated for most of the year in tandem with another. Meeting JHood who was responsible for the images was another high note. The inaugral Alleycat Super Series Dassh4Cassh race was a success and was enjoyed by all. Roll on the next one.

Race 1 Results.11 Racers

1st.Gabberz 10pts £120

2nd.Josh 7pts £60

3rd.Overkill 4pts £30

4th.Gra 2pts Hoody

5th.VgnKndrck 1pt T

6th.Joe Cap

7th.ThaiRob

8th.Goodcat McDank

9th.Chris

10th.Dillon

11th.Lam

ASSCAT-1 Point to Point Revealed (CLASSRACE-2) 16/12/2022.

ThrowawayCat. Celebrating the birthday. @Throwaway_London.

Checkpoints. Start/Finish LL. EC1

Great James St WC1.

Robert St NW1

Markham Sq SW3

St James SQ SW1

Lower Robert St WC2

Old James St SE15

Race Report.

This was the first multi checkpoint race in the series which celebrated the birthday of Chuck D who is the creator of Throwaway designs. He has contributed so much to racing et al over the years that it would be remiss not to dedicate this race to him. Hence all of the checkpoints were a nod to him. The race itself couldn't have been any closer between the two dominant racers over the last year, namely Gabberz and VgnKndrck. Both have dominated most races over the past year and the challenge for the rest is to try and break the hegemony that these two have created. A nod to Josh who has 2 2nd places and a 5th in his last 3 starts and to Gra who has 2 3rd's and 4th place in his last 3 races. Nods to all participants in the harsh weather which measured -3 degrees apparently. Another quality turnout with passable numbers. Nods to Timekeeper Tiger and design guru Lippo.

Race 2 Results. 9 Racers.

1st.VgnKndrck 10Pts £120

2nd.Gabberz 7Pts £60

3rd.Gra 4Pts £30

4th.IncompetentJ 2Pts Hoody

5th.Josh 1Pt T

6th.Joe/Pip Cap

7th.Goodcat McDank (Dfl)

8th Overkill (DQ)

Standings after 2 Races.

1. Gabberz. 17Pts 2Races

2. VgnKndrck. 11Pts 2

3. Josh. 8Pts 2

4. Gra. 6Pts 2

5. Overkill 4Pts 2

6. IncompetentJ 2Pts 1

Gabberz & VgnKndrck having a BLASST.

ASSDASSH-2 (CLASSRACE-3) 13/01/2023

Dassh 4 Cassh 2. Leather Lane to Crystal Palace and back again.

Race Report.

The turnout for ASS3 was good. Quantity coupled with quality and all told there were 21 racing. The batch of 24 spoke cards all sold which contributed towards the bench fund started by Chico Bandito for lost brother Robski. £160 was raised to go towards the fund. Much appreciated to all. There were some new faces again this time around. Some very fast boys from Cafeteros showed up on their road bikes which added to the excitement and some of the absent racers from the first 2 ASS events raced in this one which bolstered the numbers. there was more anticipation for this one than the other 2 which was understandable as momentum had been gathered. The kick off was 830pm and we all scrambled for the bikes as soon as Tiger called the start. VGnKndrck had chain trouble which hampered his progress for a win and Darien, a very fast lad also had chain trouble, Valentina who came 3rd in the Great Alleycat last year also raced even though she was feeling under the weather. We hammered it towards Blackfriars bridge heading to Crystal Palace at the base of the Antenna where Chico was holding checkpoint for the return and finish. The leaders hit blistering pace which was frightful on the busy roads of South London. Once again Gabberz dominated and came in first with an insane time of sub 40 minutes, CAB also hit a very fast time with Cafeteros Sanchez homing in on them with a great 3rd place. Rspct to Overkill who came in 4th to go with a win he attained the week before in a non ASS event which runs in tandem with the 3rd he gained at ASS1, great results for him. Gra hit 5th as he always does well. VgnKndrck would have undoubtedly done better if it wasn't for his chain issue's, but nevertheless came in 6th. Rspct to all participant's. Because it was Friday the 13th it was stipulated that if any racers turned up in a Hockey Mask in mimicry of Jason Voorhees from the film that they would gain 4 bonus points for going to the effort and also to carry the mask while racing. 5 did. Gabberz, VgnKndrck, Ronin, Overkill and Joachim. A great bit of fun. A great event and turnout. Roll on ASS4 slated for February the 24th. The first 3 races have been comparitively easy with reveals on destination et al. Onwards the series will become a touch more difficult.

Race 3 Results. 21 Racers.

1. Gabberz 10pts £130

2. CAB 7pts £65

3. Sanchez 4pts £30

4. Overkill 2pts Hoody&bits

5. Gra 1pt T&bits

6. VgnKndrck T&bits

7. Said

8. Darien

9. Ronin.

10.Joe.

4 bonus points to Gabberz, VgnKndrck, Overkill, Ronin & Incompetent Jo for Jason Mask while Racing on Friday the 13th.

Points Standing/races after ASS3.

Gabberz 31p/3r

VgnKndrck 15/3

Overkill 10/3

Josh 8/2

CAB 7/1

Gra 7/3

Incomp' Jo 6/2

Sanchez 4/1

Ronin 4/1

*****RACEFLASH BONUS*****

Part of the bonus points scheme is the introduction of the ClASSical theme Menage a Trois. The IlluminatiCat which will take place on the 11th of Febuary, the AthenaCat and the PaxRomanaCat which will be announced later in the year. Each race will have a similar prize allocation as ASS main races. If a rider participates in the 3 Classical races 5 bonus points will be gained and if someone wins all 3 races then 10 points will be gained.

Race Report

The Illuminaticat had a good turnout with 15 racers. The weather was quite warm if not sunny and the location on Dalston Lane outside the premises of About the Bike shop was sound. Across the road from The 3 Compasses pub which fit nicely with the theme of the race. Thanks to Dan and Stu from ATB for letting us start the race outside the shop. The race was attended by consistent participants with a few new faces. The start was quite muted as the participants got their bearings via navigation, but that didn't last long and pretty soon they were off. Altogether it wasn't such a long one, perhaps 23km which the winner achieved in about 45 minutes, as I predicted pre race. Some of the racer's also experienced some snags such as the Inner Temple being closed off on the Fleet St. entrance and therefore had to be accessed by the Temple lane entrance. This caused quite a stir during the post race discusssion as certain racer's didn't manage to get to the Inner Temple but still captured the church tower which which was allowed although still a technicality according to other's. Provision's were made to appease the two who had managed to get to the church proper, namely Gabberz and VgnKndrck. Bonus point's were allocated. Error's were made by some and lesson's were learnt by other's. Gabberz earned a few injuries by adorning the bonnet of a cab on the Strand and yet managed to win, rspct. Jordan who witnessed the event managed to roll in at fourth on his Omnium Cargo. The first 3 rolled in within 15 seconds of each other and 5 plus minutes ahead of the rest of the field. A great race apparently and a Historical education for most relating to the Freemasonic history of London. Roll on to the next one. To conclude it was great catching up with old and new faces as a good crowd of Non Racer's and Racer's attended the event.

15 racers.

1st Gabberz 100£

2nd Sanchez 50£

3rd VgnKndrck 30£

4th Jordan Hoody

5th Tim/Pip Hoody/Skulled T

6th Graham/Raphael Socks/Race Entry

7th Dolan Joe

8th Joe

9 Spartak

10 Overkill

Checkpoints

Start 124B Dalston Lane.E8

Corinthians Lodge, 337 Wick Road.E9

Masons Avenue.EC2

Supreme Council,10 Duke St.SW1

Benjamin Franklin's Hse, 32 Craven St.WC2

Andaz 40 Liverpool St.EC2

Freemasons Hall, 33 Great Queen.WC2

Templar Church, Temple EC4

Mazzini Blue plaque, 183 N. Gower St.NW1

Finish 124B Dalston Lane.E8

ASSCAT-2 Manifest Checkpoint (CLASSRACE-4) 24/02/2023

https://instagram.com/stories/frank_mcdank/3024367759870256614?utm_source=ig_story_item_share&igshid=MDJmNzVkMjY=

Race Report

The turnout was again quite impressive given the rather cold evening, personally I didn't think it would be as good as it turned out to be. There were some regular racers not present either which bodes really well for summer events. There were 21 at the start. The format was a checkpoint race which had been compiled by Filippo. The timekeeper was Tiger.

Altogether there were 7 checkpoints, 3 of which were manned by Chico Bandito/Ronin, James and Stu and Sandro, on 2 of the checkpoints a piece of paper was handed to the racer with an additional checkpoint pointing to Brixton prison. The race had a good flow in the a loop and the most logical start was to head for Emerald Court from Leather Lane which was less than 5 minutes away and then onto 5 Newman Passage and then down to Pickering Place on St James' st and so on. At the finish Joe P came in first followed by incompetent Jo and the Pip with Overkill, Gabberz and VgnKndrck in tow but that wasn't the end of it by far. As it turns out the first 4 racers who came in; certainly had good speed, but missed out with technicalities. Namely, on the manifest it stated Emerald Court and 2 of the first 3 had Emerald Street. Also stated on the Manifest, which was almost the size of a large postage stamp had number 5 Newman Passage on it rather than just Newman Passage which confounded the first 4 racers, therefore it transpired that Gabberz and Joseph who rode in at 5th and 6th were the only racers in the top 6 who had the technical data from the manifest done correctly. So, rather than disqualifying the first 4 I opted for a leapfrogging system instead. The same rules applied to all the others who came in thereafter. In the end the right result came through due to the technical data. Sympathies to JoeP, IncompetentJo, Pip and Overkill though as they had good speed but lost out on technicalities. In the end the results stood at:

Top 10/21Racers:

1. Gabberz 120£

2. VgnKndrck 70£

3. Benji 40£

4. Levi 25£

5. IncompetentJo Hoody

6. Spartak T

7. Overkill

8. Jack

9. Chris

10.JoeP

The return times are representative of speed within the race but the placings garnered reflect the technicsl data which is paramount as per the manifest. Return times vs New positioning.

Checkpoints.

S. Leather Lane EC1

1. Emerald Court WC1

2. No.5 Newman Passage W1

3. Pickering Place SW1

4. Brixton Prison SW2

5. Wapping Stairs East E1

6. Gibbons Rent SE1

7. Austin Friars EC2

F. Leather Lane EC1

Placings after ASS4

1. Gabberz 41P/4R

2. VgnKndrck 22/4

3. Overkill 10/4

4. Josh 8/2

5. CAB 7/2

Incomp'Jo 7/3

Gra 7/4

6. Benji 4/1

Sanchez 4/1

7. Ronin 4/1

8. Levi 2/2

Updated link

ASSDASSH 3 (CLASSRACE-5) 24/03/2023

Race Report

The wet weather took its toll on the race and the turnout could have been better although the quality of the racers was hard to top. Having has a Dassh north and south already the theme of this one was west. The destination was chosen by Tiger who opted for the Musical Museum just past Kew bridge on Brentford high street. 9.9 Miles from Leather Lane, therefore practically 20 miles there and back again, almost as the crow flies. The start was as normal, a flurry of excited racers who usually feel the effects of the nervous energy in the first 5 minutes of the race until they get into there stride. I was in a group with Kungfu Bob and Cemetery Tom as we hammered into the West end straight through a busy Friday night Shaftesbury Avenue, jammed packed with traffic and pedestrians which led the way into Piccadilly and then into the straights of Kensington Gore and the High Street and Olympia through to Hammersmith and Chiswick. Charles flew past us at the first part of Kensington which raised a comment or two, he overtook us at the beginning of the race so it was some consolation that we were in front of him since then. We past the Chis flyover/Roundabout heading towards our destination and saw Graham and Pip heading the other way, obviously Gra being a west London boy he knew exactly where he was going, Pip being a regular racer and the only brakeless was also flying. We caught up on Joe P. and all headed towards our goal. So heading back in a group was Me, Kungfu Bob, Cemetery Tom and Joe P. Taking advantage of the tailwind which was a headwind on the way there. We were flying back through Hammersmith onto Kensington when Kungfu Bob started to attack and took the lead of the group followed by Tom, I lost sight of Joe. This folllowed suit most of the way back until we got to Shaftesbury Avenue triangle where Tom and I managed to retake the postion from Kungfu Bob which set up a sprint from Theobald's Road into Leather Lane. In the end Bob came in 2 seconds ahead of me and Tom. Charles was the winner with blinding flat speed. Unfortunately Gabberz who was also contender sustained a puncture and had to get the Circle line back to Leather Lane. Overkill, Gra and VgnKndrck came in 2nd, 3rd and 4th with Pip 5th followed by Bob, Tom and Me with Joe as the tail. A great race at the end of the day with a top quality field. 10 raced. All racers apart from Joe, who stopped for a drink on the way back managed to get there and back again under 1 hour. In stark contrast to the last ASS race where he came in first and only lost on a technicality, you have to love the variation.

Result/10Racers

1. Charles/C.A.B £120&ASS.T

2. Overkill £60

3. Gra £30

4. VgnKndrck Hoody

5. Pip ASS. T

6. Thai[KFB]Rob LCEF Tea towel

7. McDank

8. Cemetery Tom

9. Joe P.

DNF. Gabberz.

Placings after ASS5 (Accommodating bonus points adjustments)

1. Gabberz 42pts/5races

2. VgnKndrck 25/5

3. Overkill 17/5

C.A.B 17/3

4. Gra 11/5

5. Josh 8/2

6. Incomp'tJo 7/3

7. Ronin 4/1

Sanchez 4/1

Benji 4/1

8. Levi 2/2

9. Pip 1/4

#tInstagram

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