#jacob gvf

[gretasfallingsky]

Off to the grocery store, darling. Noon will see my return.

[hailthegodsong]

BETTER

One-shot ~ Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 5.6k +

Summary: When you come down with a sickness at work, Jake picks you up and (mother hens) takes care of you at home. Sick fic comfort!!

A/N: this one shot was requested and I loved writing it so so much! I did also do the temperature reading in fahrenheit because I know most of my readers don't use celcius so theres that. Hopefully this makes you feel better anon!

Content Warnings: illness, cough, fever, sweat, restlessness, nausea, caretaking, so so much fluff it’s rotting my teeth

You’d woken up with a dry mouth and a slight tickle in your throat— nothing serious. Nothing that screamed cancel everything, you’re coming down with something. Just a mild scratchiness that had made you pause while brushing your teeth and frown at your reflection.

Jake noticed. “You okay?” he asked, half through a yawn, sleep still dragging at his voice as he leaned on the bathroom doorway, hair messy and shirt wrinkled from tossing in the night.

You shrugged and spit your toothpaste out before speaking, “Yeah. Just… throat’s kinda weird this morning.”

He tilted his head, arms folding across his chest. “Weird like how?”

You rinsed out your mouth and then smiled at him in the mirror. “Like I shouldn't've let you talk me into sitting with you on the balcony for two hours last night.”

Jake grinned, then stepped behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. He kissed your temple, lips warm and soft. “Worth it, though.”

You leaned into him for a second longer than you meant to, a quiet hum catching in your throat. That dull fatigue from last night was still hanging on. Not quite tired, not quite awake. You figured you just needed caffeine.

“Yeah, worth it. ,” you smiled at his sleepy reflection in the mirror. 

“Let me know if your throat gets worse though, okay?”

You nodded, pulling your hair into a ponytail. “Promise.”

—

It got worse.

By noon, your head felt too heavy for your neck. You’d stared at your screen for twenty minutes before realizing you hadn’t processed a word of the email open in front of you. Your body ached. Cold one second, flushed the next. And despite the hoodie you’d thrown on during your break, you couldn’t stop shivering.

You tried to tough it out. You really did. If you left work early, Jake would fuss, and you’d feel dramatic, and there was a meeting at two that were supposed to take notes for.

But by your lunch break, you began to feel dizzy. And nauseous.

You stood too fast from your chair and the room tilted sideways. You had to grip the edge of the desk to stay upright, teeth clenched together as you tried to breath through the rolling of your stomach. Everything felt just slightly wrong, like your body was a half-second behind your brain. An ache had crawled into your joints and you could feel heat rising under your skin and up your neck. You didn’t want to acknowledge it for what it was— but it was unmistakably a fever.

You didn’t even remember sitting down on the break room couch. You only realised you were curled up there when your phone buzzed in your hand, Jake’s contact photo lighting up your screen.

You squinted against the brightness as another unexpected wave of nausea washed over you.

Attached to your text chain was a blurry photo of a tiny frog sitting on the edge of a sidewalk, back legs stretched out like he was sunbathing. You smiled faintly, chest squeezing at the way Jake always shared the smallest, most random things with you just to feel close during the day.

Before you could respond, another text came through.

Jake: How are you feeling? That throat thing any better?

Your smile faded.

You typed slowly, thumbs heavy.

You: Actually I’m not feeling great. Thinking I might head home from work early

It took all of five seconds for his typing dots to appear.

Jake: Oh no. What’s wrong

You sniffled, trying to sit up straighter on the break room couch. It didn’t help. Your back throbbed and the world still tilted slightly when you moved, like your body wasn’t sure which direction was up anymore.

You began to type your response.

You: Dizzy achy nauseous cold. Might be coming down with something

The phone started ringing before you could even finished reading your own message let alone send it. 

You exhaled and slid your thumb across the screen. “Hi.”

Jake’s voice was deep and laced with panic. “You still at work? I’m coming to pick you up.”

“No, no, it’s fine—” You tried to sit forward again and stopped when your ribs twinged, a deep cough scraping up from your chest. You couldn’t hold it in and it broke through you with a force that made your head throb. It left you breathless and slumped, blinking at nothing.

He didn’t say anything for a second. You could practically hear the way his brow raised as if to say ‘you sure about that?’

“I’m coming to get you,” he said again, firmer now. “You can’t drive if you’re dizzy. And you sound like death. I’ll get Sam to drop me off and I’ll drive your car home.”

You let your eyes close. The fight went out of you in one slow breath. “Okay.”

“Text me when you’re in the lobby, alright? I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Okay,” you murmured, voice cracking. You stood slowly, and your limbs felt like they belonged to someone else, heavy and lagging behind your thoughts

Thankfully, your boss didn’t ask too many questions when you approached her desk, voice scratchy and eyes a little glassy. Maybe you looked as awful as you felt, because the moment you murmured that you weren’t feeling well and might need to head home early, she nodded and said, “Get some rest. Feel better soon.” 

You packed up slowly, hands trembling as you zipped your bag. The room tilted ever so slightly when you stood, like the ground didn’t quite want to stay put beneath you. You pulled your coat tighter around your aching frame, wincing as the zipper caught for a second, then began the sluggish walk to the elevator.

The lobby was quiet this time of day. Just the soft hum of the air conditioning vents and the click of your shoes against the floor. You sank into the small couch near the windows, tucking your arms tightly around your middle as a shiver worked its way up your spine. Your head tipped back against the cushion, eyelids heavy, stomach hollow and churning. The light from outside blurred in your vision, soft and unfocused, as you tried to breathe through the dizzy haze.

Now all you had to do was wait.

God, your skin hurt. That strange, restless ache was everywhere— your knees, your spine, even the muscles in your jaw. Your head was pounding from the inside out, temple throbbing every time you moved your eyes. Your face was hot, but the chill running through your limbs had you tucked into yourself like it was the middle of winter. You kept trying to get warm but couldn’t.

You felt embarrassed for being picked up like this. Too sick to function. Too weak to get yourself home. You hated asking for help.

But you weren’t the one who called— Jake had known. Had sensed that you needed him before you even said the words.

A minute passed. Maybe five.

Then you heard the automatic doors slide open, and through your half-lidded eyes, you saw him.

Jake stepped in with a determined eye, already scanning the lobby. His brows lifted when he spotted you, and the look on his face was something between heartbreak and relief.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, crouching in front of you.

You blinked at him, dazed. “Hi.”

He reached up and brushed the back of his fingers along your cheek, frowning at how warm you were.

“Shit, honey, you’re really not well,” he muttered.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, which might’ve had more weight if you didn’t sound like you’d been swallowing gravel.

Jake gave you the softest smile. “Sure you are.”

He helped you to your feet slowly, one hand bracing your lower back, the other slipping under your arm. When you wobbled, he pulled you in against him and held you there for a moment.

“Alright,” he murmured, lips brushing your hairline. “Let’s get you home.”

Jake didn’t let you walk more than a few steps on your own.

He guided you out of the building with one arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, the other hand covering yours where it clutched your coat closed. You leaned into him without thinking . Your legs felt unsteady, and your body was too heavy, your skin prickling with cold despite the fever baking beneath it.

When the wind hit your face outside, you shivered so hard it knocked the breath out of you. Jake stopped instantly.

He looked down at you with that furrowed brow, the one he got when something was wrong and he couldn’t fix it fast enough. Without a word, he shrugged out of his black corduroy jacket— the one he pretended not to know that you often stole off the back of his chair— and wrapped it around your shoulders like a blanket. His hands smoothed it over your arms gently, tucking it in, like you were something fragile.

“Better?” he murmured.

You nodded weakly. “Smells like you.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. “Lucky for you, I smell amazing.”

Apparently you were too sick to appreciate the joke, as you merely hummed and continued sluggishly walking towards the car parked a few feet away. He helped you into the passenger seat, closing the door carefully once you were in. By the time he got in on the driver’s side, you were already curled up as tightly as the seat belt would allow, trying not to make your shivering too obvious.

Jake didn’t waste a second before the engine started and the heater was blasting within moments.

You leaned toward the vent, clutching his jacket tighter around you like it was the only thing keeping you upright. The warmth stung at first as your skin was so sensitive, but you sighed with relief as it finally started to thaw the chill in your bones.

Jake drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting palm-up between you on the console, waiting in case you reached for it. You did.

The heat rose until it was thick and heavy, making your eyelids droop, and Jake pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, visibly sweating but still not turning it down.

“I’m good,” he said quickly, noticing the way you peeked at him. “Don’t worry about me.”

You must’ve drifted off, because when the car stopped, Jake was already leaning over you to unbuckle your seatbelt. You blinked at him, disoriented, your head pounding behind your eyes.

“We’re home,” he said gently. “I’m gonna carry your stuff in. Can you walk if I hold you?”

“Mmhm.”

He helped you inside with slow, steady steps, and you clung to him without shame now. Your body just didn’t have the strength to do anything else.

Once you were inside, he guided you to the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you.

“Okay, don’t move,” he said softly, brushing your knee with his hand. “Let me get your pajamas.”

You watched through heavy eyes as he opened your dresser drawers with an easy familiarity, pulling out your favorite sleep shirt— the worn, oversized one you always wore when you needed comforting. He even found the fuzzy socks with the tiny suns on them that you always kept in the back of your drawer.

He turned down the blankets, fluffed the pillows, and added the heating pad to your side of the bed without a word. The care in every motion made your chest ache.

“Alright,” he said, coming back to you. “Arms up, sweet girl.”

You managed it, and he helped you out of your work clothes with gentle, efficient hands, always keeping you covered, never letting you feel exposed to him or the cold air. He tugged the pajama shirt down over your head and knelt to help you into your socks, smoothing them over your feet like you were the most delicate thing in the world.

Once you were finally bundled under the covers, he sat down on the edge of the bed and ran the backs of his fingers down your flushed cheek. His eyes moved slowly over your face, frowning softly at how pale you looked beneath the flush of your fever.

You leaned into the touch without meaning to.

“You’re still too warm,” he whispered, thumb trailing lightly along your temple. “Way too warm.”

He reached over to the nightstand and picked up the thermometer he’d grabbed earlier— waited for you to open your mouth before slipping it under your tongue. When it beeped, he didn’t hide his reaction.

“102.8,” he said under his breath, and then met your eyes again. “No wonder you feel like hell.”

He reached into the drawer where he knew you kept a small stash of meds— the way he navigated your space made it so clear how often he was here, how well he knew the rhythm of your home. He popped the cap on the bottle of tylenol and shook out two pills, then grabbed the glass of water that had been sitting on the nightstand from this morning.

“Here,” he murmured, sitting you up gently with one arm behind your back. “Take these, sweetheart. We’ve gotta get that fever down.”

You swallowed them obediently, the water barely touching your dry throat.

He eased you back down again, smoothing the blankets around you and tucking them in tight under your arms. You were already drifting, eyes glassy and heavy-lidded, but you watched as he looked around the room searching for something.

A second later, he let out a quiet sigh and bent down beside the bed, fishing around beneath it.

When he came back up, he was holding your tiny, raggedy teddy bear you always slept with tucked under your arm. The one Jake always rolled his eyes at. The one he used to grumble about stealing his spot in the crook of your neck.

He tucked it carefully under your arm, smoothing your hand around it like it was the most precious thing in the world— not some beat-up childhood toy. You were barely conscious, but the gesture registered somewhere through the fog.

When he looked back at you, his eyes were soft. Completely gone for you. He leaned over again, kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth.

“You’re okay,” he whispered. “Just need some rest.”

His hand lingered, brushing back the damp edges of your hair, feeling along your forehead again, then down the slope of your jaw, over your collarbone, like he couldn’t stop reassuring himself that you were still there, still breathing. Still burning up, but safe.

Finally, he pulled away slowly, like it hurt to leave you even for a second.

“I’m gonna make you something warm, baby,” he said. “Soup or broth or something. You just rest. I’ll come check on you in a few.”

He turned down the light, making the room soft and quiet, and padded barefoot into the hallway, the sound of cabinets opening faintly drifting back as he moved through your kitchen like it belonged to him too.

You didn’t hear the soft clatter of the knife on the cutting board, or the bubbling that began on the stove as Jake stirred together a pot of broth, vegetables, herbs, and a few cloves of garlic he crushed with the flat of his hand. You didn’t notice the way he leaned over the pot, tasting, adding a pinch of turmeric, squeezing half a lemon in like his mom always did when someone had a fever. He kept the burner low and the lid slightly askew, letting the steam fill the kitchen with something rich and healing.

He checked on you every five minutes. Barely got through peeling a carrot without standing at the doorframe to your room, arms crossed, watching the way your chest rose and fell beneath the blankets. You were curled in a loose ball, one leg half-tangled in the sheets, hugging that teddy bear like it was his stand-in.

After a while, he let the soup simmer, set out a bowl, and set it on the counter to cool just enough not to burn your tongue.

You stirred in bed with a faint rustle, a slow groan that carried into the hallway. Jake was already there before your eyes were fully open. He came to your side, crouched down, fingers brushing your forehead again. Still hot, still too hot.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said gently. “You waking up?”

You nodded, but your face scrunched up almost instantly, like the act of opening your eyes had split your skull in two. You groaned again, pressing the heel of your hand to your temple.

“Hurts,” you whispered, barely audible.

Jake leaned in closer, smoothing your hair back. “I know, baby. I know. That fever’s a real nasty one.”

You winced, eyes barely open. “Feels like I got hit by a train. Or… a bus,” you grumbled. “Or both,” you added, groaning dramatically.

You blinked at him, eyelids heavy, throat dry and tight. You didn’t even feel thirsty, but your mouth was like paper, your lips tacky. Still, when Jake brought the glass to your lips, one hand steady at the back of your head, you drank slowly, just to please him.

“There you go,” he murmured, voice low and warm. “That’s it, sweetheart.”

His fingers brushed a bit of hair from your cheek, lingering there like he couldn’t help himself. You swore his thumb had memorized the shape of your face by now— always tracing, always checking. Temperature, texture, tension.

“Think you can eat a little?” he asked, nodding to the bowl on the nightstand. Steam still curled lazily from the broth, fragrant and comforting.

You nodded faintly. “Yeah… I think so.”

Jake slipped an arm around your back, gently lifting you upright and propping pillows behind you until you were supported.

“Here.” He settled beside you, balancing the bowl and spoon. “Let’s go slow.”

Your voice was a rough whisper when you looked at the soup and managed, “Thank you.”

Jake’s eyes softened. “You don’t have to thank me. What else can I do, my love? I hate seeing you like this.”

You frowned, scooping up a spoonful. The warmth was good, heaty and comforting.

“Just need you to hold me,” you murmured between sips. Your voice was terrible— hoarse and cracked in the middle. Jake visibly winced at the sound of it, heart twisting.

Something in his face crumpled sweetly, his shoulders dropping as if your words cracked his chest open.

“Oh, my love…” he whispered, already shifting behind you on the bed. “C’mere.”

He shifted carefully, and gathered you into his arms cautiously as not to spill your bowl of soup, letting your weight melt back against his chest as you leaned into him. “Better?” he whispered into your hair.

“Mm,” you hummed sleepily, nodding as you lifted another spoonful.

His hands began to rub slow, soothing circles against your spine as you ate slowly, making your way through the broth.

When you were down to the last bit, Jake reached around, gently took the bowl and spoon from your hands, and set them aside. His arms came back around you at once, pulling you in close.

You sighed, shaky and pained, and leaned back against him, letting your aching body melt into the soft, bare skin of his chest. Your legs curled in beneath the blankets, your forehead resting against his shoulder.

He held you like that, whispering nothing words, just soft sounds and kisses to your temple. He rubbed your arm with the pads of his fingers, soothing your shivers away with the warmth of his body.

And finally, cocooned in his arms, you slipped under again, your last thought the feel of his lips against your burning skin.

You slept almost the entire afternoon. Jake never left the apartment.

He moved quietly through your space, cleaning up dishes from earlier, folding a bit of laundry that had been forgotten in the dryer, and wiping down the counters like he couldn’t sit still. Every few minutes, he checked in on you— just peeking through the door, watching your chest rise and fall beneath the covers, or feeling your forehead to make sure your fever hadn’t climbed any higher.

At one point, he pressed a fresh glass of water onto your nightstand and adjusted the curtains to let in a little golden light, just soft enough to keep the rom warm without hurting your aching eyes when you did wake.

When his stomach started growling, he made himself a quick dinner and sat quietly at the kitchen table, poking at the food like his heart was still in the bedroom beside you.

The apartment was quiet. Just the sound of a clock ticking above the sink, the hum of the refrigerator, and you, sniffling lightly in your sleep from down the hall.

Jake barely touched his plate.

Later, after the soup on the stove was cooled and packed into containers, Jake slipped into the dark of your room again, quiet as ever.

You were still curled in the same spot— tangled around that ridiculous teddy bear, your hair a little damp at the edges from the fever.

Jake sighed. He knelt beside the bed again, reaching out to press the back of his hand to your cheek, then your forehead, then your neck. You were still too warm— not dangerous, not worse, but hot enough to make him frown in the dark.

With a soft breath, he stripped off his shirt and slid in behind you.

You didn’t stir much, but your body instinctively turned into his, seeking the comfort. His arms wrapped around you immediately, hand splaying over your belly as he tucked your head beneath his chin.

He held you close, letting his cooler skin draw some of the heat from yours, wishing he could take more of it from you, just to make you rest easier.

Eventually, his eyes closed. His breathing slowed, matching the rhythm of yours. He drifted off like that, one hand gently tracing shapes against your side.

It was hours later when he woke again.

You were shifting in his arms, restlessly tossing, pulling at the blankets, breathing unevenly. Jake opened his eyes to find you awake, face creased with discomfort, your body radiating heat again like a furnace.

“Hey,” he whispered, instantly more alert. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

You groaned softly, curling tighter. “Everything hurts. Can’t sleep.”

Jake rubbed your back slowly, his other hand finding yours beneath the blanket. “Where?”

“My head. My back. My legs. I can’t get comfortable,” you whispered, voice wrecked. “Feel nauseous again too.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Jake sat up and leaned over you, brushing the sweaty hair from your face. He pressed his hand gently to your forehead again, then down along the side of your throat, as if he could ease the ache away with his fingertips alone.

“You’re burning up again,” he said softly. “Hang on.”

He got out of bed, disappearing into the dark for only a moment. You heard the sound of water running, cabinets opening. He returned with a cool, damp cloth in one hand and a pot of pills in the other.

You barely resisted as he dabbed your face and neck with the cool cloth, whispering soft things. They weren’t even words half the time, just the sound of his voice, steady and low. You wondered if he was just that tired that he wasn't making sense, or if his voice intended no more than to be a lullaby meant to soothe.

Jake helped you sit up slowly, tucking pillows around your back, guiding the pills to your lips with a glass of cool water. You grimaced as you swallowed. Your throat was raw, but he praised you like you’d run a marathon.

“There you go, baby,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “Good job. Try to get some more sleep now. I’m right here.”

Jake climbed back into bed beside you, immediately reaching for you, easing you back against his chest tenderly. His palm settled between your shoulder blades, warm and grounding, then began its slow path down your spine. He pressed long, steady strokes, just the right pressure over the muscles you’d told him ached the most.

His touch never left you. Up and down, slow circles at the base of your neck, gentle thumbs pressed beneath your shoulder blades, the kind of love you didn’t have to earn, but was just given, because you needed it, and he wanted to give it to you.

He adjusted the pillows behind you carefully, then tucked your head beneath his chin, pressing the softest kiss to your temple.

You shifted faintly, body heavy, but your fingers curled against his arm like you were trying to stay awake.

Jake caught it. He dipped his head a little, brushing his nose against your hair.

“Sleep, baby,” he whispered. “I’m right here. Not going anywhere.”

You made a tiny sound in reply, but your grip loosened. And just like that, you let go.

You fell asleep in his arms, breath softening against his collarbone, but Jake didn’t stop. Even with your body slack and still, he kept rubbing slow, rhythmic circles along your back, his hand gliding over your spine like a balm, like a promise. He massaged your shoulder where you always carried tension, pressed gently against the sore spots down your sides, careful not to wake you.

He didn't leave, not even for a second. Because if you were hurting, then Jake was staying. Just like he said he would.

– 

Jake eventually passed out, hands still pressed against your back as sleep claimed him. Morning came quickly, and you found yourself stirring in an empty bed.

And you felt... like absolute shit.

But maybe a different kind of shit.

The kind where your head still throbbed and your throat still felt like gravel and your whole body was sore— but you weren’t on fire anymore. Your brain felt foggy but no longer boiling in your skull.

You stirred under the covers and winced immediately at your aching body.

From the doorway of the room, you heard footsteps. Jake was beside you in seconds.

“Goodmorning beautiful,” he whispered, crouching at the side of the bed. “How’re you feeling? You need anything? How's your head?” He was already reaching for your face, pressing his hands against your cheeks to feel your temperature.

You blinked at him blearily. “Jake, I’m fine—”

“You’re not fine, you’re sick,” he corrected. “Fever’s down a little though. You’re not sweating anymore.”

“I feel gross,” you mumbled, voice cracking like dry leaves. “But less… death-y.”

Jake’s eyes softened. “I’ll take that.”

He smoothed your hair back again and tucked the blanket around your shoulders even though you were already half-buried in it.

“Don’t get up. I’ll bring you tea and toast. Then I’ll run a bath if you feel up for it. And I washed all your towels, by the way. The soft one’s on top.”

You blinked again. “You washed my towels?”

“Baby, I washed everything,” he said, giving you a look. “Been housewifing it up in here. I even wiped down your light switches.”

You let out the tiniest laugh and buried your face in the pillow.

“I could look after you sick for the rest of our lives and I’d still think you’re perfect.” Jake leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your hair. “But please don’t. I like you better healthy,” he added.

You gave him a sleepy, crooked smile. “Weirdest love confession I’ve ever received.”

He grinned, but only for a moment— his brows pulled together again as he cupped your cheek, just feeling the temperature under your skin.

“Still too warm,” he said under his breath. “I’ll get the tea. And maybe some fruit. You need some food in your system. Don’t move.”

“It’s not like I’m inclined to run away right now.”

He narrowed his eyes at you playfully, like you might rebel at any second, then stood and kissed your temple, again, before leaving the room. You could hear him in the kitchen within moments— opening drawers, pouring water into the kettle, pacing like you were on the verge of collapse and he had to be ready.

You smiled faintly into the pillow. Your body still ached, and your sinuses were stuffed, and you couldn’t imagine doing anything but staying in bed for another twelve hours.

But you had Jake.

And even if he hovered like a worried grandmother, and whispered about your too-high-fever under his breath like it was haunting him, he was yours.

And he was there.

Jake returned to the bedroom with a fresh mug of tea and a cautious expression. His hair was pulled back messily, like he’d been running his hands through it too many times while pacing the hallway, and he had that boyish furrow in his brow he got when he was trying not to concentrate.

He handed you the mug gently, watching you sip like it might shatter in your hands. “Alright. Be honest with me, how are we feeling?”

You gave a tired shrug. “Still shitty. But less of the delirious kind.”

“That’s not exactly a raving review,” he muttered, eyes scanning your face.

You were about to say something cheeky, but he cut in, already crouching beside the bed, one hand brushing hair from your forehead with exaggerated care.

“I was thinking maybe a bath,” he offered softly. “Something warm, not too hot. Steam might help your sinuses, and your muscles are probably screaming. I put the magnesium salts in already.”

You blinked. “You ran the bath?”

“Well, yeah. I knew if I waited to ask, you’d tell me not to bother,” he said, trying for a light tone, but his eyes were serious. “I’ll come sit with you. Just in case you feel dizzy again.”

“I’ll be fine,” you murmured, not wanting to make a big deal of it. “It’s not like I’m gonna faint in the tub.”

Jake’s lips pressed into a line.

“Let me come with you. I’ll keep you upright and feed you grapes if necessary.”

You smiled faintly, sinking back into the pillows. “Only if you join me.”

That made him pause. “Join you? In the bath?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, eyes fluttering closed again. “I just… I want you close.”

There was a beat of silence, then the soft sound of Jake exhaling through his nose.

“Alright,” he said, already smoothing the blanket down. “But only ‘cause you asked. And also ‘cause I was planning to anyway.”

He helped you up with extreme care, hands steady at your waist, arm around your back, and moving like you were made of glass. You leaned against him as he led you into the bathroom, warm air curling around your legs as you stepped inside.

The tub was full, the water tinted slightly from the salts he must have added, and the lights were just a soft glow, dimmed to a warm hum.

He helped you out of your clothes, whispering little reassurances the whole time, before lowering you slowly into the bath. The moment your body hit the warmth, a full body sigh slipped from your mouth.

“Oh my god,” you breathed. “That’s perfect.”

Jake smiled, then stripped down beside you and climbed in behind you, his chest to your back, thighs bracketing yours beneath the water. The moment he got settled, his hands found your shoulders, thumbs pressing slow, gentle circles into the muscles there, working downward..

You melted into him, your head lolling slightly to the side.

He didn’t say anything for a while, just kissed your damp hair and kept massaging, letting the water do half the work, and his touch do the rest. Every now and then he whispered little murmurs like "You're okay, I've got you,"  though his hands never stilled.

Finally, through the haze of steam and comfort and warmth, you whispered, “I love you.”

Jake’s hands paused. Then moved again, slower, steadier.

You turned your head just enough to glance up at him, eyes heavy but sincere. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Jake’s heart clenched like a fist in his chest. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone, then your temple, then your shoulder, his palms smoothing up and down the skin on your arms.

“I’ll always take care of you,” he murmured, voice low. “Every time. Whether you want me to or not.”

You smiled weakly and let your head fall back against his shoulder again. He held you tighter, your back to his chest, arms around your waist, the two of you surrounded by a world slowed down.

You stayed like that until the water began to cool, and even then, Jake didn’t move until you whispered you were ready. He dried you off carefully, like you were something precious, dressed you in your softest pajamas, then helped you back into bed.

He even tucked the infamous teddy bear under your arm again, muttering some dramatic annoyance at the small, ragged thing, before kissing your forehead and climbing into bed behind you.

Wrapped in Jake’s arms, the worst of the aches still lingering but your body finally starting to relax, you let your eyes fall shut. His warmth at your back, the quiet sound of him breathing behind you, made everything begin to feel a little less heavy.

You were still sick, still wiped out, but you didn’t have to do anything else right now. 

Jake adjusted the blanket over your legs, then rested his chin lightly against your shoulder.

After a long pause, he whispered, “I love you.”

You hummed faintly, barely a sound, your eyes already closing.

His hand smoothed over your arm once, slow and careful. “Get some sleep.”

And you did. Tag List: @frogkiszka @hailtheaeon @allof--mylove @scarabsinthestardust @musicislove3389 @lightsofthe-living-gvf

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Last Minute Changes - Jake Kiszka’s Version

A/N: Remember when I said Sam was Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker coded?? Yeah, well… So is Jake, and since we have now experienced so much Ballerina Jake on stage, I just couldn’t help myself. Also disclaimer, I haven’t done ballet in 5+ years now, so please forgive me if I misname anything. Also, if you are not familiar with the Nutcracker pas de deux, I have linked it HERE for you to go watch (I recommend watching it before reading this, if you have the time or even just the desire to!). Please excuse any errors as always, and I hope you all like it! <3

WARNINGS: Excessive language, excessive practicing, some name calling (bitch, asshole, etc), hate!fucking, asshole!Jake, degradation, fingering, edging, slight mirror play, overstimulation, choking, biting, sort of public sex? sex in a studio, unprotected sex.

MASTERLIST

••••

“You two will be excellent together!” You can hear the smile in your choreographer’s voice. At least one of you is excited. “Well, have a lovely day, dear and I will see you back tomorrow to continue rehearsals.”

You say your goodbyes and hang up the phone, immediately sighing to yourself as you toss your phone to the side.

This is just great, you think to yourself.

What are the odds that the original Cavalier would suffer an injury and have to back out and Jake of all people, will be the one stepping in. It’s a serious lose/lose situation for all parties involved.

It has been quite some time since you’ve worked with Jake Kiszka, but to your knowledge he is no different than he used to be. Arrogant, cocky and an absolute asshole. Not to mention, the extensive hours that he chooses to practice are arguably a little unhealthy and excessive. Though, you have to give a nod to the way he strives for perfection. He’s one of the most talented dancers within the Ballet company the two of you work for. It’s admirable in its own sort of fucked up way.

Not that you don’t strive for that same level of perfection, you just have a different view and approach on how to get there.

After a moment or two of sulking, you decide to call Danny. A fellow dancer at your company and one of your best friends - but also a pretty close friend of Jake’s, you’re almost certain.

The phone barely rings twice before an excited Danny is answering the phone.

“Hello?” Danny’s voice finally cuts through, warm and genuine. As it always is.

“Hey! So uhm…” you start to trail off. “You know Anthony, right ? The guy who was originally the Cavalier?”

“I do, why? What happened?” He asks, concern and curiosity seeping into the way he speaks. “You sound kinda upset...”

“Oh, I’m definitely upset… Anthony has an injury and is being required to take a break…” you pause for a moment, before adding more details. “I mean, he seemed to be in some pain when we were practicing last night, but he told me not to worry.” A long sigh pushes out of your lungs. “But, now Jake is Cavalier...”

What you can only assume is slightly stunned silence, takes over his end of the phone.

“Jake…?” He questions finally. You can practically see his raised eyebrows and wide eyes. “Jake is Cavalier now?”

“Yeah…” You confirm, sighing heavily at the incredibly draining thought of it. “Danny, I don’t even know what to do.”

“Are you joking? What do you mean you ‘don’t know what to do?’” Danny practically scoffs at your words. “You’ve always wanted this part. You would really let Jake ruin this for you? That’s kinda ridiculous, bug.” He scolds you. “Not only that, but you’re already well into rehearsals. You’ve only got a few days left before dress rehearsals start up.”

“Danny, Have you not worked with him?!” You laugh humorously into the phone. “He’s an ass. A complete and total fucking ass.”

Danny laughs at your little outburst, immediately taking up for his friend. “I have and… yes, he can be a lot to handle, but he’s a perfectionist. Everything he does on stage has to be perfect, in his mind.”

You bite at your bottom lip, not at all soothed by Danny’s words whatsoever. You’d made up your mind about Jake and that was that.

“You two will be phenomenal together,” Danny says, breaking the moment of silence. “Give it a go. Don’t just throw away your dreams of doing sugar plum just because of this.”

“I’m really not… it’s just… I really don’t wanna have to do that pas de deux with Jake.” His name spits out of you with pure distaste, making Danny laugh lightly. You can imagine the gentle shake of his head, too.

“Like I said… you two will be amazing,” Danny reiterates, tone warm and genuine. “Don’t stress it too much. Just do what you do best and I’m sure everything will be cool.”

<>

The first few days of rehearsing with Jake go… well, anything but smoothly. Things are rocky and feel out of place, some parts of the routine having to be changed to suite you and Jake, instead of you and your original partner, Anthony.

And today’s practice rolls around too quickly, just like the last three days have. You go to bed, only to wake up feeling like you only slept for a solid five minutes, before you have to get up and reconvene with Jake all over again.

For the first time since joining this professional company, it feels like actual work. Not that it isn’t always work, but you’ve not ever felt this genuinely frustrated by the thought of going to the studio.

The door of the building slams closed behind you, finally separating you from the chilly, early December air.

You make your way down the long hallway, towards the room that your instructor had originally assigned for you and Anthony to use for practicing your Pas De Deux, but has now been for you and Jake.

As you reach the door, you can’t hear anything from the other side of it, and you wonder if Jake is even around yet. In all fairness, you are incredibly early. However, you’ve come to know that Jake takes early to a whole new level.

You open up the door to find he’s nowhere to be seen. Though he isn’t present just yet, realization is like a slap across the face, as it has been each day since you’ve started rehearsing with Jake.

It hits you in a brand new wave. Every. Single Day: This is really happening. You are stuck with Jake from now, until the end of the run.

But, there’s never enough time to dwell on what’s already in motion - which you’ve come to realize that it’s probably better off that way. You shove all the thoughts and feelings stirring up, as far back as they will go, placing your bag and coffee down, so you can begin getting ready to warm up.

Unfortunately for you, not nearly enough time passes before the sound of the door handle is beckoning for your attention and Jake is stepping through the doorway.

You turn to face him, a tight lipped smile being the only thing he offers you as he turns around to close the door. So, you return the half-assed smile and go back to putting on your pointe shoes and stretching out.

The more you spend time rehearsing with him, the more you realize that truly, he’s absolutely gorgeous. Quite possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever had the pleasure of dancing with. But, it isn’t really feeling so much like a pleasure to actually be dancing with him.

You swallow down the annoyance already bubbling up, “Do you need to warm-“

“I warmed up already,” Jake cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “I’ve been here for a while working on my variation.”

He places his things down, then makes his way over to you.

The annoyance floods right back in like it never even left, “Alright, then.”

“Let’s work on those new pieces we added.” It comes out as a command, setting your body even more ablaze.

“No need to get all bossy, Jacob.” You bite rather harshly. “That’s what I’m here for. Not to just bullshit around.”

“I wasn’t-“ Jake stops himself short, the two words sounding very defensive and annoyed.

The audacity for HIM to be annoyed.

He sucks in a sharp breath, trying to calm himself. “I wasn’t trying to be commanding.”

“Whatever.” You glare up at him, filling the space between you with even more tension.

“We can just carefully skim through the whole thing, sans the lifts, if you’d like.”

He stares at you with what can only be read as a stunned expression for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders and reaching up to roll the sleeves of his shirt.

“Ready?” Jake extends his hand out towards you, while clearly trying his best to release the unwanted tension in his shoulders.

You take his hand and let him guide you, stepping through slowly until you reach the first lift.

“Aaaand we’re skipping this part,” Jake sings in a mumble, moving with you into the next few steps.

You move with him flawlessly through it all, letting him guide you around the floor. It might even feel nice, if it isn’t for the raging distaste you have for him.

The softness of the which he handles you, doesn’t go unnoticed, though. You notice it almost right away and it slips you into a distracted daze, focusing more on the way his face keeps a calm and even expression and his body moves so fluently.

“Shit!” Jake hisses suddenly, quickly followed by a gasp from you as you bump into his body, causing you both to stumble. “Are you even paying attention?! Goddamn.”

“You grabbed my arm wrong.” You lie quickly, smirking internally as you watch pure annoyance start to show itself all over his face at even the suggestion that he’d messed up.

“You’re joking, right?” Jake snaps at you, practically burning holes into your head with his intense stare.

“No, I’m not joking.” You fire back, trying to make your eyes just as cold and harsh as his are, “There’s a lift there, Jacob.”

Any sort of normal, appropriate volume for the space the two of you occupy is suddenly out of the window completely.

“We aren’t even doing the fucking lifts right now!” Jake’s hands fly into the air dramatically.

“Jesus Christ. This is already giving me a fucking headache.” Your fingers rub at your temples and you fight to not raise you voice like Jake just had. “Let’s just start over? We can do the damn lifts this time, if that makes you happier.”

“Just don’t fucking kill yourself.” Jake mumbles, adjusting the bun hanging lowly at the back of his head.

“If something happens to me, it’ll be because you’ve dropped me.” You scoff, emphasizing with an intense eye roll. “And I wouldn’t put that past you.”

For once, you seem to have stunned him into silence for a brief moment.

“Are you not capable of just fucking practicing?” Jake questions, dropping his arms down to his sides, his shoulders slumping. “Or is it always just going to be a bitching contest?” He takes a step closer to you, pointing and finger at your face. “Because if so, I fucking quit. They can find you a new partner.”

There’s barely a beat of crippling silence before he’s adding on, “And good luck getting your shit together with him before dress rehearsal in three days.”

Your jaw drops as shock washes over you. The first instinct of your body is to simply just reach up and smack him, however, it’s not worth the consequences that will surely follow such an action.

Getting down on the floor, you start frantically untying your pointe shoes.

“What are you doing?” Jake’s volume is still a little too loud for a place of work. “Get up.”

“I have a fucking better idea-“ You pull both pointe shoes off quickly and stand back up. “Find yourself a new partner, dick.”

With that, you storm over to your bag and drop your pointe shoes inside. You grab your regular shoes and your bag, not even turning back to look at him as you make your way to the door.

So much force is put behind your movements as you jerk the door open and slam it closed as you leave.

“Woah, there, hot stuff…” Josh greets you, with an air of caution to his tone. “What’s got you so pissed off?”

“Your twin.” You respond flatly. No emotion for him to gauge in your tone whatsoever as you continue storming down the hallway.

“Right, right… Cause he got…” he sighs, trailing off.

“Yeah…”

“How about we go take a little break?” Josh suggests as he catches up with you, stopping you in your tracks. “I was about to go grab some coffee on my way home, but you can come along and i’ll just bring you back here after?”

Though, you aren’t sure if you’ll even want to come back yet, you give him a slight nod, and that’s all he needs before his arm is motioning for you to follow him.

The two of you walk to his car in silence for a minute, until you’re both inside and buckled in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Josh asks as he starts his car.

A strained sigh forces its way out of your lungs.

“I mean…He’s just…” you pause, trying to word yourself carefully as you don’t want to disrespect Josh by talking so harshly about his brother.

But Josh beats you to the proper words you’re searching so hard for. “Hard to work with?”

You hold back the scoff that bubbles up in your throat. “Yeah… Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Much to your surprise, a genuine giggle leaves Josh’s lips as he drives through the little bit of lunch hour traffic lingering on the streets of the city.

“You don’t have to sugar coat it, love,” he assures you, flashing you a quick smile. “I know he can be a bit… mm…difficult.”

“He acts like I’m not also just as much of a perfectionist! I don’t get it!” Your hands gesture up for emphasis, slamming back down into your lap with a soft smack. “I felt like I was having to walk on egg shells earlier.”

“I wish I could sit here and tell you that things will get better, but…” Josh trails off, running his hand over his face. “This part is stressing him out. He never expected to be doing it… I know he doesn’t want to fuck it up. Now, that doesn’t excuse his actions, but just…give him some time. He will loosen up eventually. Hopefully…”

Despite Josh’s words being true, you don’t feel as though they’ve really soothed you very much, if at all.

“You haven’t danced with him in a really long time, either and you dance differently now. I mean that in a good way, but Jake is also having to learn how you work now, on top of everything on his end.” Josh adds, having sensed the uncertainty still lingering on your face.

“I’m not going to lie to you… I’ve been fucking up, too.” You tell him honestly. “Like our routine.”

Josh looks over at you, clearly surprised. “You? You’ve been fucking up?” He questions. “How? I watched you and Anthony do it just last week and it was beautiful!”

“I… I don’t know. I guess Jake just… makes me nervous?” You admit.

Josh turns his face towards the window, trying to hide the grin tugging at his lips until he can collect himself.

But before Josh even has the chance to formulate a response to that, you’re asking him the question that’s been burning your brain since you left the studio.

“Do you think he’ll still be there when we get back?” You ask him softly. The fear of having to go to your director and explain such an outburst between you and Jake, settling deep within your bones. Or worse, Jake has already gone to someone and explained the situation, ultimately kicking you from your role.

“I can assure you, he’ll be there when we get back.” Josh answers seriously. “He isn’t going anywhere.

The conversation about Jake drops for the remainder of your little adventure. Until you’re watching the studio slowly come back into your line of sight, as Josh drives the two of you back.

“What if he’s still mad?” You can’t help but bring the situation back to the surface.

Josh’s shoulders slump slightly, and he seems to be thinking about the best way to answer you. Because the sickening truth is, even he knows that Jake is probably still boiling below the surface, just waiting for another fuck up from you, or anyone else, to send him exploding all over again.

“Just… Don’t go back in guns blazing…” He tells you, trying to choose his words carefully. “Try to be level headed and just get as much practice in as you can. The more you dance, the less room you leave for talking…or an argument. Ya know, whichever... And hopefully, the nerves will ease up little by little, then he won’t have anything to be a shithead over.”

“Right. Because that really worked earlier.” You finally let the scoff you’ve been choking back slip out. “I’ll try again, anyway. Thank you, Josh.”

“Anytime, love. Anytime.” He waves you off with a smile as you close the door and head back inside.

“Hey!”

Just before you step inside, you hear Josh calling for you and you turn around to face him.

“If you need me to come back and beat his ass, just call!”

Your head falls back as a genuine laugh explodes from your lungs. The most you’ve laughed all day, really, and it feels lovely.

Shaking your head, it’s your turn to wave him off, trying to get inside before the cold starts to make your bones ache any more than it already has.

It’s quiet, as you’re reaching the later hours of the afternoon, daylight just barely lingering still.

You make your way down the hall, back to the dreaded, mirrored, room that you and Jake have to continue to share. Assuming he’s still here… or he hasn’t had you replaced and you just don’t know it yet.

When you reach the door, you can hear the familiar song playing from the other side. The doorknob is freezing cold beneath your hand, a drastic contrast to the heat of anger still somehow lingering in your body. Shoving it open slowly, careful not to disturb who you can only assume is Jake, you peak your head in first to see him practicing all on his own.

His movements are flawless. Each step he takes and every movement of his arms, so precise and strong. The white tights he’s wearing accentuate the muscles running throughout his legs, his black t-shirt hugging his shoulders just so. He holds himself with utmost confidence, his eyes never casting themselves to the floor, looking out into an imaginary audience, or at an imaginary partner, when his attention is meant to be focused on her.

Suddenly, you become very aware that you wish to be the one under that gentle, but attentive gaze of his - completely unlike the way he had looked at you earlier. While you may be his partner, he won’t ever look at you that way -gentle and attentive- until he’s on stage and even then, it likely won’t feel real. It will be nothing but acting. It stings, but you shove the sour feeling deep down inside you and step fully back into the room.

“Can you turn the music off for a second?” You ask him, trying to keep a cool and collected tone.

The sound of annoyance Jake lets out doesn’t miss your ears, despite the music still playing.

He walks over and pauses the music, turning to you with an expectant look - just waiting for you to have a damn good reason for essentially asking him to stop what he had been doing. As if the two of you don’t have a lot more work to do.

“I’m…sorry for earlier.” The words are a bit strained as they leave you. What’s to be expected, though? You don’t really want to apologize to him, but you know it’s the right thing to do.

“It’s alright.” Jake mutters, barely nodding his head in acknowledgement to your apology. “I’m sorry, too. Let’s just get back to it, yeah?”

You’re stunned for a moment by his returned apology, having not expected him to give you one at all. Although, you can’t bring yourself to open space for any hope that things are maybe going to get better from here. That’s something you won’t believe until you see it happening consistently. Besides, there’s still an obvious hint of something unpleasant in his tone.

“Yeah, okay…” you agree, sitting your things down. “If you want, we can just work on the lifts for a while… ya know, just for a change of pace.”

The air in the room seems thick with awkwardness, of which you’re not helping to aid at all, being that your tone is rapidly fueling it and Jake without a doubt takes notice of that.

Though, he continues to act completely immune to the awkwardness filling the space. Leaving you to suffer in it all on your own.

After only offering you but a short and flat, “Sure,” you and Jake move on to the lifts. Of which go smoothly… Until they don’t.

“Fucking-“ Jake grunts, arms wobbling slightly as you struggle to find your balance in his hands. “Shit!”

No sooner than the curse of annoyance and distress rumbles out of him, you’re plummeting almost to the ground, Jake’s arms catching you just in time to save you from completely hitting the floor.

“God damnit,” Jake sighs, running a hand over his face once you are standing on your own two feet again.

“This one is just… I can’t get my balance right.” You admit to him. At least you’re being truthful.

You aren’t really sure why you’re having so much trouble. You had done these exact same lifts just fine with Anthony for weeks before Jake even became Cavalier.

Perhaps it was the tension between you and Jake. The mutual, very strong dislike for one another. The lingering bit of hostility from your’s and Jake’s outburst, not even two whole hours ago…

Or his hands on my body… Wait-

You’re quick to interject on your own thoughts. You simply cannot stand the idea of letting your mind wander off with such thoughts about Jake. You refuse to feel that way.

“I see that.” Jake’s words are once again dripping with that same amount of aggravation from earlier - Of which had lead to you storming out on him.

He throws a judgmental glance your way, likely wondering how you even got sugar plum in the first place.

“Let’s try again.” Jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your body just so, adjusting his stance as he prepares to lift you up into the air. Hopefully with more elegance and grace than the first time. “I’m going to count to three, and then you jump.”

You think you’re taking advantage of the fact that he can’t see your face, rolling your eyes at his commanding tone. Much to your misfortune, you seem to have briefly forgotten that you’re both facing a wall, perfectly lined with large mirrors.

“Can you drop the fucking attitude, for god’s sake?” Jake snaps in question, his hands squeezing where they’re planted just above your hips.

If looks could kill, the glare you send him through the mirror would have surely taken him out cold. “How bold of you to point fingers on someone’s attitude. I’m not the only one with an apparent attitude problem here.”

“I’m sorry? In case you haven’t noticed, you are the reason i’m irritated.” Jake is slowly starting to seethe again. You can tell by the way his jaw has clenched itself painfully tight.

You ignore his comment, just staring at him blankly for a moment before finally speaking up.

“Just…count to three. And lift me.” You enunciate your words firmly, sucking in a deep breath in attempts to prepare yourself.

Jake on the other hand, releases a long breath, rolling his shoulders back in hopes to relax his body, at least a little bit. “Fine, then.”

“One…” He begins to count, checking his grip on your waist. “Two…Three.”

The second he speaks the last number, you’re jumping just enough for him to gain the leverage needed to lift you up into the air above his head.

“Good. Good!” Jake praises from below you, watching you attentively through the mirror.

“Tighten your core just a little more,” He tells you, lowering you slightly as you start to wobble a bit. “Yeah, there you go.” He lifts you back up where you’re supposed to be. “Now, hold it.”

You extend your arms out, focusing solely on holding your pose. There’s still the slightest shake to your position, but you hold it pretty successfully, despite that.

“There it is.” The prideful tone of Jake’s voice makes you smile internally, though you’d spend your last drops of energy on keeping said smile off of your face for him to physically see.

“Okay, I’m gonna bring you down now…”

Jake slowly lowers you back down and you hold your next position until you feel your pointe shoe touch the hard floor.

“Thank fuck,” you sigh, relieved that it was somewhat smooth.

Of course, Jake can’t let the slightest little fuck up slide.

‘Everything has to be perfect, at least in his mind.’

“It was still shaky as hell.” Jake complains, giving a dramatic gesture with his hand.

You suck in a quick, sharp breath. The anger resurfacing is nearly blinding, clouding your vision in a red hue that you can’t hardly believe is really there.

“How do you suppose I fix that, then? Hm?” Your voice drips with a venom that’s so unlike you, normally.

“You practice more.” Jake says, as if it’s the most obvious fucking thing. Like you should have already known that.

“Wow. What prophetic fucking advice, Jake. I appreciate it,” you scoff, crossing your arms like a pouting child.

“Since you obviously don’t think you need it, let’s run it, then. Start to finish.” Jake suggests, knowing good and well he just wants to try and prove a point.

With a cool shrug of your shoulders, you agree. “Fine.”

Jake saunters over to his phone, where it lays right by the speaker sitting on one of the chairs, and presses play.

The familiar and oh-so beautiful orchestration starts to fill the room - it brings butterflies of realization to life in your stomach. This is your dream role and while you may be doing it with the absolute last person you would have ever picked on your own, you know in the end, once the two of you work out the kinks of your mutual dislike, you will be a flawless pair.

You take your first few steps that lead you to Jake, where you finally come to meet in the middle and delicately, you lay your hand atop of his palm. His fingers close carefully around your hand, then, lifting your arm above the two of you to slowly spin you around.

There seems to by a shift in the energy within the room and between the two of you, and it’s most certainly a welcomed shift.

As you continue through the routine, the new found comfort of dancing with him slowly overtakes you. Unfortunately, the burning sensation his hands leave in their wake as they help guide you, is making it harder and harder to focus. And of course, that only makes frustration bubble within you.

*Why can’t I dance with him? Why does he have to affect me so much? I don’t like him. He doesn’t like me.

Questions upon questions bounce around in your mind, inevitably distracting you from the important task at hand. It’s dangerous waters to swim in, the closer you get to the crescendo of the song; running the risk of one of you getting hurt somehow by lack of focus.

Focus. Focus. Focus.

You internally chant the word to yourself, desperately trying your best to pull your mind back to one collective place.

“Come back to me.” Jake’s tone is firm but not angry, as he prepares to bring you into the first lift.

Here goes nothing.

Forcing your brain to remain solely honed in on the task at hand, Jake’s hands find your waist and in the blink of an eye, he’s hoisting you into the air, much smoother and more elegantly than the first time.

And by some complete miracle, the first few lifts go flawlessly. Jake even finds it in himself to give a few mumbles of praise and encouragement as you go.

That confidence and momentum doesn’t carry through nearly as long as you hoped it would, though.

As the music builds and builds up to the first of what you would consider the “big” lifts, your heart rate increases. Suddenly your hands are clammy and a little shaky, and your stomach has twisted itself into a sickening knot.

Jake’s so into it, that you can’t bare the idea of asking him to stop, simply because your nerves have taken over. So, you continue into the lift, against your better judgement.

You make it into the air without much trouble, but as Jake brings you down into the next move, your form breaks and causes him to nearly drop you.

“Goddamn it!”

“Oh, my god!”

Both of your exclamations and curses fly out at the same time, only startling each other even more.

“Jesus christ, I knew you weren’t ready for that!” Jake shouts, hands running over his face as the adrenaline and realization of how hurt you could have just gotten, pumps through his entire body. “Do you even realize how fucking hurt you could have gotten just now?!”

“I am ready!” You argue right back, completely ignoring the hint of concern he was displaying for you.

“No, you are fucking not!” Jake’s voice booms, like a bang of thunder that shakes houses, after lightning has struck something. “We wouldn’t be having so much goddamn trouble if you were!”

“I didn’t have all these problems with Anthony,” you point out, matching his unruly volume. You even dare to take a step closer to him.

“What’s the difference?!” He practically screams, taking a step equal to the one you’d just taken. “We’re doing the same routine, for the same show! What. Is. The difference?!”

“Because you’re, you!” Your arms fly up into the air, before smacking back down against your sides.

Jake tilts his head back almost challengingly. “I’m what?”

“You’re the favorite! The one Everyone wants to have the fucking pleasure of dancing with!” You emphasize your words dramatically as you yell nearly right in his face. “You never fuck up anything! Ever!”

“And does that make you jealous?” Jake questions, his tone becoming smug and arrogant.

“No, it doesn’t make me jealous! It makes me nervous!”

Though half of the sentence is a lie; it definitely makes you both jealous and nervous, as soon as the words leave your mouth, you want to snatch them out of the air and shove them back in.

“Really?” Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “Nervous, huh?”

“Yes! Nervous, you fucking asshole!” You yell. “You’re arrogant as all hell and it’s absolutely insufferable, in case anyone hasn’t told you! It’s a nightmare trying to work with someone who is constantly picking apart every little move you make!”

“First of all-“ Jake wraps his hand around your pointed finger and shoves it roughly out of his face. “-Get your finger out of my damn face. And stop fucking yelling at me.” His eyes burn through yours, knocking you down a notch, but you refuse to outwardly show it. “Second, you shouldn’t be talking. You get everything handed to you, like the perfect, pretty little thing you are. You hardly have to work for shit.”

You snatch your finger out of his grip and immediately fire back at him. “I don’t get anything fucking handed to me.”

“But you do!” Jake chides, hardly making a legitimate point.

“No, YOU DO, Jake!” And now you’re back to screaming, throat threatening to go raw by the strain you’re putting on it. “How do you think we got here in the first fucking place!”

“If I got everything handed to me, don’t you think I would have had this from the beginning?!” Jake nearly closes the little space between the two of you, with one more step. “Don’t you think I would have gotten it first, instead of Anthony?!”

A wicked smirk grows on your face. “Right, right. So you’re just their backup, huh?” You watch as Jake’s face grows red and his eyes flash with rage. “Not even good enough to be cast as Cavalier the first time, are you?”

“You should be concerned about the fact that we start dress rehearsals in two days and you can’t even get all the damn lifts right.” Jake jabs.

His close proximity is making it hard to think anymore, the features of his beautiful, anger-hardened face proving to be a major distraction from the comeback you should have been already able to conjure up.

“Well, they- their hopes can’t be but so high, now that they’ve had to settle for you.”

Jake’s jaw visibly tenses, causing the muscles to protrude around his cheekbones and down his neck, the crease between his brows setting in even deeper.

Before you can even bat an eye, or open your mouth to add a little more gasoline to the already raging fire, Jake’s hand is tightly wrapping itself around the back of your neck.

“Is this entertaining you?” You can see Jake’s free hand gesture about, through your peripheral vision. “Being a little bitch?”

You’re frozen, stuck in place - not only because of his grip on you, but because you can’t decide if you actually want to move away.

One might find that name absolutely enraging, but apparently you don’t, considering the way your cunt throbs as the word travels from his mouth, to your ears.

“Fuck you.” You spit through gritted teeth.

“Would that make you less bitchy? If you fucked me? Hm?” Jake taunts, clearly taking in the newfound enjoyment he’s getting out of this.

“Call me a bitch again.” You say threateningly, but it holds no real weight. You just want to keep up the fight a little longer, perhaps a bit too addicted to the way he’s making your blood boil.

“Or what?” Jake all but growls, leaning his face in, so that he’s right next to your ear. “Are you gonna storm out of here like earlier? Like the little fucking brat you are?”

Your skin is screaming to feel his lips. They’re mere inches from your skin, the heat of his breath casting a heat that almost resembles when you sit just a little too close to a campfire.

“I bet you’d perform a lot better if I fucked you.” Jake speaks the wondering thought out loud. “Trained you to be a good little dancer for me.”

“Jake…” you sigh, chest heaving rapidly.

“What?” Jake seethes. “No smart ass comeback? No attitude?” He slides his other arm around your back, but doesn’t pull you quite close enough for your body to touch his. “Come on. Say something else. I dare you.”

Your thoughts spin around themselves as you attempt to conjure up another snarky comment, while Jake’s eyes stare intensely into yours, occasionally flickering down to your lips and right back up.

Finally, it comes to you.

“I’m not taking insults from a boy who probably can’t even fuck me hard enough to keep me out of rehearsal tomorrow.”

The silence that falls between you and Jake is deafening. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, hear the blood running hot beneath your skin. If you listen close enough, you might even hear Jake’s heartbeat banging against his own ribcage, too.

Neither of you move for what feels like an eternity, only adding to the tension that’s already about to burst at the seams.

Jake’s mouth opens and closes quickly, but he still doesn’t speak - only adding to the torment of the moment. Anticipation fills you up so much, you feel like you may start throwing it up.

Slowly, Jake’s eyes narrow until they’re practically shut, and his hand tightens around the back of your neck tightens.

“Are you challenging me, sugar?” The name typically used for endearment, spits out of him like it’s anything but sweet. He’s so cleverly alluding to your role as sugar plum.

“I-If that’s how you wanna see it, go ahead.” You half choke out. Your words are becoming less and less intimidating and lethal as the moments go by. “Since you want to try and prove a point soo badly.”

“I don’t think you deserve anything else from me today.” Jake says, not even bothering to fight off the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

Shock fills you up the second the words float out from his mouth and you’re even more shocked at the way disappointment comes along to mix in with it. You may have been annoyed with him for petty shit before, but now you’re genuinely upset.

“W-what…?” The word is barely audible coming from your breathless lungs.

Jake lets go of you and steps away, taking little steps backwards in the direction of his things. The expression adorning his face is downright evil.

“I think you heard me loud and clear.” Jake shrugs, grabbing up his things. He doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes - likely just leaving you to go off to a different room and practice alone.

You watch him, completely dumbfounded as he makes his way to the door, not even giving you glance as he goes by.

The door opening feels so obnoxious, given the newfound silence hanging between the two of you. He’s about to step over the threshold, but turns around to face you one more time.

“See you tomorrow.” He glances over you for a moment, tongue visibly poking the inside of his cheek. “And you better not fuck up.”

<>

After a horrendous night filled with constant tossing and turning, the cool light of the gloomy morning wakes you up out of the sleep, that has only just found you a few hours ago.

Begrudgingly, you force yourself to get out of bed and take a shower, then dig out a pair of tights and one of your favorite leotards. And as much as you don’t want to acknowledge it, the brief question of whether or not Jake will like it, plants itself in your head. It’s black, with long sleeves, and the daintiest lace details at the top around the chest.

You force the thought away immediately. The mere mental thought of Jake making your body tense with anger, and… whatever the hell is left lingering from last night’s little… moment.

The drive to the studio is severely uneventful. Music being the only thing to keep you company throughout the short trip over there.

Seems like you’ve been living there these last few days. Which, might not be so bad if Jake wasn’t such a constant thorn in your side.

As the studio comes into view, a lump over nerves nearly makes you choke. Last night’s interesting turn, still at the forefront of your memory, despite your efforts in trying to ignore it.

You grab all your things and make your way to the door, walking as quickly as you possibly could to get out of the cold air. A swift glance around the parking lot as you go, is enough to see that Jake’s car is nowhere to be seen.

There’s no denying the relief that washes over you. Perhaps you’ll actually be free of Jake for a little longer than normal, to perfect some things by yourself, without the intense and judgmental stare of Jake’s eyes.

Just as you’ve hoped, as you walk down the hallway to your room, there’s nothing but silence on the other side of the door. But just to be safe, you slowly push it open and peak in, only to confirm that Jake is nowhere to be seen.

You take the opportunity to practice certain pieces of the pas alone, hoping to work through most of the imperfections that Jake has pointed out, time and time again.

What you don’t realize though, is how much time actually passes as you fall into a zone. Completely locked in on what you’re doing, practically floating around as though Jake is there to guide you, except you’re doing it all on your own.

Little did you know, Jake is standing at the door… admiring you just like you had done to him yesterday. For him, it’s different; his moment or slight admiration and ogling. He doesn’t have nearly as much trouble admitting to himself that he finds you ridiculously attractive and talented.

Will he say that directly to you? It isn’t likely, but to himself, he absolutely will. Although, the odds of him telling you his thoughts, are far more likely than you vocalizing your’s to him.

Jake stands, body halfway slipped between the cracked door, intently and quietly watching you. Until finally, you turn and your stop brings you to perfect face the door.

The sudden sight of Jake makes your entire body jolt, startled and unprepared to see him in such a random way.

“Jake!” You half screech, your hand coming to grasp at your now aching chest.

“My bad.” The softest chuckle dances with his words. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine…” you mumble.

Looking at him for the first time since last night is… definitely different, to say the very least.

The air in the room has shifted and it feels so heavy that it may crush you. Given Jake’s cocky strutting across the room, you guess that he doesn’t feel it the way that you do, or he’s doing a really good job at ignoring it. Like he always does. Yet another thing about him that you envy; his ability to be so unaffected.

“You- uhm… How long were you watching from the door?” You ask him timidly, chancing a quick glance at him as he sits down his things.

“Long enough to see that you’re perfectly capable of a flawless and confident routine.” Jake replies, bringing a soft, pink tint to your cheeks. “Which I suppose is great, except you can’t seem to do that with me.” His tone is the slightest bit playful, but you can’t ignore the way it claws at your skin.

“A bit early to be making digs, don’t you think, Jake?” You raise an eyebrow at him, awaiting the death glare he’s sure to throw towards you any second now.

But it doesn’t come. He just ignores your little muse all together, continuing to stretch and warm up.

Silence falls over you both, as you work on a few moves on the opposite side of the room in front of the mirrors.

Occasionally, you glance over your shoulder through the mirror at Jake, but you don’t let your eyes linger on him for too long, in favor of not getting caught and the refusal to let yourself get carried away.

After a few minutes, you catch a glimpse of Jake getting up and setting up his phone with the speakers, before making his way towards you and finally speaking up.

“Ready to run this thing?” He rubs his hands together in front of him.

“As I’ll ever be,” you mumble in response and follow him back over to the middle of the floor.

Jake steps back to his phone and presses play, bringing the beautiful instrumental to life throughout the whole room.

It eases you, much to your surprise. But not enough to ignore the fires that Jake’s hands seem to be lightning, gradually, all over your body in each place that he touches you.

You do your absolute best to try and remain calm and collected, focusing solely on the dance and nothing else.

Further and further you sink into the routine, and so does Jake. It’s evident in the electric energy that’s suddenly buzzing throughout

the room. The way Jake’s eyes stare into yours so intensely, it makes your knees want to give out beneath your weight. The passion of which he’s exuding…

The way he grips your body to lift you up into the air, unintentionally gripping you harder and harder with each passing lift, until you’re certain he’s going to crush you.

You’re not sure what exactly snaps in your brain, but when it snaps, there is no going back.

"Jesus fucking christ- Put me down!" You yell over the music and Jake immediately brings you back down on your own two feet, but not exactly gently.

"Fuck- what now?!” Jake hisses through his labored breathing. “Can you not go two minutes without bitching?!”

"You have a fucking death grip on me!” You grab at his bicep for emphasis. “Are you trying to bruise me!?”

“You should feel so lucky.” Jake spits back, sarcasm mixing with cockiness in his tone.

“Oh, shut the fuck up Jacob!” You screech in his face. “The last thing I want is you leaving any kind of marks on my body.”

“Trust me, princess, I'm not interested anyway." Jake fumes, face red and jaw set tight, nose glistening with the lightest layer of sweat.

“I’m not either!” It feels like a lie, the second it leaves your mouth. But the volume behind your words, masks the way you hardly believe it yourself. “You’re just an arrogant, self centered, asshole, who always has to get his own fucking way with everything!”

“And you're a fucking bitch who never knows when to shut her mouth." Jake practically growls, his face just inches from yours.

"You’re such a piece of shit." You retaliate lowly.

"Back atcha, princess.” Jake grits, the muscles in his cheeks and neck pulsing rapidly.

"Stop. Fucking. Calling me that.” You demand.

"No.” Jake shakes his head, pushing his tongue into his cheek. “No, I don’t think I will.” He adds. "All you ever do is bitch and complain about me doing something wrong and it's so irritating. I know what the hell i I'm doing. I'm a fucking professional. It is not my fault that you're so goddamn picky about every little thing!"

"Well, excuse me for wanting to do this perfectly!” You shout back at him, praying internally that this explosion between the two of you hasn’t drawn any attention outside of the room.

"How ironic.” Jake chuckles humorlessly. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Sugar plum, but you're not even close to it.”

"It would be perfect if you didn't grab me like a caveman!” You chide, feeling the sting of Jake’s words prickling under your skin.

"It would be perfect if you stopped squirming every time i lift you!” Jake argues, throwing his hands into the air.

"Maybe if I fucking trusted you, I wouldn't get nervous when you have me in the air!” You shoot back.

“You know that’s not really why you get shaky when I lift you, but whatever.” Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Maybe aybe if you weren't such a hateful little shit, you'd be able to at least pretend to trust me."

"You. Are insufferable.” You turn to walk away from him, leaving Jake glued to his spot as his brain processes what he’s about to say.

"And you clearly need to be put in your goddamn place." Jake says, stopping you in your tracks.

You turn back around to face him, taking a few little steps forward defiantly. "I fucking dare you to try.”

The challenge spits out of you, and not a bit of you thinks he’ll really see it, considering he had the opportunity last night and trashed it.

"You couldn't handle it.” Jake says simply. His words only raise your anger somehow.

"I hate you.” You seethe, closing in on him with a pointed finger.

"Not nearly as much as I fucking hate you.” He flashes you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen in your life, immediately dropping his face back to his previous, stone cold expression.

The tension hanging in the room is so thick, even a chainsaw would likely struggle to cut it. A deafening silence falls over the two of you, nothing but the sounds of both your heavy breaths to fill it.

Your teeth are so tightly gritted together, you worry they may shatter any second now as you await his next move. Because you certainly are not backing down first, from this eerily silent stand off.

Jake’s face is still sharp and set with anger, not even a glimmer of that chocolaty brown left in his eyes.

Just as you open your mouth to foolishly provoke him even more, he’s lunging for you, roughly gripping either side of your face as his lips sloppily crash into yours. You can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. He tastes intoxicating in the best and worst way. A drug that now that you’ve had just a taste of, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to put it down.

Haphazardly, Jake starts guiding you backwards towards the barre, not even breaking the kiss to make sure that’s where he is going. Like a man about to die of thirst, he drinks in the whimper that you release, as your back collides with the barre. His hands find your wrists, and he shoves them up above your head and pins them there.

“Tell me to stop.” He huffs out through rapid breaths, free hand staying planted on the wall by your arm.

"I thought you were putting me in my place.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Or are you all talk?"

Jake just growls, swiftly reaching down to cup your heat, making you gasp desperately. His foot kicks your legs farther apart, middle and ring fingers stroking over you so lightly, you could scream.

Except you can’t. You’ve been struck with utter speechlessness, thanks to the sudden advance and the merciless ache he’s creating between your legs.

“What? Nothing to say now?” Jake questions tauntingly. “I think this is the longest you've been quiet around me. It’s truly a nice change"

“M-maybe you're just not doing a good enough job," you stutter, pressing yourself into the palm of his hand.

"The way you’re stuttering and the wet spot that I can feel right here, says otherwise.” Jake’s fingers tap against you.

You let out an exhale that is dripping with attitude, but make no move to break away from Jake. And you won’t, really. You both know that at this point.

“Do you get tired?” Jake mumbles, leaning in to ghost his lips over your cheek. They trace around, until he settles on your ear. “Do you get tired of being so defiant? Being a fucking brat and causing me so many stresses? Does it get you off?”

“What if it does?” You answer in a whisper, trying to turn your head towards his, but he isn’t having it.

His hand comes up from between your legs and wraps around your throat, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact.

“Let’s get something clear,” Jake starts lowly, his voice rumbling like nearby thunder as he begins to warn you. “Drop the fucking games, or I’ll make sure to fuck you so hard, you’ll have to fucking crawl your way out of here tonight.”

“I will never give you such satisfaction.” You know you’re about to eat these words, but you can’t find it within your being to care.

Faster than what your brain is capable of processing at this point, Jake is turning you around to face the mirror, leaving you no choice but to grip the barre in front of you.

“Then take it.” Jake says, pressing himself against your ass and wrapping his other hand around your jaw. “Take everything I fucking give you, right here. And when I’m done-“ He uses the grip to turn your head towards the door. “-I can’t wait to watch you limp to that fucking door.”

Jake’s hand abandons your jaw, his fingers hooking themselves around the top of your leotard and pushing it off your shoulders. You help him work it off your body from the front, until it finally falls down around your ankles. As you move to step out of it, he stops you.

“Ah. Don’t.” Jake uses his own leg to halt the movement of your own. “Leave it there.”

You huff, but place your foot back where it was, leaving your leo pooling on the floor around your feet.

Jake’s hands work their way up for your hips, to your shoulders, before his dull nails scratch down your back just enough to make your muscles tense and cover you in goosebumps. He repeats the action one more time, watching your body shiver under his touch in amusement.

“Beg me.” Jake commands, dipping the tips of his fingers into the waistband of your tights.

“What?” You meet his eyes through the mirror, both of you taking notice of the pink tint your cheeks take on.

“I said, Beg. Me.” Jake repeats himself, but not without placing some firmness behind his tone.

“For what?” You spit the question like it’s drenched in poison, though, you know good and well what he’s asking you to beg for.

In a blink, Jake bends down just slightly and yanks your tights down until they’re sitting just around your knees.

“Aren’t you gonna take them off?” You ask him through a scoff.

“I only take off the clothes of good girls,” Jake smirks slyly from behind you. “And you’re most certainly not one of those. Are you?”

You don’t answer him, mostly because you’re hyper focused on the way the air feels cool against your cunt, the slip of your inner thighs from the arousal soaking them and the fact that Jake is the one that has caused it.

A swift smack to your ass pulls you back to him, though.

“Are you?” Jake asks again. You can see his hand drawn back through the mirror, prepared to deliver another blow.

“No,” you finally answer, not nearly loud enough.

Smack.

“Louder.” Jake demands.

“No, I-I’m not.” Your voice cracks as you raise your volume up, hoping it will suit him.

“That’s better.” Jake attaches his lips itno your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the muscles as his fingers unexpectedly slip through your folds.

“Ah, fuck!” You cry, squirming slightly at the pleasurable pain of his teeth biting just enough to leave a bruise, paired with the coolness of his fingers. You’re ever so slowly losing your own game of defiance.

“Aw, do you not like it rough, sugar plum?” Jake asks, feigning sympathy for you as he lets his fingers tease around your dripping heat.

“I- I told you I can take it,” you remind him, but it’s hardly as believable as earlier.

“Yeah?” Jake pulls his hand away from you and smacks it across your hand again, the wetness coating his fingers making it sting just a little more.

“Jake, come on,” you beg, dying for him to pay your throbbing clit some attention, even though it likely won’t be for long.

“Oh, so now she begs…” Jake scoffs, returning his fingers to your core.

Instead of going where he knows you want them the most, he slowly sinks a finger into you, curling it upwards upon hearing your whiny moan. The force at which his finger curls into, sends you lurching forward, damn near hitting your head against the glass of the mirror.

His free hand reaches up to grip at your jaw again, forcing your head up to look at him.

“How’s that feel? Hm?” He asks, voice low and gravely, like it has to travel over rocks before it reaches your ears.

Adding in a finger, the thrusts of his fingers become deeper and the sweet curl into that spot that has your knees buckling, grow harder and more intentional - hitting the same sweet spot over and over and over again.

“Goddamn, Jake…” you moan breathily, eyes fluttering closed.

“Open your fucking eyes and look at me.” Jake commands, emphasizing his words with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers.

How he’s managing to reach these untouched places inside of you, you’ll likely never know, but you don’t really care. You force your eyes open and meet his reflection. Tendrils of his hair have fallen out of his bun, framing his face so perfectly. His eyes are dark and dancing with lust and more emotions that are too entangled to place.

“You feel like you’re about to cum…” Jake observes, pulling his soaked fingers out and wrapping his arm around your waist to reach your aching and horribly neglected bundle of nerves.

The circles he’s drawing over you are quick and tight, enough to throw you into an orgasm and completely wipe your mind blank in the process. It’s almost too much pleasure.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Jake snaps, cracking his hand against your cunt, before returning to the dizzying circles.

You open your mouth to smart off, but the second your lips part, the most feral moan you’ve ever heard come from your own lungs, bursts right out of you.

“You’re so much more pleasant to be around when you’re moaning instead of bitching.” Jake comments, leaning in to bite at your shoulder again.

You don’t have much wriggle room this time, as his grip around your neck keeps your firmly in place as he bites all along your neck and shoulder.

“Jake!” You whimper, so close to sounding more like a sob.

You want to jerk away from his far too skilled fingers, but you don’t want to run from the earth-shattering orgasm that he’s steadily dragging you towards.

“Do not cum yet.” Jake says against your skin, but his fingers don’t stop.

“Jake, i-“

“Nope. Don’t fucking cum yet.” Jake says again in a much harsher tone.

He’s pushing you. Seeing just how much you can take, how long you can keep yourself dangling you over that steep edge before you’re crying and pleading with him to stop, because you just can’t hold it anymore.

And you’re not far from that, as hot tears sting the corners of your eyes and the knot in your belly is aching and screaming for release.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ You choke out, gripping the barre so hard that your knuckles are paper white. Even your knees have started to slightly bend, forcing Jake to bend down with you in order to not lose the contact. “I can’t, Jake! Please, just let me!”

“Fuck no.” Jake snaps, bringing his fingers to an agonizing stop before removing them from you completely. “What makes you think you’ve earned it?”

Jake’s hands abandon you and just barely, you catch sight of him pushing his own tights and underwear down to his thighs, fully revealing himself to you, hard and practically soaked with pre cum.

As much as you want to hate every bit of this, you can’t wait have him buried inside of you. The way you imagine it will feel to have him stretching you out, hitting all the perfect places inside of you, is replacing all coherent thoughts in your brain.

“Fuck,” Jake groans, stroking himself a few times. “Goddamn how did you fucking get me like this?”

Reaching forward with his opposite hand to grip your hip tightly, he lines himself up and pushes in to the hilt, his dark eyes intently watching your face contort in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like this?” Jake asks, his words slightly rushed from his own pleasure as he moves in and out of you a few times. “Can’t believe this is all I needed to do to get you to shut your pretty fucking mouth.”

All you can do is moan. You’re far too gone to come up with a good and bratty response to that. Besides, you coming to not mind the way he sounds degrading you. It’s addicting, just like his fingers and cock.

Your chest heaves with anticipation as he continues his slow thrusts. One of his hands ventures up your spine from your hip, stopping to firmly grip your shoulder for more leverage.

“You think your dancing has imperfections now?” Jake growls into your ear, his black t-shirt grazing your bare back. “Just wait until you come in and try to dance tomorrow.”

Jake pulls nearly all the way out of you before slamming himself right back in without warning, setting the most relentless pace possible.

A choked moan rips its way out of you, the pleasure of Jake’s cock pounding into you, shooting through your whole body in debilitating waves.

“Come on, sugar plum,” Jake taunts through labored breaths. “Mouth off some more. M’sure you have plenty to say now, don’t you?”

“F-Fuck you…” You force the two strangled words out through your throat, through an array of moans a high pitched whines.

Using his bruising hold on your hip and shoulder, he brings you back to meet his thrust, driving himself even deeper with each stroke.

You can feel the pleasure shooting down through your legs, all the way down to the tips of your toes - sore and likely blistered from your pointe shoes. The sensations popping up all over your body, make you feel like you’re choking on air - little hiccups of whines and ragged, loud breaths being all that makes it out of you.

Jake’s sounds of pleasure aren’t lost on you, though. The deep grunts and growls, an occasional higher whimper falling in here and there. But god, his voice… the way he talks to you. That, you’re sure, will be what drives you into the life changing high that’s finally starting to rebuild itself within you.

“Oh, my god, Jake…” You croak, wishing you could hold onto him. Sink your nails into his shoulders and run them down his back, or arms. Anything.

“Are you gonna cry for me when you cum? Huh?” Jake asks tauntingly, raising his voice slightly to ensure you hear him over your constant moans. His hand travels from your shoulder down to your cunt, and he begins swirling his fingers over your clit.

You writhe in his hold, forcing him to wrap his other arm around your waist, the palm of his hand splaying over your chest to hold you against him.

“Nuh uh, this is what you fucking wanted, so take it.” Jake growls lowly into your ear, kissing the side of your neck just below it.

It feels too good. Way too good. You’re just waiting for your body to short circuit, as Jake continues to mercilessly pound into you, expertly toying with your clit as he does so.

“Look at yourself,” Jake scoffs, sliding his hand up from your chest to your jaw. “So fucked out and pathetic. You gonna leave looking like this?” His eyes scan over the little bruises littering your shoulders and neck. “Gonna show everyone that their pretty, sweet, sugar plum is just a little whore?”

Words have completely fled from you, as have the loud moans you were emitting before. You’ve dwindled down to nothing but a constantly open mouth, with hoarse and uneven breaths panting out, makeup running and strands of hair falling out of your bun, as your orgasm slowly pulls you under.

“Ja- Jake!” You sob, a deep ache settling low in your stomach. “I- I’m s- I-…”

“Give it up, pretty. Go on…” Jake encourages, his thrusts just barely faltering as you begin fluttering around him. “F- Fucking. Give it to me.”

The orgasm that takes hold of you, nearly ravages you. It’s head-spinning, body numbing. So all consuming that your vision and hearing go out entirely, for what feels like an eternity. Your lungs burn as your body locks in place, until you’re finally able to suck in a gasping breath and release the most pornographic cry into the room. It echos and bounces around, and Jake is quickly committing it to memory.

Faintly, as Jake delivers a few more paralyzing thrusts, you can hear him cursing under his breath. Groaning as he pulls out quickly, removing his hand from around you to work himself through his own high and spilling his release over your lower back.

His fingers have yet to come to a stop over you, even through his orgasm. You frantically grab for his wrist, whining desperately as overstimulation takes you for a dizzying spin.

Barely having regained his composure, Jake turns you around, pressing his body flush against yours as he sinks his fingers into you and uses his thumb to continue working your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Jake, please! It’s too much, please!” You beg him, more tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

“You’re a tough girl, right?” Jake mocks, kissing your cheek with a wicked smirk on his lips. “You can take one more.”

“Jacob, please!” You beg him again, unsure of how you’re even holding yourself up anymore.

“Hush.” Jake commands, watching you with dark eyes as you start fall back into another high.

Your head falls back against the glass with a soft thud, eyes screwed tightly shut and mouth hanging agape just like before.

“That’s it, sugar plum,” Jake rasps. “You’ll give me one more because I said so. Good girl.”

Those last two little words do you in. It isn’t quite as intense as the first, but it still does you in, nonetheless. Your legs tremble beneath you, the muscles in your stomach clenching as you come undone for him again.

As you come down, Jake carefully withdraws his hand from you - soaked and glistening with your release.

You watch his movements with hooded eyes, as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean of you.

“Like sugar…” He hums with a shit eating grin. “How fitting.”

Bending down, Jake guides your tights back up, followed by your leo - pulling it up just to your chest.

He then takes a step back from you, pulling his own tights back up over his hips, eyes never leaving your face as you watch him in slight, post-orgasm confusion.

“It’s late,” he speaks up calmly, taking slow steps backwards. “I’ll see you back here tomorrow. Same time.”

You watch him in walk away disbelief, as you attempt to follow after him on weak and shaky legs. By the time you reach him, he’s already flinging his back over his shoulder.

He turns towards you, tossing you a little jar without any warning.

Your hands shoot out to catch it just in time to save it from shattering all over the floor and upon a little examination, you read, ‘Epsom Salt’ written across a little sticky note, taped to the side.

“Might wanna soak in a nice little bath tonight,” he suggests as he heads towards the door.

You watch him pull it open and step out, still completely speechless and rightfully exhausted, your mind spinning in a whirlwind of thoughts about what the hell just happened.

“I need those to be working tomorrow.” Jake adds smugly, quickly pointing at your legs. “Oh, and cover those marks. Can’t go in to dress rehearsal tomorrow night bruised up.”

“W-What…?! I thought dress rehearsal starts the day after tomorrow?” Your sleepy eyes grow impossibly wide.

“Nope.” Jake shakes his head once. “Best be ready, huh, sugar plum?”

With that, he leaves you to be alone with l shock and insanely sore legs, wondering how the fuck you’re going to manage a full day with him and dress rehearsals, now that he’s fucked your body to the point of no return.

@ascendingtostardust @joshsindigostreak @streamsofstardust @builtbybrokenbells @shutupdevvie @gretasmokerising @stardustvanfleet @stardustcatcher @wildbluesorbit @jaketlover @of-infinite-wonders

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@i-choose-the-road @stillstreetjoshua @doodle417 @positivegvfthings @greta-van-fics @greta-van-chaos @gretavanbitches

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Nineteen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut | NSFW | Spice Level : A LOT (if you prefer to not read warnings this is your chance to scroll away, otherwise read the warnings besties xoxo)

Unprotected Sex (consensual! wrap it up at home, folks!) Oral (f&m receiving) Soft Dom/Sub vibes- they switch off, Mirrors are involved, Pet names used, Hand kink briefly, Praise Kink (YEAHHH), FOUL language, Shower scene (some smut involved in there too), and obviously- fluff, sweet, precious, wholesome things that'll wake up the butterflies.

Word Count: 5k 😈

Summary: After a day together in Salem, they have the apartment to themselves for a bit.. so why not take advantage?

Author's Note: I think you'll agree- we ALL deserved this chapter. Strap in, it's a spicy one. Get your sweat towel and have a water ready! (That's so dramatic) But for real- this chapter is sexy as hell and maybe.. there's something important in it, but that's neither here nor there 👀 Happy Thursday! 💕

To Be Alone - Hozier "Honey, when you kill the lights, and kiss my eyes, I feel like a person for a moment of my life."

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“You’re full of surprises today; why don’t you decide, babe?”

Babe– the sound of it playing on a loop in my head. 

“If you keep calling me that, I’ll give you endless attention,” I mumble against her lips. 

She presses a soft kiss into me before letting out, “Mmm, babe.” 

I hum back, “Mhmm.” 

“What about baby?” she asks sweetly. Lifting her onto the counter and standing between her legs, I let my hands sit on either side of her. 

I mumble back, “That also works.” Holding eye contact but looking down at her lips a few times. Leaning back in to leave a few pecks on her before going back to my part-time job of staring at her. 

“I already know that Captain gets you going,” she giggles. I can feel the blood rush into my face. I don’t know why it works, but it does. 

“What are you trying to do here?” I cock an eyebrow up at her as I ask. 

She pouts her lip, “Oh, are you not enjoying it, daddy?”

“God,” I groan, my head falling back for a second. “You’re asking for it now.”

“Mmm, yes, Jake, I am,” she almost sounds like she’s moaning. If I weren’t trying to keep it together, I’m pretty sure my eyes would have rolled into the back of my head at that. 

Grabbing the edges of my shirt, she pulled me in, and her lips felt desperate. Her teeth lightly tugged at my bottom lip, and I sighed at the feeling. She lets her arms drape over my shoulders, relishing in the feeling of her lips on mine. The way she goes out of her way to kiss my top lip before smiling into me. 

“Hey, you,” I whisper, letting my eyes wander to hers. 

Her sweet smile as we make eye contact, “Hi, handsome.” 

Her hands found their place, holding my jaw, pressing kiss after kiss into me. I pull her hips into me, letting her legs wrap around my waist as I lift her off the counter. 

Struggling to walk straight, I push my bedroom door open with my foot, kicking it shut behind me. Her legs start to slide down me, so I help her stand back up. She spins us around, backing me up to the edge of the bed. She lightly pushed my chest once my legs hit my bed frame, I quickly sat down for her. She grabs my shoulders and straddles my lap; I look up at her while she hovers above me.  Letting her take control is the most lethal thing for me.

She finally brings her face back down to mine; something about how she’s kissing me makes my heart flutter.

 Her hands slid under my shirt, pushing it up. I pull it off quickly, watching her eyes drop to my chest before her hands slowly creep up my stomach until her arms are around my neck. The lower she sits on me, the further up her skirt goes. I tug on the bottom so she sits up, unzipping the side to easily slide it off.

She sits back on my lap with just her tights covering her legs; I can see the dainty black thong she has on underneath, and something about being able to see it through the tights is making me sweat. 

The feeling of her lips against my throat as her hands unbuttoned my pants. The sound of my zipper felt loud as hell in the moment. 

“Stand up for me,” I finally tell her. 

I slide off my pants, tossing them towards my closet. Standing up with her in front of me, I grab the hem of her sweater, pull it over her head, and set it behind me on the bed. I sit on the end of my bed, pulling her towards me but spinning her to face the mirror. My hands hold her hips; I bring her down onto my lap. Pressing kisses into her shoulder. I slide my hands around her, hugging her, feeling her skin against mine. She runs her hands up my arms a little and tilts her head into mine. 

I keep one arm wrapped around her waist and move the other to slide down her thigh. Dancing my fingers along the inside of her leg, pulling them apart. Hooking her knee over mine, spreading her open. I look up into the mirror, meeting her stare. 

The hand holding her waist slid up, toying with the edge of her bra. Tugging it down slightly, watching the way her breast drops subtly. The small glimmer of her piercing makes my cock twitch underneath her. Gently, my fingers roll her already peaked nipple between them. Her head dropped back onto my shoulder at the feeling. 

I undo the clasp of her bra, watching the straps immediately slide down her arms a little. She pulls it off, letting it fall to the floor. Looking back into the mirror, all that’s left are the tights and her thong. We quietly hold eye contact through the mirror as I slide one of my hands up her thigh. 

“Watch how pretty you look when I touch you,” I whisper to her as I drag my fingers up the inside of her thigh, letting them slide in between her legs. She’s already trying to shift at the small amount of contact, so I add pressure as I pull my hand up the center of her. I linger over that sweet, sensitive spot that makes her squirm.

“Mmm, babe,” sneaks out of her. “Please.”

Teasing her a little by just adding a bit of pressure through her tights, slowly working her clit. I watch her in the mirror, her nipples peaked, her hands unsure of what to do right now. My free hand finds one of hers, holding it as my arm lays across her waist. 

She grabs my hand and moves it to her stomach, lifting the fabric of her thong slightly and guiding me to where she wants me. Feeling how wet she already is, sweet girl. 

“Jacob,” she whines. “I need you.”

The sweetest sound I could hear. 

“This isn’t enough?” I tease. I watched her reaction in the mirror but felt her hand tighten around mine. 

Pouting, she looks at me, “Baby.”

I sunk my middle finger into her, getting a delicious little moan out of her. I was curling it up, finding the right spot, and listening to how wet she got from it. Her breathing getting a bit louder. The way she’s shifting against me, it’s hard to deny the state I’m in. The hottest girl I’ve ever been with, writhing on my lap because of what my hand is doing– yes, I’m hard. 

I slow my hand down just to see what happens; her mouth drops open for a second as she looks at me. 

“I’ll let you come,” I mumble into her ear. “Just not yet.” 

My middle and ring finger slid into her, pulling a gasp out of her. I start pumping them into her quickly, curling them up and making her moan louder. Feeling her unravel in my lap, she’s so hot, Jesus Christ. 

I can feel her starting to flutter around me, and I lean into her ear again. “Almost, sweet girl.” 

She just whines in response. 

Letting go of her hand, I slide it down, rubbing her clit quickly. Her mouth is hung open, and her eyes are shut; I can feel how close she is.

“Open your eyes, hun,” I whisper. “Come for me.” 

Her eyes lock with mine when she gasps; I can feel her tighten around my fingers. Her string of ‘oh fuck’ and ‘yes baby’s ringing in the air. 

She slumps back against me once she’s come down, her body warm against me. I held her close for a minute, and she pressed her face under my chin. Leaving little kisses along my jaw. 

She whispers, “Wanna see how pretty I look with your cock in my mouth?” 

“Holy shit, Char,” comes out faster than I can think. She’s moving off my lap before I can say anything else, sitting on her knees in front of me. Her hands run up my thighs as she looks up at me. I could come just from the look in her eyes.

She hooks her fingers into the waistband of my boxers, pulling them down far enough for my cock to be freed. Quickly wrapping her lips around me, feeling her tongue swirl around, and I can’t stop the moans from coming out. 

I feel her hand slide up my chest for a second; she leaves it on my shoulder when she pulls back from me. 

Tapping my lip lightly, she looks up at me with those green eyes and whispers, “Open, baby.” My mouth falls open at her request; she slides two of her fingers into my mouth, and without hesitation, my lips close around them. Letting my tongue dance around them for a moment while she watched me, my breathing getting heavier. I didn’t realize that I- oh. 

“So good for me,” she whispers, pulling her hand back. My mouth hangs slightly open as she drags her finger down my bottom lip, her stare straight into my soul as she does it. I can feel the blood trying to decide if it wants to show up in my face or go straight to my cock, from her praise. Please keep telling me how good I am. Wrapping that hand around me, stroking a few times before letting her mouth sink back down onto me. 

I look into the mirror, watching the way her head and hand are moving. The fact that her tights are sheer is killing me because I can see her entire ass in the mirror. Carefully gathered all of her hair, brushed it away from her face, and wrapped it around my fist. The visual only makes it worse. 

She slowly takes more into her mouth; the feeling of her lips around me has me falling apart already. She lets herself sit like that for a second, lingering where I can feel her slight exhale against my stomach before her tongue starts to swirl around me a bit. Oh, fuck me. 

I whisper, “I don’t wanna come like this, hun.”

She pulls back, still gently stroking me as she looks up at me. 

“I have an idea,” she says. Standing in front of me, she slides her tights and thong down her legs and drops them on the floor next to her. “Scoot back a little, babe.”

I join her, pulling my boxers the rest of the way off. Moving myself back a little for her. 

She starts to straddle my lap again, still facing the mirror. Is she about to.. 

“Do you want me to..” I ask, pointing to my nightstand. 

“No, it’s okay,” she whispers back, lining me up with her as she sinks down onto me. My head falls back at the feeling. I keep myself propped up with one arm, but I move one hand onto her hip, holding on. She slowly lifts herself up and, just as slowly, lowers herself back down. We both sound like a mess at the moment. Her speed picks up as she bounces on me; my grip on her tightens. 

“God, baby,” she moans.

Without thinking, I groan, “Feels so good.” 

Her hands moving to my legs, she leans forward a little, and starts rolling her hips against me. The sound of her moans changed when she switched. Her mouth fell open as she kept rocking her hips slowly; I must be hitting the right spot. 

 “Use me, Char,” I mumbled, watching her writhe in pleasure. Watching the way her ass moves against me, softly grabbing at it. Her sweet face, her eyebrows pulled together as she moaned at the sensation.  

Her legs start to shake after a few minutes. I wrap my arms around her, standing up, bringing her with me. I moved us to the side of my bed before whispering in her ear, “Bend over for me?”

She immediately leans down, arching her back and wiggling her ass against me. Looking over, she can definitely still see the mirror.

I don’t know what came over me when I told her, “Eyes on me, honey.” 

She turns her head to the mirror, watching as I push back into her. Her mouth instantly opens at the feeling. My hands held her as I started to rock my hips into her hard and fast. I can feel her stare, and the feeling from it causes a smirk to lace my lips as I glance back over at her. Her foul moans rang throughout the room. 

“Do you like to watch while I fuck you?” I ask her. I don’t know where this is coming from.

She falls apart at the question, squeaking a small ‘yes.’

“Jake, you’re so– good, oh my god,” she whimpers out as I’m relentlessly thrusting into her. Reaching my hand down, rolling her clit between my fingers, watching her grip the comforter. Switching to tight, fast circles over it, she’s practically dripping for me and almost screaming my name at the feeling. 

I can’t come yet. I pull out of her, letting my fingers take over. She backs herself up, giving me better access to her. Leaning down and pressing a few messy kisses to each cheek before I dove in. Licking a long wide stripe up from her clit, shit, she’s so wet. My fingers are still pumping into her slowly, my tongue laps at her, and I want nothing more than to keep hearing my name fall out of her pretty mouth. 

I feel her tap my arm a few times, so I pull back, and she just falls over. Wrapping my arms around her legs, pulling her to the edge of the bed as I kneel. I keep my arms around her thighs, holding her up and placing a kiss against them before diving back in. 

I look up at her, seeing her eyes fixed on us in the mirror. Her hands knit themselves into my hair as my tongue practically spelled her name against her. It’s not long before her hips are trying to roll against my tongue, and who am I to stop her? My breathing shallow as she rides my face, waiting for her jaw to drop. Her grip on my hair tightens as it finally happens, lapping at her clit like my life depends on it and feeling her legs go limp in my arms as I’m setting her down. 

She crawls up to the pillows, flopping down with a few quiet giggles. Reaching out to me to join her. I take her in as I do, looking at ALL of her. This is the first time we’ve both been actually undressed. Every other time has been so heated that we don’t even care, so we’ve never taken the time to get this far. 

“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper to her, pulling her face to mine for a kiss. The flush of her cheeks mixed with the sparkle in her eyes, making my heart pound. 

She pulls back, glancing down before bringing her eyes back to mine, “You’re not so bad yourself.” Making us laugh into each other; I press my lips into hers as she giggles against me. I could do this forever.

I nudge her legs apart, moving in between them but never breaking the kiss. Making myself comfortable laying against her, keeping myself propped up on my elbows so I don’t crush her. We lay there pressing kiss after kiss into each other, her hands holding the sides of my throat, fingertips pressing into me harder with each kiss. 

When she starts shifting her hips against me, I push myself up, missing the feeling of her lips on mine instantly. 

“Look at me, honey,” I tell her, hovering over her. The moment her eyes meet mine, it feels like time has slowed. Lining myself up with her, but keeping eye contact this time. We’ve never done this. I start to push myself into her as my heart pounds, and her mouth opens slightly at the feeling; this feels different. Letting myself drop back down onto my elbows, my hands cradling her head. I start to move my hips into her, slow, crawling even. Our eyes stay locked on each other; why am I nervous?  Her hands grabbed the sides of my face, looking at me intently before pulling me into her. The moment I bottom out in her, a groan escapes me. 

Our mouths kept the same pace, slowly working against each other, letting out little moans into the kiss. The amount of contact is overwhelming, but I almost wish we were closer. Her sweet moans into my mouth, making my head spin. My hips stay at a slower pace; the feeling is indescribable but only lasts for a minute until she breaks the silence. 

“Mmm, baby,” she whispers into me. “Please, fuck me harder.”

I swear my cock got harder when she said it, if that was even possible at this point. 

I push myself up, pulling one of her legs up against my chest. Leaving a few small kisses against her ankle before tightening my grip around her thigh, driving myself into her. She loudly moans at the feeling, which only fuels me more. I wrap my arm underneath her, moving us further up the bed; I look down at her. I grab her hand, moving it up to grab the headboard.

“Hold on for me, hun,” I tell her. Leaning forward, I keep her leg against me, pushing myself into her, deep. Taking a breath before I start pounding into her. I watch as she falls apart; the sounds coming from her pretty mouth are foul. I try moving a bit faster, and her breathing picks up. 

“You're so good, baby,” she praises me. “Please, don’t stop.” 

I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to. Slamming my hips into her, listening to the sounds coming from her, the visual of her tits bouncing as I do. Fuck.

“Louder for me, honey,” I coo into her ear. “Let the neighbors know how good it is.” 

Earning a loud moan when I push myself all the way into her quickly. I moved my hand to play with her clit, rubbing fast little circles around it; she was instantly more wet. 

“Oh my god,” she practically yells. Her voice is even louder when she lets out, “Jacob– yes, OH, oh my god, don’t stop.” 

I lean down, hovering over her ear, murmuring, “That’s my girl.” Seeing the goosebumps flood her skin at the comment.

“Yeah, you like that?” I ask quietly, slowing my hips for a minute and sliding my hand into hers. 

She just nods quickly, “Yes, say it again.”

“Oohhh,” I coo into her ear. “My girl needs me to talk her through it, huh?” 

Her free hand tangles itself into my hair as she moans at my voice. Fuck me, that’s hot. My hips rock into her slowly, and I hold her gaze; it feels intimate. 

“Tell me what you want,” I mumble to her. She moans in response, her eyebrows pulling together slightly, and her grip on my hand tightens. 

She finally lets out a small “you.” 

“You have me,” I tell her. She looks like she’s holding something back, “Use your words, honey.” 

“Want you to come with me,” she moans. 

The thought alone got me closer; I looked down at her. She’s so beautiful. I start thrusting into her a little faster, listening to her slowly unravel as I do. Her hands grab my shoulders and pull me back down to her; her moans are getting louder as I snap my hips a little harder. 

“I’m close,” falls out of my mouth. “Where should I..?”

Her eyes lit up as she stared at me. I can see her sitting on the edge of her orgasm with the way her mouth is just slightly open; she has to be right there.

“Come in me, baby,” she whispers, her eyes fixed on mine. “I wanna feel you.” Oh my god. 

I groan at her comments, feeling my cock start to twitch and my hips struggling to keep pace. I lean in, kissing her as my orgasm starts to hit. She lets out a delicious moan as I feel her tighten around me, and she whimpers into me, “Oh- Jacob.” 

Kissing her as we both finished felt surreal, feeling her hands hold onto me, pulling me closer to her like we weren’t already an inch away from each other. The mix of our moans in a sweet symphony. I had never finished in someone like that, and now I just want to only sleep with her if this is what my life could be. 

  I lean down, kissing her sweetly a few times. Peppering her face with little pecks as we lay there in a light layer of sweat. The little glimmer in her eyes as we’re still pressed together, her soft little laugh while she’s moving a piece of hair that’s sticking to my face. Oh, honey. 

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After a few minutes of her laughing at me trying to help her, we managed to make it to the bathroom. Thankfully, we still have a little bit before we have to worry about Josh coming home. I turned on the shower before grabbing the hair tie on the counter. I start to pull my hair up, staring at myself in the mirror as I do, becoming incredibly aware of how we’re both just.. naked. Why am I .. comfortable with this?  I glance over at her as I’m shifting the bun around on the top of my head to loosen it a little. The look in her eyes is hard to read, but she’s just watching me quietly. Not that I shouldn’t be, I mean.. We’ve slept together enough. This just feels a lot more vulnerable, and it just .. feels normal. 

I let her step into the shower first, her hand in mine for support. She practically pulls me in behind her, tucking herself into me. We just stand there for a minute, enjoying the warmth of the water. 

She tiptoes herself in a circle under the water, giggling as she does. I grab the body wash, pouring a fair amount into my hand, watching her spin around carefully a few times. 

“Here, let me help you,” I laugh, rubbing my hands quickly up and down her arms. Sliding the soap across her collarbones and letting both hands trail down to her tits really taking my time. I graze my thumbs over her piercings, smirking at her when I do. 

“Jacob cut it out,” she laughs, grabbing my hands and pulling them away. She turns around, and I massage her shoulders for a second. She lets out a little sigh at the feeling, letting my hands slowly work their way down her back. As soon as I hit her lower back, I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. Giggling as I glide my hands over her ass, knowing she’s probably going to yell at me again. 

“You need to focus, babe,” she scolds me; a laugh was in there, so she doesn’t entirely hate it. 

“You’re right,” I tell her, but not without slapping her ass. 

She whips around with her jaw dropped, “You little shit.” She grabs my arms, making us switch spots so I can be under the water for a minute. Taking her turn by pouring the body wash directly onto my chest, and it’s cold as hell. Frantically rubbing it all over me, I just laugh while she does. She takes her time scrubbing my arms, thoroughly coating them in soap and dragging them down to my hands. God, she’s so fucking cute. 

She grabs my shoulders, forcing me to turn around. Her hands are still moving quickly as she scrubs little circles down my back. I hear her little giggle before she fully grabs my ass, squeezing it a few times. I turn just enough for water to run over my shoulder, washing away the soap as she’s having her fun. 

“Hey now,” I mumble, reaching back and grabbing her hands, pulling them around me.  

Her forehead leans against me, her hands running up and down my chest. She slides her hands dangerously low. Lord, help me. 

“Hun,” I let out, probably sounding a bit concerned. Her hand was eerily close to my cock, and I was fighting every demon not to get hard. 

She kisses the base of my neck, “What?” her taunting little tone laces it. The sigh that falls out of my body when she wraps her hand around me, gently stroking me as I get harder. 

“What are you–” I start, but losing my breath when she picks up her pace. “Char–” 

She lets go, grabbing my hips to turn me back to her, but her hand wraps back around me quickly. Stepping closer, she leans up to kiss me, her hand moving down the length of my cock at a painfully slow pace. 

“I just think you deserve a little more,” She says against my lips. Her thumb rubbed over the tip of my cock, making me moan into her. “Feel good, baby?” She moves back a little, pulling my hips with her. 

‘Mhm’ slips out of me; she can’t be real. Her lips found their place back on mine; my mind wandered to the night I got off to the thought of her. Now she’s here, in the shower with me, and she started this. The feeling of her hand on me, the taste of her on my lips, her fucking voice. Little whimpers are escaping me left and right; I can feel her smiling into me over it. Despite the fact we just had sex, great sex, mind you, I’m already close. Something about her is just so different. 

She leans into my ear, whispering, “Come for me, Captain.” 

I feel my orgasm start to release, her lips pressing into mine again as I do. This girl is my dream, holy shit. She slowly works me through it, giggling once she looks down. I scoot out of the way so she can clean herself off, kissing the side of her head while she does. 

I get out first, holding out a towel for her as she shuts the water off. Wrapping herself up, I quickly dry myself off. She scoots herself closer to me, snuggling herself against my chest. I throw my arms around her, my towel almost covering the two of us together. 

“It’s cold out here,” she giggles into me. Feeling her body shiver against me. I swear everything she does makes my heart feel weird. 

“I’ll keep you warm, don’t worry,” I mumble to her, her face tucked into my neck as I rub my hands over her arms and back to warm her up again. 

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After some mild convincing, we made it back into my room. I watch as she slides her panties up her legs, leaving minimal room for the imagination with the way they frame her ass perfectly. I just pull on some boxers because, at this point, I feel like she would laugh at me if I tried to be any more covered than that.  She comes back over, crawling into bed with me. 

“You’re just gonna.. sleep like this?” I ask, looking at her bare chest as she comes closer. 

Her arm slides up my chest as she makes herself comfortable against me, “Mhm. Is that okay?” 

“Hun, I will never pass up the opportunity— I just wasn’t expecting it.” 

She draws little shapes on my chest when she timidly lets out, “Just wanna feel extra close, I don’t know.” 

“Well, in that case,” I turned towards her,  grabbing one of her legs and pulling her as close to me as possible. Her leg drapes over my hip, and I slide one of mine between hers. Her head laying against my bicep, both of her dainty little hands holding my free one. I can practically feel her heart beating with how intertwined we are. 

She leans forward, kissing me a few times before settling back into her spot. Pressing lazy kisses against my arm every so often, she glances up at me.

“This is nice,” she whispers. “Thank you for everything today, baby.”

Her little smile makes me nervous, pulling her hands up and littering her knuckles with little kisses as my heart feels like it’s falling out of my body. 

“Of course,” I whisper back. 

She moves closer, somehow, and tucking her face back into my neck with her chest pressed against mine. My arm gently wraps around her shoulders, keeping her close. I can feel her breathing against my skin and how she’s smiling into me. I can feel her eyelashes brush against me when she blinks. The scent of my body wash on her ignited a little fire in my stomach. She snaked her arm around me, holding onto my shoulder, mindlessly leaving little comforting scratches as we lay there when I felt her lips press into the side of my throat. 

The chills sent through my body at that moment; I couldn’t describe the level of bliss I felt like I was in. Being able to hold her like this, the fact she’s enjoying it enough to keep tangling us into each other even further. I wanted nothing more than to lie here, listening to her breathe and feel her skin on mine. She’s so warm against me. My mind wanders as she aimlessly plays with my hair, and letting eyes fall shut. 

My mind is racing with thoughts about her and how we’re in this position. But it suddenly feels like everything comes to a screeching halt, all the noise stops, and my heart pounds as it sits there, front and center in my mind— 

 I think I love her. 

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Chapter Eighteen

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[age-of-greta]

The Sun

The Sun presents a feeling of optimism and fulfillment. It represents the dawn which follows the darkest of nights

Author’s note: hello!! welcome back to The Sun! I know it’s been a while, life has been busy. If you’re sticking around, thank you. I promise this fic is still on-going! I hope you enjoy this little chapter. Please excuse any typos :)

Paring: Josh x reader & Jake x

Warnings: smutttttt, angst, toxic relationships, cursing, alcohol consumption

Word count: 5k

PART 5:

It had cooled off significantly in Nashville as fall had settled in. You were thankful that the sweltering summer heat was finally behind you. Today you had planned on a solo shopping trip for a nice new pair of boots. You needed time with yourself to clear your head after the clusterfuck that the past week has been. Ever since they had gotten back from tour you and Josh were solid of course, spending most every day together after work/studio time. You had avoided going over there so you wouldn’t see Jake. You were still pissed at him. He texted you a few times, but you didn’t respond. You couldn’t avoid it much longer as there was a party tonight actually at the studio. One of the long-time techs were retiring and Josh invited you immediately after hearing about it. It was a surprise party, which was your favorite type of party. You grabbed your bag and headed towards your door, Josh would be coming by to get you in a few hours and you needed to get a new pair of boots to complete your outfit. One pair of boots turned into approximately four pair and a new pair of heels, but oh well. The vibe for tonight was casual, so you opted for a rather tight pair of black leather flare pants with a cropped and distressed vintage AC/DC shirt that showed a good bit of midriff. You threw on your usually chunky gold jewelry and picked out your favorite pair you had gotten today, black faux crocodile square platform boots. You applied makeup, crimped your hair, and spritzed yourself with Gucci Guilty. You felt confident and hot. Right on cue, Josh knocked on your door.

“Oh wow. Well hello!” Josh whistled at you.

You giggled at him. “Like the new boots?”

He eyed you, in a way you had never seen him eye you before. “I do. I really do.”

“Ready to get out of here?” You asked, grabbing your small black shoulder bag from it’s hook.

Josh stuck out his arm. “After you.”

You both piled into his Jeep. He was driving which meant he wasn’t intending on getting drunk, so you wouldn’t either.

There were a fair amount of cars in the studio parking lot.

“Well this doesn’t look suspicious at all.” Josh pokes.

You shake your head. “Absolutely not.”

It was jam packed inside. Josh told you to stay put while he got you a drink. You see Danny approaching you and give him a smile. He smiles back, but it’s almost a grimace.

“Hey?”

“Hey… I would avoid the other room tonight. Jake is pretty belligerently drunk. Sam has tried to talk to him, but we don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

You look at him strange. “Sounds pretty typical to me.”

He offers you a sympathetic look and pats your shoulder.

Josh returns with a Beatbox in hand. “This is the closest thing they have to wine. Holy shit it’s packed in here!”

You take the cardboard boxed drink and nod. “Thank you! Yes, it is. Is there another room or is this it?”

Josh winks at you. “Follow me!”

He leads you a room over. It’s less crowded, but there is still a considerable amount of people. Immediately you can see what Danny is talking about. Jake has a bottle of bourbon in one hand and a dirty blonde in a tight red dress in his lap. Something inside of you twists at that- and it makes you mad.

Josh coughs. “Well… I haven’t seen her in a while.”

You try to act like it doesn’t bother you. “Wow, uh who is that?”

“Katie.” Josh replies.

Jake catches the two of you from the corner of his eye. He gives you a bright smile and thrusts his bottle towards you. Then he grabs Katie by her neck and kisses her sloppily.

“Jesus Christ.” Josh winces. “That’s fucking embarrassing. Why is he doing that?”

You are inflamed inside. You know exactly why he’s doing that. Instead of telling Josh, you offer a shrug and a judgmental face.

He shakes his head. “Someone has to stop this shit before he makes an even bigger ass of himself. Come on.”

Josh trucks towards his twin and you stay behind him, nervous as to what Jake might do.

“Hey Jake.” Josh says approaching him. “Come with me for a minute.”

Jake groans and shimmy’s Katie off of him. Josh takes Jake and you into a small office.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you kidding me right now?” Josh asks, in an unbelievable tone.

Jake rolls his eyes at his twin. “Fuck off. Let me breathe.”

“You’re not going to be able to breathe if you don’t cut it the fuck out. We are in front of all of peers and you’re basically fucking her on that couch!” Josh yells.

Jake glances over at you and clenches his jaw. “So what.”

Josh scrunches his face up. “Seriously? What is wrong with you?”

Jake sighs. “I’m fine Josh- fuck.”

“Have you drank that half of that goddamn bottle?” Josh asks, pointing to bourbon.

Jake stays silent.

“Fuck- stay here. I’m going to grab you a bottle of water and you’re going to drink all of it. Give me that shit.” Josh tugs the bottle away and shoots you a sympathetic look before running out of the office.

Jake glances up at you. “Sugs. You look nice.”

“Jake.” You reply, half heartedly. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” He replies.

“You have a little bit of lipstick on your face.” You say, pointing to a red mark on his jaw.

“Thanks.” He replies flatly, wiping at it. “You know-“

“Okay! Here. This is the largest bottle of water I could find. I had planned on us leaving after Scotty had gotten here. I want you to leave with us. I’m not leaving you here like this.”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Jake grumbled.

“Not up for discussion. Please sober the fuck up.” With that, Josh took your hand and led you back to the party. He was the only person in the world who could put Jake in his place without repercussions.

“Fuckin idiot. I’m sorry, I had planned something fun for us after, but I need to make sure he doesn’t die.” Josh offers, still on edge about the situation.

He’s so thoughtful. You reach out and place a comforting hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I completely understand.”

“Thanks.” He offers.

Scotty showed up around 20 minutes later. Josh said his hellos, and then grabbed Jake forcing him to the car. The car ride was awkward and tense. Jake sat in the back with his arms crossed.

“You gonna tell me what all of this is about?” Josh asks, peering into the rear view mirror.

Jake glances at you and doesn’t say a word.

Josh huffs. “Fine. You need to shower when you get home. You reek of booze.”

Jake stays silent. The tension is palpable. You pinched at the fabric of your pants trying to keep yourself busy. Josh notices and reaches over, placing his hand over yours and gives it a squeeze. A quick glance to the rear-view mirror and you see Jake absolutely seething. He must be very drunk to behave like this.

When you finally pulled up, Jake stormed inside.

“What in the fuck…” Josh mumbled.

You bit your lip. “Hey, I think I’m going to head home okay? I don’t want to get caught in the crossfires.”

Josh huffs. “Yeah, okay I understand. Can I call you tomorrow?”

You nod and smile. “Of course. If you need anything, call me too.”

Josh grabs your hand and gives it a quick kiss. “I’m sorry about tonight. I’ll make it up to you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his genuineness. “Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

He stares at you for a moment, maybe longer than normal. Before unbuckling his seat belt and walking you to your car. When you got home, you poured a giant glass of wine and soaked in a hot bubble bath. Your head was positively spinning. What in the hell was going on? Why was Jake being such an asshole? Why did you feel blooming butterflies for Josh?

There was not a single answer that you had found at the bottom of the glass of wine. So you searched for another and when you didn’t find it there, you poured another glass accompanied by a large bowl of popcorn and a fuzzy blanket on your couch. You turned on some reality tv show to drown out the thoughts in your head. At some point you had fallen asleep, because you jolted at the sound of your phone. Popcorn had spilled everywhere and you had the onset of a small hangover due to the wine no doubt. You grabbed your phone, it was nearly 2:30 in the morning. You had a text from… Danny?

Hey. Can we do brunch tomorrow?

You made a face. That was weird? Of course you and Danny had done solo things before, but it wasn’t often and it hasn’t been in a while. You quickly texted back.

Hey, yeah. Everything okay?

You tapped your finger nervously while you saw the text bubbles appear.

Yes. Just wanna talk! Catch up

You locked your phone. Something was strange about this. Rather than dwell on it, you cleaned up and zombie walked to bed. Today was too much, tomorrow would be better. That’s what you told yourself anyway.

**

Brightness creeped inside your window as your eyes slowly opened. Your headache had continued unfortunately. You groaned and grabbed your water bottle chugging from it like the nectar of the gods were encased inside. 9:42 am. Okay, you still had time do a few things before brunch. You threw your comforter and sheets in the washing machine and brushed your teeth before asking Danny if 11:30 was okay. You two had agreed to meet at a cute coffee and pastry shop roughly ten minutes from your townhouse. You threw on a pair of flared leggings, sneakers, and a cropped sweatshirt then threw your hair up into a high ponytail. It would have to do. Grabbing your keys, you inched towards the door a small amount of anxiety swelling within. You had no idea what this random brunch date was about, but something told you it was more than just a “catch up.”

Danny was already there when you arrived, of course he was always early. He had already ordered you a coffee and breakfast sandwich with a side of fruit.

“Hello.” He offered, cheerily as you sat down.

“Hi.” You replied. “Thank you for ordering this. You didn’t have to.”

He throws his hand up. “Don’t mention it. I wasn’t sure if you would like the coffee. It’s a vanilla honey latte with almond milk.”

“That’s perfect actually.” You smile and take a sip.

“So…” Danny starts.

“So?” You question.

He chews on his lip for a minute. “How’s… everything?”

You give him a funny look. “It’s okay I suppose. Kind of busy at work right now with a big client onboarding process.”

He nods. “Yes, well what about everything else?”

You furrow your brows. “Everything is okay… Why? What are you trying to get at?”

He blows out a breath. “Okay. Jake.”

“Jake?” You question and feel your stomach sink a little.

He nods. “I know. Well sort of. I have seen you two sneaking around, the glances, the touching, smiles. I have also seen a shift in Jake, especially last night.”

You shake your head and feel your face turn red. “No, it’s nothing. Too much information, but we hooked up a time or two. But that’s it.”

“Does Jake know that?” He asks.

You let out a laugh. “He does. In a typical Jake fashion he was lying to me and sleeping with other people during the brief tenure that we were fooling around.”

Danny rubbed his temples. “God. Okay, that explains last night a bit I guess.”

“What happened last night?” You question.

“Well obviously he was belligerent at the party. I didn’t think much of it, he’s been moody lately but I honestly thought it had to do with his stress of the new album. But last night when Sam and I got back home he was something else. Yelling at Josh, attempting to drink more, and then he brought you up. It was brief, just something about Josh always having to be up your-“ Danny cleared his throat. “Anyway. That’s when I realized that this was about you. Whatever in the hell is going on between you two has him out of sorts. I can see that it was self-inflicted… Listen, Jake is not perfect. No one is. He has a lot of issues particularly when it comes to relationships.”

You huff a laugh. “Yeah, trust me I know. I just can’t do that again. We are like oil and water.”

Danny gives you a serious look. “I know that. It’s not ever going to work with you two. Jake is way too stubborn with commitment issues and you don’t put up with shit. But somehow he is still stuck on you. Despite all of the girls and flings he has been around. It’s different with you.”

You get quiet for a moment and glance at the ground.

“Which is what makes all of this more fucked up.” Danny blurts.

You cock your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head and pulls at the bridge of his nose. “Josh.”

Now you feel your stomach sink even more. “Josh? What do you mean Josh?”

Danny gives you a blank stare. “You torture that poor soul.”

You make a face at him. “What? What are you talking about.”

“Be serious for one minute. He is so obviously in love with you and has been for… hell years.” Danny says through furrowed brows.

You feel your face flush.

“You really didn’t know?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No… I didn’t.”

He huffs. “Well, shit. Um yeah. Like madly in love with you. Has been even before Jake…” He pauses. “I love both of them, so dearly. They’re twins, so it makes sense that they’re both in love with the same girl. As much as they try to differentiate themselves at their core they are one in the same. But, Josh has pined over you for years. Then he took a backseat to his own brother and put your happiness above his. He’s just the most selfless guy I’ve ever met. I don’t know… I just wanted you to know that.”

You stay quiet for a minute, your heart and mind racing 100 miles per minute. “Am I a bad person? I swear I didn’t know. I don’t even know what to think right now.”

Danny shakes his head immediately. “No, no you’re not. Hey, I didn’t ask you to come here to make you feel bad. I just wanted to try and offer some clarity, but also make you aware of the situation before we all implode.”

You can’t help but snicker at that. “Fuck. Okay. I guess it’s time to have some conversations.”

He grabs your hand. “I’m always here if you need me. Whatever your decision might be, I’m still always going to be here for you.”

You give him a grateful smile.

You knew what you needed to do.

You knew what was coming next.

You needed to call Jake.

**

Hey. Can we talk?

You glanced down at your screen, psychoanalysing every since character. You hit send and then threw your phone on the couch, as if something were going to happen. After breakfast, you went back to your house. Mostly staring off in deep thought. Josh… you knew you had new feelings for him to say the least. They had been developing for a while, but you could never quite place them. The thought of him hurting over you made you want to gouge your eyes out. Then there was Jake. Someone who made your heart beat fast and your back arch like a cat. You didn’t feel the same way for either of them, there was a clear difference in the two.

After thirty minutes your phone was buzzing. You cautiously walked over and picked it up, only to see an incoming call from Josh. Your stomach flips at the sight of it.

“Hey!” Josh cheerily sang out on the other line. “What are you up to?”

You bit your lip. “Nothing too exciting. I’m actually feeling a little bit under the weather.”

You could hear the concern in his voice. “Oh? What’s wrong? I’m at the studio today, but I could come by after and bring you soup or something.”

You shake your head. “No it’s okay. I’m fine, I just feel bleh. I need to rest I suppose and I don’t need you getting sick.”

“Okay. Well, if you need me, call me. You know I’ll be there. If you’re feeling better tomorrow we can go to dinner. Listen, I’ve got to run, I just wanted to check in on you.”

When you got off the phone you felt tears well in your eyes. You were tired, confused, and had no idea what to do next. Eventually, you grabbed the fluffiest blanket you owned and curled up on your couch. When you opened your eyes again it was getting near dark.

“Fuck.” You murmured.

You had slept a perfectly good day away. You picked up your phone to glance at the time and saw that Jake had responded around 20 minutes ago.

About to leave the studio. Want me to come by?

Before you could even think you typed out “yes.” You immediately went into cleaning mode and poured a glass of wine to settle your nerves. You decided to try and make yourself a little more presentable, running a brush through your hair and mascara in your lashes. You felt incredibly anxious, but kept your mind and hands busy cleaning. A half an hour later, you heard knocking at your door.

“Hi.” There stood Jake, as devastatingly beautiful as ever.

“Hey.” You replied, shuffling to the side to let him in.

“Wine?” You asked.

He nodded and sat at your kitchen table watching you uncork a bottle of red.

“Here.” You offered, sitting down the stemmed glass.

“Thanks.” He replied, swirling the liquid around. “So, what’s on your mind Sugar?”

“What are we doing Jake?” You ask, crossing your arms.

He furrows his brows at you. “What do you mean?”

You sigh at him. “You know what I mean.”

He takes a sip of wine and eyes you. “I dunno. We have… history. We’re just screwing around, having fun.”

You bite your lip. “Why?”

Jake crosses his arms right back at you. “Because we’re both consenting adults who enjoy each other?”

You shake your head. “No, I mean why are we doing this? We both know we are never going to have anything out of this. The longer we keep this up, the deeper we get.”

Jake blows out a breath. “I… I don’t have an answer for that Sugs.”

“You know that we will never have something to hold on to. You like to fuck around too much and I won’t put up with it.” You blurt out.

Jake rolls his eyes at that. “Why do we have to have labels on anything? I thought you were the one insisting on no strings?”

You laugh. “Seriously? You get pissed anytime any other man talks to me or touches me. Sure, no strings but I don’t want you sleeping with the whole fucking world while we are doing whatever in the hell we are doing!”

He rubs his eyes. “Fuck. I know, I know.”

“We have to stop.” You say, quietly.

Jake glances at you, his facial expression unreadable. “I don’t want to.”

“We have to. Whatever this is between us that we don’t talk about, and I’m not talking about the sex, is never going to be fixable. We aren’t good together. We both know it and we shouldn’t be bound to one another. No matter how much we feel like we might want to at times. You’re a rockstar for Christ’s sake. You can do whatever you want and have whoever you want. It suits you. I don’t.”

“Don’t say that.” He mumbles.

You shrug your shoulders.

Jake ponders this for a minute and rubs his face. “Fuck. When did things get so complicated between us huh?”

You laugh. “It always has been.”

“I suppose you’re right. I just don’t know how I’m supposed to be around you and not want to touch you.” He pokes with a smirk.

“The feeling is mutual…” you spit back.

His eyes find yours and he rubs his palms on his jeans. “One last time?”

“Jake…”

He raises his eyebrows at you.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. You want to hold strong, you really do. “One last time.” You agree. “But this is it, so make it count.”

“I intend to.” Jake says, nearly jumping out of his seat.

His lips are on yours instantly, that warm familiar sensation flooding through you. You and Jake couldn’t have a relationship together, but you definitely had this.

He walked you all the way to your room, your lips rarely detaching. You both collapsed on your bed, your hands tangled into his hair as he fumbled with the hem of your shirt.

“Fuck.” He groaned, as he pulled your top off. His hands meeting the soft flesh on your chest.

He slipped out of his shirt and pants then tugged your shorts down.

“You’re soaked Sugs.” Jake taunts, sliding his fingers over your clothed center.

You shutter at the feeling and close your eyes, trying to process that this would be the last time. Your eyes peel open after Jake delivers a swift smack to your center.

“Eye on me baby.” He warns.

You crack a smile. He wants to play tonight. He then makes a show out of removing your panties and kisses around your thighs, biting into the skin closest to your inner thigh. Finally, his fingers find your center and you moan. He adds his mouth and you’re all but there already.

“Oh god.” You softly cry, gripping the sheets.

He makes an obscene sound with his mouth and smiles up at you. “Not God, but you can worship me tonight baby.”

That did it. You felt that band snap inside of you as your orgasm washed over you. You rode out that feeling as long as you could.

Jake wasted no time turning you around and propping your ass up in the air. He smacked your ass and you felt your flesh ripple.

“Goddamn I will never get tired of that.” He all but moaned.

He teased you for a few minutes until he couldn’t stand it anymore, sinking into you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

Jake pressed you up against his back as he placed sloppy kisses down your jaw. His small amount of stubble tickling the your neck.. He sent his other hand down to your most sensitive spot, swirling his pointer and middle finger with the exact amount of pressure. You could tell he was coming undone.

“Don’t want this to end baby. Fuck.” He growled in your ear.

“Then don’t stop Jake. Don’t stop. God- just like that.” You whined.

He gripped your face sending two fingers in your mouth. You sucked around them and working your tongue in unison.

He moaned out at that. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy. You know that?”

You nodded, his fingers still in your mouth.

“Fuck.” Jake spit, as he pulled out of you and flipped you around. “Wanna see that pretty face when I make you come again.”

He swung one of your legs over his shoulder and gave it his all. You could tell he was holding back, but you were almost there again.

“I’m close Jake.” You manage to get out.

He picks up his pace. “Yeah? You like that? You take it so fucking well. Just like a slut. You liked to be fucked like a slut don’t you baby?”

You lit on fire at that. He knew exactly how to get you off as you nodded with tears in your eyes.

“Mhm that’s what I thought. Such a dirty little girl. Come on baby, give it to me Sugar. Wanna feel you.” He said confidently.

You couldn’t resist. You squeezed him as tight as you could and came harder than you had in a very long time. He was directly behind you, squeezing your hips so tightly you knew there would be bruises.

He panted a few times and then leaned down, kissing you softly before rolling off.

Then, your doorbell rang.

You shot up.

“Expecting visitors?” Jake asked with a confused face.

You shake your head.

“Want me to get it? He asks, grabbing his boxers.

“No, throw me my phone. Let me check my doorbell camera.” You say.

Jake begrudgingly grabs your phone and gives it to you. Your blood runs cold when you see who’s at your door.

“Josh?” Jake asks, surprise in his tone.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck!” You panic.

You glance at the screen again. He’s standing at your door with a bag of what you presume is soup and a 6 pack of ginger ale. You truly were such a giant piece of shit. Thankfully, Josh places all of the items on your doorstep and pulls out his phone.

Dropped by some goodies for you :) I hope you’re not asleep, your soup will be cold!

The text came through as soon as he turned around.

Jake scoffed a laugh.

You furrowed your brows at him. “What could possibly be funny! What if he saw your car?”

He rolled his eyes. “Relaxxxxxx drama queen. I had to park on the other side of the building because there was no parking. Even if he did, who cares?”

“He would be crushed and you know that.” You say, defensively- guilt washing through you.

“He follows you around like a fuckin’ lost puppy.” He huffs out.

“He’s my best friend Jake.” You spit, crossing your arms.

He makes a face at you. “Right.”

You run your fingers through your hair. “Fuck. We shouldn’t have done this.”

“Seriously?” Jake asks, a bite in his tone.

You nod.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” He belts out. “This is why we can’t work! This right here! You’re so goddamn hot and cold with me!”

You quickly throw your pants back on. “Me? Jake be so for real for one fucking second! You can’t commit for shit, but I’m the problem?”

“I can!” He yells. “You just don’t want it! You play this little charade that you do, but deep down you don’t.”

“I don’t know what I want Jake! But you don’t either!” You yell.

He backs down at that and you both take a few moments of silence to try and calm down.

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know how we operate from here. This is exhausting for both of us.”

He scoffs at you. “Yeah, no fucking kidding. Why are you so goddamn stubborn?”

You can’t help but crack a smile. “Why are you?”

Jake leans back on to your bed, scooting next to you. “We tried, I guess.”

You nuzzle next to him and laugh. “We kind of did.”

“I don’t know how to be your friend.” Jake admits, quietly.

You pause, trying to gauge what he’s saying. “We need some distance, but we’ll get there I think.”

He rubs his eyes. “Yeah.”

You both sit in silence for a few minutes, before Jake gets up. “I’m going to go.”

“Okay.” You offer softly.

He gives you a long glance. “Take care of yourself Sugar.”

You smile softly. “You too.”

With that, he dresses himself and leaves.

A wave of melancholy washes through you. It was kind of like a break up, but a needed one with a sense of closure. Guilt also fell upon you as you opened your door to see what Josh had brought you. You couldn’t even begin to fathom telling him about what has transpired between you and Jake, especially knowing what you know.

You grabbed your soup and made your way to your couch, grabbing your phone. You dialed Josh’s number and felt your heart beating unusually fast.

“Well hello.” He voice rang out, smooth and beautiful.

“Hi Joshy.” You cooed. “Have I ever told you how good you are to me?”

You can hear the grin on his face through the line. “A time or two, but I never get sick of hearing it. Feeling any better?”

“Yeah.” You croak out. “I- um slept some of it off I think.”

“Good.” He replies. “Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow if you feel up to it? I gotta make up for Friday night.”

You feel giddy at that. “Hm, let me check my schedule. Ah! I think I can pencil you in.”

He giggles into the phone. “Great. I appreciate your generosity.”

You both droned on the phone for a few hours, a new sense of excitement pitted in your stomach.

You didn’t know that Josh had felt that way about you. It was something you had been blind to. What was even more surprising to you, however, was the fact that you felt the same way about Josh.

And you didn’t even know the extent of it yet.

***

Thank you for reading <3

[gvfgal]

*New* 18. Iron & Bone Pt. 1

Barbarian. Biker!Jake

*18+ series, minors DNI

A/n: Second to the last chapter!! I don’t want to say too much, just hold on to your seats 😳. Questions and comments are always appreciated, and as always, enjoy. 🖤 (Or at least try to…)

Content Warnings: smoking, drinking, criminal activity, heavy angst, Jake on some ‘I see dead people’ shit, graphic violence

Word Count: 4.4k

Saturday

Jake awoke with a heaviness in his chest that felt almost suffocating, a strange, foreboding sensation that clung to him like a second skin. It wasn’t quite dread—no, this felt deeper, darker, like the quiet hum of doom lurking just beneath the surface. He stayed in bed for a long moment, staring at the cracked ceiling, trying to shake the feeling. But he knew he couldn’t stay in bed forever, with the final drop scheduled for that evening, he knew he had to reject the warmth of the sheets that felt like a safety net.

With a resigned sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. He could hear you in the kitchen, the soft clinking of plates and the faint sizzle of something on the stove drifting down the hallway. That small sound brought him a sliver of comfort, enough to push himself to his feet. He grabbed a clean shirt from the chair beside him and tugged it on before making his way toward the kitchen, his feet dragging as if each step were weighted.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, his voice still groggy from sleep. The sight of you stopped him in his tracks. You were standing by the stove, wearing a shirt that had long since stopped fitting, the hem riding up over your belly. The pajama pants hung loose on your frame, clearly a pair of his. The sight brought a faint smile to his lips, lifting the corners just slightly, though it wasn’t enough to shake the lingering weight in his chest.

You turned to him with a grin that rivaled the sunlight streaming through the window, and for a moment, his burdens didn’t feel so crushing. “I’m making breakfast,” you said, placing a hand on your hip with mock defiance. “Just because I’m seven months pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t cook.”

His smile grew a little, but the worry in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. “You okay, baby?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, your tone soft with concern.

He hesitated, then nodded, though it wasn’t convincing. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet. “I just didn’t sleep well.”

You remembered how restless he’d been last night, tossing and turning like he couldn’t find peace. At one point, you’d had to pull the comforter off him because of the furnace-like heat radiating from his body. Turning back to the stove, you plated a stack of pancakes and slid them onto the table with a glass of orange juice.

“Maybe a good breakfast will help,” you offered, nodding toward the table. Jake obediently sat down, though his movements were slow, as if his body were fighting against him.

You joined him with a plate of your own, the silence between you unsettling. Jake picked at his food, taking small bites that barely made a dent in the stack of pancakes. Pancakes were his favorite, yet today, he barely touched them.

“You got anything planned today?” you asked, hoping to fill the void.

Jake shrugged, his eyes focused on the plate in front of him. “Just business as usual. Got something I have to be at this evening, but… I think I’m gonna go for a ride today. Just by myself.”

You nodded, knowing how much solace he found in the open road. “That sounds like a good idea. It’s perfect riding weather.”

“It is,” he agreed softly, though the words felt hollow.

After breakfast, Jake stood and made a weak attempt to help you clear the table, but you waved him off. “Go get ready. I’ve got this.”

By the time you finished cleaning up, Jake had reappeared, dressed in his signature Barbarians vest, a clean white shirt, and his worn black jeans. His boots scuffed the floor as he approached, the faint smell of leather and cologne wrapping around you.

“Well, don’t you look handsome,” you teased, trying to lift his spirits.

Jake smirked, stepping close and pulling you into his arms. His hands rested lightly on your hips, his thumbs brushing over the sides of your bump as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” he said, his voice low but filled with an intensity that made your heart skip.

“I love you too,” you replied, searching his face for any sign of what was troubling him. But Jake, ever the master at hiding his emotions from you, gave nothing away.

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

You nodded, a knot of worry tightening in your chest as he kissed you one last time and grabbed his helmet. You followed him to the porch, watching as he mounted his bike. The engine roared to life, a sound that normally brought you comfort, but today it felt heavy, ominous.

Jake waved as he pulled away, the tires crunching against the dirt road. You stayed on the porch long after he disappeared from view, the unease lingering like a shadow. Something wasn’t right—you could feel it in your bones.

Lorelei kicked suddenly, a sharp jab that startled you out of your thoughts. You rubbed your hand over your belly, offering what comfort you could. “I know, baby,” you murmured. “He’s gonna be okay. He always is.”

But as the wind whispered through the trees and the distant sound of Jake’s bike faded into silence, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was shifting, something neither of you were ready for.

He couldn’t explain why his journey led him there that day. Jake hadn’t been back to that spot since it happened, since the day everything in his life had flipped on its head. But now, as the deserted landscape stretched out before him, he found himself only minutes away from where Jaxon had died. The desert road felt endless, the horizon blurring into a haze of heat and memory, but something deep inside him—something he couldn’t name—urged him forward.

As he rode, familiar landmarks began to rise in the distance. To anyone else, they were just rock formations, indistinguishable from countless others scattered across the desert. But to Jake, they were markers of a nightmare etched into his soul. His chest tightened as he spotted the jagged cliff where he’d been stationed that day, perched high above the chaos. For a moment, he swore he could see his younger self standing up there, scanning the terrain below, unaware of the tragedy that was about to unfold.

Jake slowed his bike to a stop, veering off the cracked pavement and onto the coarse, sandy ground. He killed the engine and swung his leg over, his boots crunching against the gravel as he walked toward the cluster of rocks. His body moved on instinct, each step pulling him closer to the exact spot where Jaxon had taken his last breath. How he was able to pinpoint it so quickly, he didn’t know—maybe it was muscle memory, maybe it was grief, or maybe it was something else entirely.

When he reached the boulder, he crouched down, his hand grazing the gritty surface. The desert wind whipped around him, hot and dry, carrying with it an eerie silence that seemed to press down on him from all sides. He let his palm rest against the rock, feeling its rough texture scrape against his skin. There, faint but undeniable, was a stain—dark and barely visible, but unmistakable. Jake’s throat tightened.

It looked like blood.

Jaxon’s blood.

Even after all these years, even after the rain and the relentless desert sun, the earth seemed to hold on to the memory of what had happened here. Jake’s breath hitched as flashes of that day seared through his mind. The gunfire, the shouting, the chaos. The moment he’d realized something was wrong. The split-second decision to abandon his post. And the sight of Jaxon crumpled on the ground, his lifeless eyes staring into nothing.

It all came rushing back with a force that nearly knocked him off balance. The desert around him felt heavy, suffocating, as if time itself had stopped to preserve the misery of that moment.

Jake crouched beside the boulder, his fingers tracing the faint stain on its surface, a lump forming in his throat as the memories clawed at him. The desert was eerily still, the only sound the faint whisper of the wind moving through the rocks. He shut his eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to steady the storm inside him.

When he opened them, he froze.

There, standing a few feet away, was Jaxon.

Jake blinked hard, his pulse pounding in his ears like a drumbeat. He had to be losing it. The weeks of sleepless nights, the unrelenting weight of stress—it was all catching up to him, twisting his mind into knots. But there he was—Jaxon. Clear as day, leaning casually against one of the sun-bleached rocks, arms crossed over his chest, his sandy curls tousled by the desert breeze. He looked exactly as Jake remembered him, untouched by time, forever frozen at 17. The sight hit Jake like a gut punch, a ghost plucked straight from his memories and dropped into the unforgiving reality of the desert.

“’Bout time you showed up,” Jaxon said, his voice light and familiar, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Jake stared, wide-eyed, his breath catching in his throat. “No way,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I’m losing my goddamn mind.”

“Probably,” Jaxon shrugged, pushing off the rock and walking toward him. “But hey, I’m here, aren’t I?”

Jake stood slowly, his legs stiff, his heart pounding. “You’re not real.”

Jaxon grinned, cocking his head. “Maybe not. But you’re talking to me anyway, so what does that say about you?”

Jake let out a shaky laugh, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’ve officially lost it.”

“Maybe,” Jaxon said again, stepping closer. His gaze softened, and for a moment, Jake forgot that his best friend had been dead for years. Jaxon looked alive, whole, like the version of him Jake wanted to remember.

“Damn, you look like shit,” Jaxon said, his grin widening. “What’s been going on, huh? You got that ‘I’m drowning in bullshit’ look again.”

Jake chuckled, a short, bitter sound. “That obvious, huh?”

“Always has been,” Jaxon said, sitting down on the boulder like it was any other day, like nothing had ever happened. He gestured for Jake to join him.

Jake hesitated before sinking back to the ground, leaning his back against the rock, his eyes flicking to Jaxon, half-expecting him to disappear. But he didn’t.

“You’ve got a lot on your plate,” Jaxon said, his voice quieter now. “Club’s in chaos, election coming up, baby on the way… Sounds like a hell of a ride, brother.”

Jake nodded slowly, his throat tightening. “I don’t know what to do, Jax. If I win, I’m stuck here. If I leave, I’m abandoning the guys. Either way, I lose.”

Jaxon tilted his head, considering. “It’s not about winning or losing, man. It’s about doing what’s right. For them, for her, for you.”

“I don’t even know what ‘right’ looks like anymore,” Jake admitted, his voice rough.

“You’ve always known,” Jaxon said, his tone steady, almost reassuring. “You just don’t trust yourself to make the call. But here’s the thing, Jake—you don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be better than the guy who came before you.”

Jake laughed dryly. “That’s not saying much.”

Jaxon chuckled, the sound light and familiar. “Nah, it’s not. But it’s a start.”

The silence stretched between them, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Finally, Jaxon spoke again, his voice quieter now, almost somber.

“You’ve got something I never had, Jake,” he said, his gaze dropping to Jake’s hands. “A chance to build something real. Something that lasts. Don’t waste it.”

Jake’s chest tightened as he looked at Jaxon, his best friend’s face etched with an honesty that cut deep.

“Jax…” he began, but his voice faltered.

Jaxon leaned forward, his expression serious now. “Just remember, brother,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, “sometimes the hardest road is the only one worth taking. And sometimes…” He hesitated, his gaze turning distant, like he was looking at something Jake couldn’t see. “Sometimes, you don’t get to decide when it starts, and when it ends.”

Before Jake could respond, Jaxon was gone.

It happened in an instant—one moment he was there, and the next, he wasn’t. The desert was still again, the wind brushing softly against the rocks, but Jake’s heart was pounding like he’d just come face-to-face with a ghost.

Because maybe he had.

When Jake arrived at the tavern that afternoon, he couldn’t shake the unease gripping him. The events from earlier in the desert had carved themselves into his thoughts, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make sense of it. The world felt slightly tilted, as if something essential had been knocked out of place. Everything around him—the faces, the voices, even the scent of stale beer and leather—felt like a strange echo of normalcy, but nothing about it grounded him.

The meeting room was crowded, members loitering in small groups, their voices bouncing off the walls. Jake spotted Ace at the front of the room, commanding the attention of a few high-ranking Barbarians. Normally, Jake would have gone straight to him, shared a joke or a nod of camaraderie, but not today. Today, he avoided eye contact, heading for a chair in the farthest corner of the room where he could observe without being noticed.

Settling into his seat, he scanned the room. The laughter, the jabs, the gruff voices—all of it was painfully familiar, comforting even. But today, the comfort felt hollow. As he leaned back, his mind churned with thoughts of what the future held. Is this it? he wondered. Is this where I’ll spend the next twenty years? These faces, this room, this life? It wasn’t just about the club anymore. It was about you, the baby, and what kind of life he could build for his family. A life like this—constant danger, moral compromises—wasn’t the life he wanted to offer you. But could he ever leave it behind? Did he even want to?

The sharp clap of Ace’s hands brought him back to the present.

“Alright, let’s get to it!” Ace’s voice boomed, commanding the attention of every man in the room. The hum of chatter died instantly as everyone found their seats. Jake straightened, but he didn’t move to the edge of his seat. He already knew what was coming.

Ace launched into the plan for the evening’s final drop, his tone steady and sure. Jake barely listened. He didn’t need to. The plan was etched into his brain at this point.

Meet the EDS at eight at the designated location. Escort them to the warehouse. Nicky and his team would have the money ready. Alejandro’s men would count it, finalize the deal, and the Barbarians would finally be free of their debt.

It sounded simple, straightforward. But Jake knew better. Nothing in this life ever went as smoothly as planned. The thought gnawed at him as Ace wrapped up the briefing.

“Alright, boys,” Ace finished, his eyes sweeping the room. “You’ve got a couple hours to get your heads straight, grab a drink, whatever. Be ready to roll at eight sharp.”

Chairs scraped across the floor as men began to rise and disperse, some heading for the bar, others to their bikes for a smoke. Jake stayed rooted in his chair, hoping to avoid Ace altogether. But his luck ran out when Ace caught up to him at the door.

“What’s up with you, kid?” Ace asked, his sharp eyes narrowing.

“Nothing,” Jake lied, brushing him off with a shrug. “I’m fine. Just haven’t been sleeping good.”

Ace wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, well, don’t expect that to change when you’ve got a newborn wailing at all hours,” he teased, his voice light but probing.

Jake shot him a sideways look, unamused. “Funny.”

Ace clapped him on the shoulder with a chuckle. “Look, kid, tonight’s gonna be a cakewalk. After this, you’ll finally get a breather. I’ll make sure of it.”

Jake didn’t have the energy to argue. “I’m good, Ace. Seriously.”

Ace studied him for a moment longer, his brows furrowed. He could see through Jake’s act, but he knew better than to push. With a final nod, he relented, stepping away to give Jake his space.

As Ace moved on, Jake exhaled deeply and retreated to a quiet corner of the tavern. The din of voices and the clinking of glasses faded into the background as he leaned back in his chair. His mind spun in circles, replaying every word Jaxon had said in his strange mirage-like visit in the desert. He thought about the election, about what it would mean if he won, and the weight of it pressed down on him like a boulder. The club could be his kingdom, his brothers an army at his back—but at what cost?

For a fleeting moment, Jake entertained the idea of staying, of making it work. If he had power, maybe he could protect you and the baby, keep you safe without running. Maybe being on the throne, with an army of Barbarians at his back, would give him the leverage to shield what mattered most. But then his gaze shifted to the men at the bar—his brothers—laughing, throwing back shots of whiskey like there wasn’t a storm brewing just outside the door.

They were fearless in their ignorance, loyal in their chaos, blind to the inevitable fallout of the life they’d chosen. It was the same blindness that had cost Jaxon his life, the same recklessness that had turned Rex into a tyrant. Jake felt the weight of it all pressing on him, the realization that no amount of power could insulate you and Lorelei from what the Barbarians truly brought along with them.

The few drinks Jake had over the past hour did little to dull the sharp edge of his anxiety. If anything, it felt like the knot in his chest only grew tighter. By the time the club was gearing up to hit the road, the unease had become a suffocating weight. Nicky and his small team had left about twenty minutes earlier, and now Jake was waiting for the last bike to fuel up, his nerves fraying with each passing second.

He stood beside his bike, burning through a cigarette, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he avoided eye contact with anyone. The feeling of Ace’s eyes on him was impossible to ignore, but Jake didn’t turn to meet them. He couldn’t. Not with the storm brewing in his mind, a mix of doubt, paranoia, and something darker he couldn’t name.

When the last bike roared to life, the group began to roll out, one by one, a steady procession of power and leather merging onto the road. Jake hung back, choosing to take up the rear of the pack, his thoughts racing faster than his bike ever could.

That nagging feeling that something was wrong refused to let go of him. It clung to his skin, crawled up his spine, whispered in his ear like an unwelcome ghost. Was he just being paranoid, haunted by the mistakes of the past? Or was his intuition screaming at him to pay attention?

The warehouse.

The voice was clear as day. Jaxon’s voice. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard it today, but hearing it now, on the edge of a critical moment, made his stomach churn.

Go to the warehouse.

Jake’s hands tightened on the handlebars, his knuckles white. He looked ahead to where Ace was leading the pack, his posture rigid, his focus locked on the road ahead. If Jake peeled off now, slipping away toward the warehouse, Ace probably wouldn’t notice until they reached the rendezvous point.

Do it.

“Fuck,” Jake muttered under his breath, the decision pressing down on him like a vice. His heart thudded as he began to ease his bike back, slowing just enough to break from the group without drawing attention. Ahead and to the right, he saw the turnoff that would take him straight to the warehouse.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then leaned into the turn, the roar of his engine swallowed by the sound of the others continuing down the road. Once he was clear, and the group had disappeared into the distance, Jake gunned the throttle, his bike eating up the road as he sped toward the warehouse.

The wind whipped against his face, but it couldn’t shake the growing pit in his stomach. He didn’t know what he’d find when he got there, but the urgency in Jaxon’s voice left him no choice.

Whatever waited for him at the warehouse, Jake knew it wasn’t going to be good. But he had to see it for himself.

The warehouse loomed in the distance, its shadow cast long and foreboding under the moonlight. Jake parked his bike and killed the engine, the silence around him unsettling. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat louder than the last as he stepped toward the entrance. The faint crunch of gravel beneath his boots was the only sound in the oppressive stillness.

The door creaked as he pushed it open, the dim overhead lights flickering as if the place itself was alive and uneasy. The warehouse was eerily quiet—too quiet. Jake’s instincts screamed at him, warning that something was wrong. He moved forward cautiously, his footsteps echoing in the vast, empty space.

And then he saw them.

Frogman and Nicky, hunched over the stacks of money, hurriedly loading it onto the back of an unfamiliar truck. The sight sent a surge of anger through Jake. He quickened his pace, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

Frogman froze, his head snapping toward Jake like a deer caught in headlights. Without a second thought, he dropped the money he was holding and bolted toward the back exit. Jake let him go—his focus was squarely on Nicky, who remained standing by the truck, a smug grin plastered across his face.

“Well, well,” Nicky drawled, leaning casually against the tailgate. “The Barbarian Prince. Something told me you’d show up here trying to save the day. Doesn’t surprise me, you’re always snaking your way into things you have no business being in.”

Jake clenched his fists, his body taut with fury. “What the fuck are you talking about, Nicky?”

Nicky’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with malice. “Jake, you don’t belong at the top. You don’t deserve it. So I’m making sure that doesn’t happen. You’ve already got Ace and half the guys eating out of your hand. Can’t let the golden boy take over on a count of a little nepotism.” He gestured to the truck. “So, I’m taking the money, hiding it where no one will ever find it. Then I’m gonna tip off Alejandro and tell him you stole it. Tell him it’s at Rex’s trailer.,” his smirk widened, “where you hid it.”

The words hit Jake like a sledgehammer. His chest tightened as he realized the implication—Nicky knew about the money in Rex’s trailer. The secret Jake had worked so hard to protect was now dangling in front of him, weaponized by the one person he least expected.

“You son of a—” Jake started, but the sound of heavy footsteps interrupted him.

Alejandro stepped into the room, flanked by two of his men, his dark eyes scanning the scene. His presence sucked the air from the room, his cold demeanor sending a chill down Jake’s spine.

“I knew I was right to listen to my gut and come here first,” Alejandro said, his voice calm yet dripping with menace. His gaze flicked between Jake and Nicky, landing on the truck before narrowing dangerously.

Jake stepped forward, his hands raised slightly in a placating gesture. “Alejandro, this isn’t what it looks like.”

Alejandro’s lips curled into a humorless smile. “Then tell me, Jake. What does it look like?” His expression darkened again, and his voice boomed in a loud echo through the room, a sound seemingly too loud to come from a man his size. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you and your little friend here are trying to take my fucking money!”

“It’s not like that!” Jake snapped, his voice rising. He turned to Nicky, his frustration boiling over. “Tell him the truth, Nicky!”

But Nicky didn’t move. He stood there in silence, his smug expression replaced by something unreadable. He was letting it play out, letting Jake take the fall.

Alejandro’s patience ran thin. He motioned to his men, who closed in on Jake and Nicky, forcing them to their knees. The cold steel of a gun pressed against Jake’s temple, and Alejandro’s rant began, his voice rising with every word.

“I trusted you, Jake. I trusted you as much as I did your father despite you walking out on your brotherhood. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, and this is how you repay me? Stealing from me? Concocting some elaborate plan just so you could stab me in the back.”

“I didn’t steal anything!” Jake shouted, the anger in his voice edged with desperation. “Alejandro I- you know me. You know I wouldn’t do this.”

Alejandro studied him for a long moment, his gun still aimed at Jake’s head. Then, with a casual shrug, he lowered the weapon and stepped back.

“You know,” he said, almost conversationally, “I want to believe you, Jake. In fact, I think I might believe you. But a man can never be too sure.” He paced in front of them, the room heavy with anticipation. “So, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m feeling generous tonight, so I’m willing to let you walk out of here with your life.”

Jake’s breath hitched as Alejandro turned to him, his voice taking on a razor-sharp edge. “But I can’t let two traitors live. So, if you want to leave, you have to kill Nicky. No weapons.”

Jake’s blood turned cold as Alejandro turned to Nicky, his expression unreadable. “And Nicky, if you don’t want to die here tonight, I suggest you fight back.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of Alejandro’s ultimatum pressing down like a vice. Jake’s fists clenched, his mind racing as he glanced at Nicky, who stared back with a mixture of defiance and something darker.

And then, Alejandro’s lips twitched into a sinister smile. “Well, boys?”

Taglist: @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @wetkleenex-gvf @hollyco @dannys-dream @slut4lando @josh-iamyour-mama @gretasfallingsky @takenbythemadness @scoreofinfantryvines

[devilat-thedoor]

brb plucking my eyes out so i never have to be subjected to this again.

[hailtheaeon]

oh… OHHHHHHHHH

[gretavangroupie]

Still, Us

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 30.7k

Warnings: Cursing, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Begging, Heartbreak, Sadness, Crying, Talks of Marriage, Touching, Kissing, Graphic Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Masturbation, and More.

Listen to the Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A/N: Wow this has been a long time coming. Sorry that I have been a little bit MIA lately, it was never my intention, life got crazy! I hope you will accept this as an apology. I have poured into this for weeks and I truly couldn’t have done it without the constant support from @gretavanmoon and @jakeyt. They have given me the drive to keep going even when I felt like giving up. This story would not have happened without them. Period. Anyway, I hope you like it and will accept my apology for being away so long. I have so much more planned for you all and I cannot wait to deliver. As always thank you so much for every comment, like, and reblog. It means so much to me to know that you enjoy my writing. ❤️

Frankenmuth, Michigan 

May 2014

“Jake, can you please turn it down just a little bit?” you plead, your feet propped up on the dashboard, and your hand hanging leisurely out the car window. The warm air feels magical as it glides through your fingers. You’d both been waiting for the warmer weather to blow through town and it was finally here.

You turn to look at Jake, his brown shaggy hair finally growing out like he wanted, just barely dusting over the tops of his shoulders now as it blows around him in the wind. 

“Turn down ‘Shooting Star’? Bad Company? Come on Pops, you know that’s not gonna happen,” he smirks, looking at you over the tops of his wayfarers. “This is like the story of my life.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head as you smile, watching him dramatically mouth the words to you as you coast up 83 towards your house. Jake is your best friend, has been for ten years now, and as you readied yourself for college life, he continued to pursue the dream he’s had since you’d known him, but now bringing his brothers into it with him.

“It’s hardly the story of your life,” you quip, “Maybe the life you wish you had.” you tease, elbowing him in the arm over the center console. 

He laughs as he purses his lips, and pushes you away, “Yeah you say that now, but watch. We are getting that damn record deal, I don’t care what it takes.”

You turned to look at him again as the two of you pulled off the freeway and headed toward your exit. He believed it. He truly did, and you believed that he would do exactly as he said. He has always been that way. Some would say he is hard headed, but you would say he is just determined. 

“I know, I know,” you start, being quickly cut off.

“You’re still coming right?” he urges, looking at you before looking back at the now green stoplight.

“Of course I’m still coming!” you laugh, “I pledged twenty bucks to be there, remember?!”

“Damn right, and you better be in the front where I can see you,” he grins, “Or should I say, where you can see me.”

You roll your eyes at him again, watching the shit eating grin stretch across his face. “You're so full of yourself Jacob Thomas, it's gonna get you in trouble one of these days, and I'm not gonna be there to save you.”

He puts his hand over his heart and looks absolutely offended by your comment, “Save me? Baby doll, you know I don’t need saving. You need saving. From yourself.”

“Oh really? How so?” you ask, challenging him with a quirk of your brow. 

He smirks as he keeps his eyes on the road, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, “You’re headed to college to be some hot shot lawyer or something. You’re way too cool for that, Pops. You should stick with me and the guys.”

You groan as he pitches his grand idea to you for the hundredth time.

“Seriously. You can do so many other things. You can tour, party, see the world, instead of sitting in some bleak office building reading dusty law books all day.” he says matter of factly.

“Jake…” you whine, knowing this conversation always goes nowhere and leaves your mind a mess of emotions. 

He sighs as his car comes to a stop in the driveway of your parents house. He looks over to you, and his voice is stern, “I’m serious Poppy. You’re a freebird, you’re not cut out for that boring life. I know it.”

You cut your eyes at him as you twist in the seat to face him, “So instead I can be some groupie, waiting on you guys hand and foot, cleaning up beer cans, and holding your hair back when you puke in some nasty bar bathroom? No thanks.”

He huffs in annoyance, “You know damn well that you'd be more than that. You'd be like…an honorary member of the band. You're not really the groupie type. You're far too good for that.” he says, twisting a lock of your messy hair over your shoulder. You can't help but to feel heat start to creep up your chest from the simple gesture. 

“You think so?” You ask timidly, your eyes locked in on his tawny brown eyes. 

His demeanor softens, and his finger twirls around the same lock of hair, “Poppy you are, without a shadow of a doubt, the smartest, toughest and coolest chick I’ve ever met. You are so much more than just some groupie.”

The nickname he gave you sounds different somehow– sweeter, maybe, in this moment. In an effort to quickly break the mounting tension growing between the two of you,  you nudge him hard in the arm, “You going soft on me, Kiszka?”

He laughs in response, his fingers releasing the lock of your hair and running them through his own before bringing it to rest on the steering wheel, “I may be many things, P, but soft is not one of them.” he grins playfully. “Now get out, I’ve got practice in ten minutes.”

You scoff and toss the passenger door open, grabbing your tattered bookbag on the way. As you shut the door he leans over the center console to look at you through the open window, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head.

“You know it’s just because I’m gonna miss you, Pops. More than I care to admit.” he confesses. 

“I know, Jake.” you answer, tossing your bag over your shoulder. “I'll miss you too.”

“Good. Oh, don’t forget I can’t pick you up tomorrow morning. We’re heading straight to Groovebox after classes to set up.” he says, flipping his glasses back down. 

“I remember,” you say with a playful eye roll.

“Don’t be late, Y/N,” he says sternly, lifting a brow.

“Rich coming from you,” you taunt, beginning to walk to your front door. 

“M’never late, just running on my own time,” he winks. “Catch up with you later, P,” he says finally, pulling away as Bad Company begins blasting through the speakers once more. 

—

Jake 8:57 PM: which shirt should I wear tomorrow

You 8:58 PM: Um, maybe that denim button down you like? With the pearl buttons?

Jake 8:59 PM: it’s dirty

You 9:00 PM: Ok uhhhh, what about that colorful shirt with the aztec looking patterns on it

Jake 9:00 PM: do you think that will look good on camera

You 9:01 PM: Yes

Jake 9:02 PM: do you think I should like, iron it or whatever

You 9:03 PM: Do rockstars iron their clothes?

Jake 9:04 PM: see you tomorrow ;)

The air is a bit cooler now that the sun has set, the wind whipping right through your thin shirt as you reach for the door handle to Groovebox Studios. Tonight was the night, finally. This has been all Jake has talked about for weeks and weeks on end. Tonight they would record seven songs, live, in front of all of their friends and family, and anyone else that pledged enough money to be there. It had been grueling listening to Jake torture himself over what songs they would choose to record tonight, but they finally narrowed it down. At least, you hoped they did since everyone was here and waiting. 

As you entered into the lobby it was bustling with familiar faces, all waiting to step into the studio to watch the session. You could hear the guys warming up through the wall, the wail of Jake's guitar immediately sticking out to you. You could also hear the crashing of the cymbals as Danny tested his kit and the deep thrum of Sam’s bass. You nervously picked at your fingernails as you waited to be let inside, eager to see the guys, but mostly Jake. You needed him to know you were here, on time, at that. 

A few minutes later the large double doors opened and everyone filed into the small studio. You weren’t really sure what to expect but there were bright lights, and cameras everywhere, scattered between recording equipment and wires. Jake hadn’t noticed you were here just yet, but you saw him immediately in the shirt the two of you decided on last night. Something about that made you warm inside but you forced it back down where it came from. It was Jake. It wasn’t like that. Right?

The first song began, the guys seeming completely relaxed and not at all phased by the large equipment and people surrounding them, watching their every move. Josh’s voice was as strong and confident as Danny’s drums. Finally, Jake looked up from his guitar and let his eyes scan the crowd. A small and relieved smile filled his face as his eyes met yours. A small nod of his head said everything you knew he wanted to say, seeing you there supporting him in the front row of people. You knew that being there meant a lot to him, and gave him the extra boost of confidence he needed to make it through this set.

You were completely transfixed watching him play, giving everything he had for those seven songs. It seemed to fly by in a flash, the show ending with all four guys sweaty and a little winded. The crowd that showed up for them broke out into a round of cheers and applause as you all marveled at the budding talent in front of you. You watched as Jake placed his guitar in the stand and moved towards the producers of the show, thanking them profusely as he shook their hands. 

Immediately after that though, his eyes found you. He walked straight towards you, ignoring everyone else around, wrapping you in a sweaty hug.

“Well, P, you made it on time,” he grins, pulling you in tight against him, your head resting against his chest. He smelled of sweat, cologne and faintly of smoke and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your knees just a little bit weak.

“How was it?” he panted, “Sound alright?”

You laugh pulling away from his grip, “Jake, that was amazing! Of course it sounded alright.”  

He smiles as you pull away, fidgeting with the tip of his nose,  “Yeah? You’re not just saying that ‘cause you’re my best friend, right?” he says with his signature smirk.

“When have I ever sugar coated anything, Jacob?” you taunt. 

He laughs as he playfully runs his hand through his damp hair, “Valid point.” he smirks, looking around briefly, “Stay right here for a sec. Don’t go, just need to go say hi to some people. Wait, you’re comin’ to the house right?”

“Is this you inviting me?” you tease, knowing you never need an invitation at the Kiszka household. 

He rolls his eyes, not playing into your little game one bit, “Yes, I’m inviting you smartass. Like you even need an invite.”

You nod your head and shoo him away to go talk to the people who came out to support him, but you can't help but feel special that you were the first person he wanted to see after such a big night. 

You watch as he moves from person to person, saying his hellos, shaking hands and talking about the show with each one. He was his normal, charismatic self, except for the small glances over to where you were waiting. It was as if he didn’t want you to go anywhere without checking on you every so often. You’re able to find a quiet corner of the studio to relax for a moment, and you find yourself watching him like he’s the only thing in the room.

He is still surrounded by everyone, laughing and talking. He is so in his element, being the center of attention. You're happy for him, he deserves it, but you find it a little annoying how every girl's eyes were glued to him. No matter how many times you push these thoughts away, they keep resurfacing. It's all in your head, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake the idea of being anything more than friends with him, yet you can't help the fluttering in your chest.

Twenty minutes later he is walking back over to you, the crowd of people slowly beginning to filter out as the rest of the guys begin to tear down their equipment. 

He comes to stand next to you, and his face is a bit more solemn now, the adrenaline from the show now long gone. “So I’ll see you at the house?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. “Just gotta pack up real quick, then make a quick beer stop then we will be home.”

“Beer stop? Did you forget we are 18?” you laugh. 

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Did you forget I have a fake ID?” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Plus, I heard Sara Matthews is working tonight, and she won’t question it.”

“Getting started on the whole bad boy rock and roll thing early, huh…”

He lets out a laugh as he gathers his guitar cables from the floor and slings them over his shoulder, “I’ll have you know that I’ve been a bad boy for a long time now, baby doll.”

An hour and a half later you’re finally back in Frankenmuth and turning onto his street. You can see a few cars parked outside the house but you don’t see their van just yet. You laugh to yourself wondering if Jake was busted for his fake ID yet, or if Sara still had that crush on him from fourth grade. When you see the familiar set of headlights behind you, you know it's the latter. 

The van comes screeching around the corner, sliding into the driveway and nearly taking out the mailbox. You laugh, recognizing Josh’s driving anywhere. He cuts the engine and jumps from the driver's seat with a grin. Jake slips out of the back door, pulling his guitar case from the backseat, his other hand holding a twelve-pack. Wordlessly, he trots up to your car, nodding at you to join him as he makes his way across the lawn and into the house, leaving the door wide open behind him.

You slowly walk up the steps, a weird feeling starting to settle in your stomach as you enter through the front door. Music is already blaring from the basement, and the loud hum of multiple people chatting is growing louder the further you walk. You take in a deep breath as you turn the corner into the living room. A giant group is already gathered around, sipping drinks and mingling in the dimly lit room. Your eyes scan the sea of people and you recognize some of the faces from the studio, and the rest are most likely here just to party.

Your eyes scan the room for Jake, wondering where he took off to, but then you see him come bounding down the stairs in a clean blue t-shirt and a smile. He makes a beeline straight for you, his eyes locked on yours as he navigates the crowd. He finally reaches you, his hand landing on your shoulder and ushering you away from the crowd of people. “Come here,” he murmurs under his breath as he drags you down the hall towards the kitchen.

You follow behind him as he makes his way into the kitchen, and you know he is dead set on enjoying his well deserved twelve-pack. As predicted he takes out two cans, popping the tabs and handing one to you.  “Well, let's toast.”

You take the silver can from him, cold in your hand, “Okay, let’s…”

He lifts his beer up towards you with a smirk, his eyes locked on yours, “I guess I just want to say thank you for putting up with all of this the last few years, I know it hasn’t been easy,” he grins, his eyes raking over you, “You put up with a lot of bullshit from me, but even after all of that you’re still here.”

You tap your can to his, “Where else would I be?” you breathe. 

He takes a moment to study your face, his eyes tracing over your cheeks, your nose, your chin as they land on your own eyes. The two of you silently stand next to each other, the sounds of the rest of the party still loud and present from the other room, and you can nearly feel his heart beating against his chest from where you’re standing. The unspoken feelings rushing between the two of you are almost palpable. He doesn’t answer your question, instead choosing to remain quiet as he keeps his eyes trained on you.

You pull the can to your lips, sipping at the bubbly beverage, only slightly wincing at the taste. 

He laughs watching you try to drink the beer, trying to hide the grimace as the hops tickle your taste-buds, “It’s an acquired taste, Pops.” he grins, “And you’re going to have to get used to it before you get to college.”

You sigh, “It's not like college is some big party. I doubt it's like the movies.”

He laughs, resting his can on the counter next to him, “Sure it is. Beer flows like waterfalls, parties happening every day, you’ll even have a couple different flings I bet–” he pauses for a moment, his expression growing serious, “Just have fun, Pops. Get the full college experience.”

“I'll try, but I have to take this seriously. Definitely no flings or beer waterfalls or whatever.” you answer, skirting around that subject the best you can. 

“Well yeah, take things seriously, but don’t count yourself out of a little fun, too.” he says, resting his palm behind his head. He’s quiet for a moment before he continues, “Maybe you’ll meet some fancy law student…fall in love and get married and all that.”

“I don’t know, Jake…” You say nervously. “That’s not why I’m going to college.” Why in the world were you two talking about this? You could feel your cheeks growing warm. Doesn’t he know that the only future you’ve ever planned is the one with him in it? 

He raises an eyebrow at your flushed expression, “What’s wrong Pops, planning out your dream life  as we speak?”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, “No,  Jake.” you grit out. “Can we like…go party or are we gonna stand here and play twenty questions about my love life all night?”

He raises his hands in surrender, “Fine, fine, we can go join those losers.” he murmurs, pushing himself off the counter. He lifts his hand in the air, motioning to the living room, “After you.”

A few hours later you find yourself laying on the basement floor in a pile of blankets, your mind hazy and free as you bask in the feeling of the alcohol swirling through your veins. Jake is laying next to you in a similar state, staring up at the warm string lights strung across the walls. Josh, Sam, and Danny are already passed out on the other side of the room, their snoring turning into a symphony as usual. Your body feels warm and weightless as you turn your head to the side to look at Jake.

He notices your movement, turning to face you, a small smile on his face as he watches you, a long empty can of beer clutched lazily in his hand. His cheeks are flushed and rosy, and you’re pretty sure he isn’t entirely with it considering you’ve lost count of how many beers he’s had since the party started. He lets out a small laugh, the kind he’s only capable of making when he’s like this, “You know what I just remembered?” he slurs, his words coming out slowly.

“What?” you answer, pursing your lips.

He grins, “Remember when we were kids, we’d sit on the edge of Cass River and throw rocks into the water for hours…‘til the sun would go down…” he mumbles, his gaze trained on the blue blanket beneath him. “We’d talk for hours, and it was just…So peaceful. We were best friends–” he trails off, running his tongue over his lower lip.

You nod, his words causing a slight tingle in your stomach as your own mind begins to wander. He is still watching you, his eyes traveling over your face, over your hair before he speaks again, “And we’re still best friends now…right?”

“Yeah of course we are, Jake. Me going to college isn’t going to change that.” you answer softly, seeing the worry painted across his face. 

He nods his head, a small smile creeping up on him, “I know. I know, I just…” he pauses, his thoughts coming a little slower now, “I just don’t know what I’m going to do without you here. I’m used to you bein’ around, it’s gonna feel weird…different.”

“It’s not like I’ll never come home, and you can call me and text me whenever you want. You know that. Where is all of this coming from, Jake?”

He sighs, his eyes dropping from your face and looking instead at the ceiling, “I dunno, I just…I guess I’m realizing it a bit more now that it’s actually about to happen. You’re going to school hundreds of miles away, with other people…other guys, and I won’t be there to keep those idiots in check.”

You giggle a little, the thought of him fending off guys a little humorous. “I already told you, I’m not going to college looking for guys. I’m going to become a lawyer, and I have to focus on the LSAT and getting into law school and everything else. Guys are going to be the last thing on my mind.”

He lets out an exasperated breath, “I know, Pops. That wasn’t my point.” he mutters before rolling onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. His eyebrows are furrowed together as he looks at you, “I’m just worried about you, okay? I don’t want some douchey frat guy to come up and ruin everything…”

“Ruin what?” you ask, furrowing your brows. 

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he looks away for a brief moment, but his gaze immediately returns on yours. “This.” he mutters softly, motioning a hand between the two of you. “Us. Our friendship, our bond. You know what I mean so don’t pretend that you don’t.”

“Nothing is going to come between us, Jake. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

He nods, a small hint of a smile creeping across his face, the tension in his shoulders slowly releasing, “I know you wouldn’t…it’s just me being a dumbass, as usual.”

“Jake, you're not a dumbass. I get it. I have the same worries you know. For all I know you’ll meet some super cool girl when you guys inevitably go on tour, and next thing you know you’ve forgotten my name.”

He laughs, moving his hand to playfully swat at you, “Come on now…there’s no way I’m going to forget your name, you’re the only girl I ever think about.”

You feel your heart lurch into your chest at his confession. He may not mean it the way you’re taking it, but part of you wonders if maybe he does. 

“So it’s agreed, no douchey frat guys for me, and no rockstar girlfriends for you,” you tease.

He laughs again, his fingers lightly brushing against the skin of your arm, “If that makes you happy then yes…agreed.” he grins, watching as the motion of his hand leaves a trail of goosebumps down your arm. “Just promise me one thing…”

“What’s that…” you answer. 

“Just, tell me…if you do– if you start to fall in love. Just tell me first.” he breathes. 

You can see the sincerity in his face, and hear it in his words. He really thinks…

“Jake, guys don’t– they don’t see me like that,” you pause. “It’s never been like that for me.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, a frown on his lips growing by the second. “Bullshit.” he mutters, “Guys don’t see you like what?”

You muster up the courage thanks to the alcohol in your system, and tell him what you really think. “I’m not the kind of girl that guys fall in love with. I am plain– average old, Y/N. I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

He scoffs and turns onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows, “Plain and average? Is that what you really think?” he asks with disbelief. “Y/N, you’re beautiful, and the guys around here are just too blind to see it. There are guys who would kill to be with you, for just one single chance.”

“I don’t know, Jake. Maybe. But like I said, I don’t care about that. Once I make it on at a firm, maybe I’ll consider it.” you say. 

He studies your face, the alcohol starting to dull his inhibitions, his thoughts coming out unfiltered at this point, “You’re thinking like, ten years in the future P! You’re about to go to college and you’re talking like you’re never gonna meet anyone or pay anyone any mind. For ten years!  You’ve got to live, Poppy! You’ve never even been kissed for Christ’s sake!”

“Wow,” you breathe, the hurt washing over you. 

​​He sighs, realizing that he might have gone too far, “I didn't-” he stops, looking away from you before he speaks up again, “I'm sorry, that was shitty. I didn't mean to say it like that.”

“No, it’s fine. I mean, you’re right.” you reply. 

He looks back at you, his fingers running over your arm again, “No, it’s not…I shouldn’t have said it like that. It’s just, you think so little of yourself sometimes and it drives me insane. You are like…the most amazing person ever, and I don’t–” he stops himself, biting down on his bottom lip, “I just don’t understand how guys don’t see it.”

You’re a little taken aback, this is the first time that his true feelings about you have really come out. You’re unsure what to even say. 

“Thanks, Jake.” you smile, “I’ll let you know how my love life is going ten years from now.” you giggle. 

He looks at you for a long minute, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. 

“I have a better idea,” he says, taking a deep breath. “We’re 18 now, right?”

“Right…” you answer hesitantly.

“If you’re sure that you are dead set on waiting until you’re done with school to be with someone…” he pauses. 

“I am…” you confirm.

“Alright, when we are thirty, if neither of us are married…” he pauses, “Let’s marry each other.”

Shock fills your features, and you can tell that he notices by the smile pulling across his lips. He laughs lightly when you finally muster out a few syllables, “Come on P…it’s the perfect plan. If we’re both still single by thirty, we’ll get hitched.”

“Married?! Jake, you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t want to marry me!?”

“Sure I do. You’ve always been my girl,” he murmurs, still smiling, “and we’ve already established that no other guy will ever know you better than me. We’ve been best friends since we were kids, been through every high and low, you’re the only one who’s stuck with me through it all…so,” his voice trails off, “if we’re both available at thirty, I see no reason why we shouldn’t marry each other. Plus, our parents would love it.”

“Jake, this is crazy,” you pause, “I can’t let you do this. You can’t make that kind of promise…”

He leans back against the pillow behind him, his expression growing serious as he turns and looks at you, “I think I can. And I wouldn’t be promising if I couldn’t keep it. You’re it for me, Poppy. You always have been...”

“I didn’t think– Do you– I didn’t think you felt that way about me…” 

He lets out a dry laugh, watching the realization starting to hit you, “How could you not know? We’ve spent our entire lives together…this is nothing new.” he sighs, pausing for a moment, “I should have probably said something before, but…I think a part of me was afraid that you didn’t feel the same way and I would end up ruining everything and lose you…” he pauses. “Why do you think I’m over here telling you not to fall in love with some stupid college guy? I want it to be me, P…I’m your guy. I always have been. The question is, do you feel the same?”

“Of course I do Jake. I– I just…” you stammer. “I’m sorry I don’t even know what to say, I–”

Your heart is racing and your eyes are glued to his every movement. You want to scream from the rooftops, but right here in the moment you can barely form a word. 

“Say you feel the same, that’s all you need to say.” He gently takes up your chin, his thumb running across your bottom lip, “Say you want it to be me.”

Your eyelids grow heavy as his warm thumb brushes your lip, “Yes,” you breathe, your eyes locked on his. “I feel the same.”

He lets out a low breath, the words that you’ve just spoken going straight to his gut, “You know I’ve wanted to kiss you for as long as I can remember.” he murmurs, his fingers still resting against your chin.

“Really…”

He nods his head, a small smile creeping up on the corner of his mouth, “Yeah. Since middle school, at the very least. Maybe even earlier…” he pauses, “It’s a shame you’re making me wait until we’re thirty.”

You smile at him playfully, “I mean...maybe we don't have to…”

A low grin slowly spreads across his face, “Don’t tease me, P.” he murmurs, his fingers still lingering on your chin and gently tugging at your bottom lip.

“Who says I am?” you whisper.

His breathing is becoming ragged as he gently runs his thumb over your bottom lip once more, “Poppy…say yes…” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

“To what?” you breathe. 

“To the pact. To kissing me. To all of it.” he mumbles, his thumb still stroking over your bottom lip, his free hand slowly traveling from your neck to the small of your back, gently pulling you towards him.

Your eyes flick to his, the string lights glowing in the reflection of his eyes. You can feel his body pressed against yours in the most delicious way, the closest you’ve ever been to  each other.  “Yes, Jake.”

And just like that, his lips are crashing into yours, his hand moving from your lower back to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, a low breathy moan leaving his lips as he pulls you into him even more. His kiss is slow and tender at first, the taste of beer still lingering on his lips as he moves them over yours in a languid back and forth, but it soon turns desperate and hungry as his tongue presses urgently against yours, a low growl leaving his chest, all of the feelings and emotions that he’s harbored for years releasing themselves in this one moment. But within seconds, it’s over. 

He rests his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing in and out heavily. The kiss has both of you in a daze, your mind struggling to focus on anything other than the fact that your best friend just kissed you. Your first kiss. A content smile stretches across your face before you let your head fall into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne as he wraps his arms around you. 

He holds you tightly against him, his chin resting at the top of your head as he runs his fingers across your bare arm. The feeling of your body pressed against his is one you’ve dreamed about for years and now experiencing it for the first time, you never want him to let you go.

“Thank you, Jake.” you say softly into his chest. 

He pulls you in even tighter, his heart rate finally starting to return to normal as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “For what?” he hums softly.

“For being my first kiss. I always wanted it to be you.” you answer. 

A smile spreads across his face and he squeezes you a little tighter again. “Me too, Pops.” He pauses, his hand finding a loose strand of your hair and twisting it around his finger, “and for the record, I hope I’m your last.”

You laugh, but then an idea strikes you. “Oh yeah, about that. Don't we need to like, sign our names on the line or something?” you say playfully. 

He pauses for a moment, looking down at you but quickly realizing what you mean. A small smirk spreads across his face and he lets out a small laugh, “I don’t know if we’ve got a pen and paper down here…”

You shrug as you look at him, but then he quickly reaches his hand into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled gas station receipt from his beer run earlier in the night. “Will this work?”

“I don’t see why not?” you grin. 

He reaches up behind the two of you, digging around in the pocket  of Josh’s backpack that was left on the couch, pulling his hand out with a smile. “A pen.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes ironing out the fine print of your arrangement, before Jake takes the liberty of writing out the words on the back of the receipt paper. 

‘At age 30, if both parties are single they will enter into marriage with each other.’

You both sign your names beneath the words, the act feeling strangely good and you can tell you both are feeling it. “So it’s official…” you say, letting your eyes meet his.

He stares down at the receipt, the ink of your signatures drying on the back. A weird feeling of finality washes over you as he slowly nods his head, “Yeah, I guess we’re really doing this.”

“The pact.” you grin, leaning into his shoulder. 

He lets out a soft laugh as he looks down at you, his arm wrapping tighter around your shoulders, “The pact,” he repeats softly, before pressing another kiss to the top of your head and sealing your fate as you know it. 

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

2015 

“Yeah, fuck–” he groans, “keep doing that, baby…”

Your eyes flick up to meet his icy blue eyes, his tip nudging the back of your throat as you take as much of him as you can. You know it won’t be long now, you can feel the tightening of his abs as he fights off his release. You release him from your lips with a pop, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock for dramatic effect. You can hear the bass line of ‘Starboy’ thundering through the walls of the fraternity house party still happening downstairs, momentarily pulling you from the moment you found yourself in. 

You feel Trevors hand as it lands on the back of your head, returning you to your task. Again you take him into your throat, never letting your eyes part from his as your hands cup his balls. 

“Fuck baby doll, you’re fuckin’ amazing,” he groans,  his cock starting to jerk with need. 

You wince as the pet name rolls off his tongue, taking you back to a place you’d rather not remember right now. Right back to Jake. 

Jake. Where was he right now? What was he doing? Surely he wasn’t at the back of some girl's throat. What were you doing?

Suddenly you feel him as his cum starts to paint the back of your throat, swallowing him down with every grunt that leaves his chest. You pull off of him quickly, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. Your mind is suddenly a jumbled mess of thoughts, the single word sending you into a tailspin of guilt. 

“Felt good as fuck, baby,” Trevor says, pulling up his jeans. 

You give him a curt smile as you pull yourself up off of the dirty bathroom floor. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“What?” he questions, grabbing his red cup from the bathroom counter. “Baby?”

“No.” you answer quickly. “Baby doll. Don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

“Sorry, babe. My bad.” he says nonchalantly. “You good?” he asks, turning to open the bathroom door.

You let out a sigh, “Yeah. I’m fine.” you answer, watching him spin the door knob to open the door. The music from the party hits you full force, and that combined with the alcohol in your system hits you hard. “Actually, I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Why, the party is just getting started, it's only two,” he says, ushering you down the stairs. “And I thought you were coming home with me tonight.”

“Eh, I need to be at the library tomorrow morning first thing. I have an exam tomorrow afternoon.” you say, “I’ll call you though, yeah?”

He shakes his head, “Whatever, babe. Later.”

Relief washes over you as you free yourself from Trevor, and make your way through the party and out into the fresh air of Fraternity row.

“Fuck. What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?” you grit out, making the short walk back to your dorm. The air is starting to chill as fall begins to wash over Chicago. You kick yourself the entire way to your door, immediate regret setting in as you let your mind wander back to Jake. 

It had been a few weeks since the two of you spoke, and you definitely hadn’t let him know about your little ongoing situation with Trevor. You didn’t even truly know if you needed to. It wasn’t serious, and that was the deal, right?

As you lock the door behind you, you toss your bag onto your desk, hearing the loud thud as your phone hits the wooden table. It reminds you that you haven’t looked at it in hours. Pulling it from your purse you see a few Instagram notifications but more importantly you see that you missed call and a missed text from Jake. You wonder if you were on his mind, too. 

Jake 1:46 AM: Pops, call me when you can, I have big news.

Your eyes flash to your clock seeing it read out 2:32 AM, and you wonder if he is still up. If he would answer your call. You decide to try, knowing he keeps late hours. The line rings out four times before you hear his raspy voice answering the call. 

“Hey Pops,” he says, and you can tell you’ve woken him. 

“Shit, sorry, I woke you up didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Nice to hear your voice instead of reading it on a screen,” he laughs, clearing his throat. “It’s late Poppy, where have you been all night? Are you just getting home?”

You feel hesitant to answer but decide on the truth, “Yeah, I– I was out. I was at a party with some friends.”

You hear a deep hum as he takes in your words and you already know what he’s thinking. “Did you have fun?”

“Um, yeah I guess so…” you lie. “But that's not why I’m calling, I saw your text. What’s up, is everything okay?”

He lets out a soft sigh, his voice still thick with sleep, “Yeah everything is fine. Everything is great actually. Sorry to just text you out of the blue like that, but I wanted to– I just wanted to tell you over the phone instead of texting.” He pauses for a moment, as if trying to gather his thoughts, “It took a while but, the deal went through. We were signed for an album and we’re  gonna tour it.”

“Oh my god, Jake!”

“We are releasing a fucking album, Pops.” he repeats. 

“I don’t even know what to say, I am so– I am so proud of you Jake! I can’t believe it! I mean, I can but, you know what I mean!” you gush. 

You hear his soft laugh from the other end of the phone, “You don’t really have to say anything. Or you can scream or do whatever. I just needed to tell you. I wanted you to be the first person to know.”

The words then hit you, “Wait, I’m the first person you’ve told?”

“Yeah, you’re the first.” he laughs, “You’re the one I need to tell everything to, first. Just how it's always been. How I want it to always be.”

“I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

You can hear his smile on the other end of the phone, “I’m proud too. God, I wish you were here, Pops. Wish you were here celebrating with me.”

A sigh leaves your lips, “I wish I was there too.”

“Pops, listen, it– It might be a while before we can see each other again. We– we’re going to be touring all through the spring. All over the place…”

“Oh, I–”

“No, no, don’t worry or anything, I just mean I will miss you, that’s all. But you’re doing your thing in Chicago and I’m doing mine out here. Just kinda the paths we are on right now.” he pauses, “But I’ve still got a couple of weeks at the end of the year before we go. We can see each other then, right?”

You bite your lips together as you try to stay positive, “Yeah. Yeah of course.”

“Good.” he answers, “Just keep on going, Poppy. We’ve got this.”

“Yeah. Yeah we do.” you answer quietly. 

“Alright, well, we should probably get some sleep, it’s late. But one more thing before you go…” he trails off. 

“What’s that…”

“Just…” he pauses hesitantly, “We’re still, us, right?”

“Yeah, Jake. We’re still us. Nothing has changed.” you confirm. 

“Okay. Well, goodnight, Pops,” he says, his voice growing sleepy again. 

“Goodnight, Jake.” you whisper, hitting the red button to end the call. 

As you collapse down onto your lumpy dorm room bed you run your hand over your face. You try to shake the hollow feeling in your stomach at the thought of everything being okay, but you couldn’t shake the nagging sense of unease washing over you as you pull the blankets over your head. 

December 8,  2015

Jake 4:27 PM: When do you come home for winter break?

You 5:09 PM: I’m not sure yet. Cramming for finals currently. 

Jake 5:20 PM: good luck pops

December 19, 2015

Jake 11:47AM: We are leaving for Detroit to get a van and trailer. I can’t believe we are really going on tour. Miss you. 

December 22, 2015

Jake 9:57 PM:  I saw your mom today and she said you won’t be home for Christmas. Would it be weird if I came to see you? Let me know. 

December 25, 2015

Jake 7:46 AM: Merry Christmas, Pops. 

You 9:04 AM: Merry Christmas, Jake. Miss you. I’ll call you soon. 

December 29, 2015

You 12:03 PM: sorry I haven’t called, I’ve been so busy. When do you leave for tour?

Jake 1:10 PM: January 8th. We’ll be in Chicago on the 24th, should I leave you a ticket?

You 1:27 PM: Can you leave two?

Jake 1:30 PM: Anything for you pops. Can’t wait to see you. 

January 23, 2016

Jake 8:46 PM: leaving the venue in Springfield heading towards Chicago. See you tomorrow?

You 9:23 PM: Yes ❤️

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

January 24, 2016

“So what’ve you got going today babe?” Trevor asks, rolling over to face you. 

“Honestly not a lot. I have a class at 1:00 then I guess I am just going to come back here and get ready to go to that show. You still want to come with me right?”

“Yeah for sure, sounds like a good time,” he says, kissing your  shoulder as you sit up on your elbows. The sheet now barely covers your naked bodies, the light sheen of sweat now dry.

A knock on your door startles both of you, your head snapping to the right to look at Trevor, “You think it’s the RA?” 

“Fucking hope not,” he whispers, quickly pulling himself up out of your bed. 

You jump up, grabbing a t-shirt and pulling it over your head as you rush to the door. You push back your hair and take a deep breath as you open the door, but much to your surprise, it’s not the RA.

“Jake?!” 

“Hey, Pops,” he grins, his smile lighting you on fire. His hands are in his pockets, and he seems almost nervous.

“Jake what– what are you doing here?” you rush out, taking in the sight of him for the first time in a long time. His hair is longer now, and he seems as if he's added a little bit of muscle tone.

“We got into town early, thought I’d surprise you,” he answers, his eyes flicking up and down your body as he takes in your current state.

Before you even have time to explain, Trevor walks up behind you, placing his hand on your shoulder. 

“All good, babe?” he asks, his eyes locked on Jake. 

You see the exact moment that realization hits Jake and you swallow harshly, “Yeah, yeah, um everything is fine. This is my friend Jake. He’s in the band we’re seeing tonight.”

You watch as Jake lets out a small huff of air, anger washing over him. “Jake,” he nods, “Nice to meet you.” 

“You too.” Trevor answers. 

“I see you’re busy, Pops. I’ll uh– catch you later.” he says, looking at you before walking away. You don’t even have time to speak before you hear the elevator doors opening. You shut your dorm room door with tears welling in your eyes, doing your best to not let Trevor see, but a huge lump has formed in your throat, and you feel like you might be sick, so you quickly dart into the bathroom before Trevor can question you. 

Your blood is rushing around furiously as you pick up the two tickets at willcall under your name.  Trevor seems oblivious to your anxiety, though, you are doing your best to keep it under wraps. The energy in the small venue is buzzing around you and your excitement doubles once you step through the double doors and enter inside. There are a few people gathered at the front of the stage, and you and Trevor step up behind them. Your heart is pounding as your eyes catch on the drum kit, seeing the band's logo displayed proudly. It won't be too much longer until they go on stage, opening for the main act, and you know more people will begin to show up after they start. 

“So you’ve seen them before?” Trevor asks, turning to look at you. 

“Um, yeah kinda. But not like this. Not on a big stage with lights and real sound equipment,” you answer, doing your best to shut him up. 

Your eyes are focused on the side of the stage where you see a few familiar faces getting ready to go on stage. A smile stretches across your face and your heart starts to pound harder, knowing Jake will be in front of you in mere seconds. The house music starts to quiet down and you watch as Josh takes the stage. He is followed by Sam and Danny, and finally you see Jake step up with his red SG.

They immediately begin playing, and Josh starts talking to the crowd of people that have gathered around you. There are more people here than you would have thought, but you chalk it up to their successful shows in other surrounding states. But you’re more so shocked at the sheer presence of  them on the stage. In seconds Jake’s guitar is commanding the attention of the entire venue, all eyes on him. Part of you wants him to look at you, but the other part of you is still feeling guilty about this morning's earlier interaction. 

As your attention focuses on him, you notice that his attention seems to be focused on everything but the crowd of people in front of him, in fact he seems to be looking over the crowd as he strums out the chords to the first song. It’s then you realize that he seems to be intentionally not looking for you. You hate to admit that it  hurts. 

The performance begins, and Josh starts the opening lyrics to a song you've never heard before, but it's incredible. You can't help but notice that the lyrics seem almost as if they could be about you, and it sends chills up and down your spine. Surely not.

It's then that Jake's eyes meet yours, locking in on you as Josh continues to sing. Your breath is caught in your chest and as you struggle to blink you see Jake look over at Trevor. Your heart begins to race, your cheeks turning flushed. It seems as if time has stopped, like the two of you are the only people here, in the entire world. You hold his gaze again for a moment before he rips his eyes away, returning his focus back to the music. 

The show continues this way, the constant back and forth as the two of you look at each other, speaking silently as he plays guitar. It feels like an eternity before the show is finally over, their set is ending and the guys are walking offstage. The crowd erupts into applause and cheers, and you and Trevor begin to make your way towards the back of the venue, but not before Josh spots you and wraps his sweaty arms around you. 

He looks flushed and out of breath but still has a million dollar smile plastered across his face, “Y/N! I’m glad you made it out. Did you enjoy the show?” he says, but doesn’t let go of the hug despite him dripping sweat onto your shoulder.

“Of course I did! I always do, you guys were amazing!” you shout, hearing the headliner start their set. “It’s nice to see you on a real stage where you belong.”

He lets out a low laugh, finally letting go of you, “It’s still unreal. I can’t even pretend like I’m used to it. Thanks for being here.” he pauses. “I don’t know where Jake ran off to but I’ll find him and send him your way.”

“Thanks,” you smile, seeing him wave over his shoulder. 

You turn back around to see Trevor standing beside you, a small hint of confusion on his face. He looks like he has something he wants to say, and you know exactly what it is.

“Yes, I know the whole band, and yes Jake is a twin,” you smile. 

He shakes his head and looks down at the sticky bar floor before looking back at you. “No actually it's not that. I saw the way you look at him, Y/N, at Jake… Like you couldn’t take your eyes off of him for the entire show. And how he couldn’t take his eyes off you either. Not once.”

Panic begins to set in, your heart rate immediately spiking, “What? No. I– I watched everybody, Trev.”

He raises an eyebrow as he stares you down, “No, you didn’t. You watched him.” he replies, his face growing serious as he looks you over, “I’m not stupid, babe. You’ve been with me for a while now, and I have never once seen you look at me the way you were looking at him.”

“No, you’re imagining things,” you say dismissively, seeing Jake appear in the crowd, heading your direction at possibly the worst time. 

“No, I’m not imagining things,” he mutters, his words turning cold. “Just admit it. Say that you have feelings for him.”

Jake finally makes his way over to you, and by that point the tension between the three of you is as thick as molasses. Jake’s face changes the moment he sees the expression on your face.

“Hey Pops, what’s going on? Everything okay?” he asks, his eyes flickering between you and Trevor.

“Um–” you stammer, unsure what to say to diffuse the tension between you and Trevor.

Trevor looks at Jake, his eyes narrowing at your obvious discomfort, “Just settling an issue here, that’s all.”

Jake looks at him, obviously confused and concerned, “What issue is that?”

“Oh, so you’re going to play dumb, too?” Trevor quips, “Of course.”

Jake’s face turns serious as his eyes narrow, “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, man. You want to tell me what the hell’s going on?”

“Not much to tell. I can just tell when a guy and a girl have feelings for each other. We’re working through the issue right now.” he answers nonchalantly, gesturing in your direction.

“Trevor!” you snap, your face burning with embarrassment. 

He shrugs his shoulders, “What? We are. Am I wrong? You’ve got feelings for this dude, right?”

Jake is standing stock still, his eyes wide and focused on you as Trevor mentions the feelings you’re not supposed to have.

The tension in the air is palpable, the realization of what he’s saying slowly settling in on him. “Right?” he asks again. You can’t bring yourself to look at either one of them, your gaze remaining locked on the ground.

“No. I don’t Trevor. You are my boyfriend. Jake is…just a friend…from back home. I'm here with you.” you answer, feeling your own heart break as the words pierce through Jake, too. 

He stands there, his face expressionless as your words sink in. He’s frozen, staring down at you, but your head is still glued to the ground and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

Trevor lets out a breath, “We’ll just have to agree to disagree then. All I’m saying is the way you were looking at him just now, and the way he was looking at you…there’s something between you two that isn’t just a regular thing, and I see it.”

“No man, she's right. We are just friends. Nothing more. Never have been, never will be. Isn’t that right, Pops.” Jake says, and you can feel the venom in his words. 

You dare glance up at him, but the moment your eyes meet you regret it. His face looks like stone, the light in his eyes now replaced with a dark, dull anger. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen Jake like this, his gaze locked on yours, staring you down.

“Right, Pops? We’re just friends,” he repeats, but his voice lacks the comfort of the countless times he’s said those words before to you. There’s no reassurance in there this time, no hint of a smile. This is not the Jake you know. The Jake that you love.

“Right,” you breathe, wishing more than anything you could just disappear into thin air. 

He holds your gaze for just a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you, waiting for something more from you, but you just can’t say it, your voice having abandoned you.

“Okay, great, well uh– thanks for coming out. See ya ‘round, Pops.” You watch as he nods his head toward you dismissively, turning and disappearing into the crowd.

The feeling of him walking away from you, the anger in his face and in his words, it’s leaving you with an unbearable emptiness feeling in your chest. Your head is swimming with everything that has just transpired. You’re unable to move, but Trevor breaks you out of your trance with a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Part of you wants to stay, to leave Trevor and find Jake and make things right, but you know you can't. It's too late. The damage is done. You let him lead you out, your head down as you stumble out of the venue. The night sky is cold and black, the weight of the moment still fresh. You let Trevor lead you away from the venue. Away from Jake. 

You make the trip back to your dorm in silence, both of you just wanting to forget about the whole thing and curl up in bed and sleep. He doesn’t try to talk, but you can feel his tense energy radiating off of him next to you, and you aren’t totally sure if he’s angry with you or just the situation in general.

As you slide into your bed, your mind is still replaying the moments back in the venue. Jake’s face as you denied having any feelings for him. The way he used a nickname that once was special between you two and somehow made it sound so cold. The way he didn’t argue when you denied your feelings to Trevor. And the worst part of all, your inability to correct him.

The sheets feel heavy on top of your body, and you’ve never felt more lonely. The person who knows you best is a couple miles away from you, and at the same time he’s never felt more distant. You want to try and sleep, hoping the morning can bring you some reprieve but you instead end up staring at the ceiling and letting the tears quietly fall.

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

November 10, 2016

“Miss Y/N?” the dorm attendant calls out as you walk through the entry doors.

“Yes?” you answer, stopping at the desk with a smile. 

“You had a delivery come this morning,” she smiles, “a big beautiful one.”

“Me?” you ask, not expecting any deliveries. 

“Yes, stay right here and I will get it,” she says, scampering off to the back office to retrieve your package.

However, when she steps out your heart nearly drops. It’s not a package at all. It's a giant bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers. Your eyes instantly begin to fill with tears, and a familiar ache in your heart flares up. Poppies, at least two dozen of them in a bright pink vase. They are all blooming and vibrant and you don’t even need to read the card to know who they are from. 

You accept them from her with thanks, and rush back to your dorm room as fast as you can. The tears are beginning to stream  from the corners of your eyes as you kick the door shut behind you. You place the flowers on your desk, and with shaky hands you pull the tiny red card from the holder. 

The outside of the envelope reads ‘Happy Birthday’ in bold handwriting. You look at the envelope one more time before ripping open the seal and pulling the card out. The front of the card has a handwritten message. ‘Have a great birthday, Pops.’

There’s no signature, but you know who it’s from. You open the card and find the inside blank, except for one simple phrase written in the middle.

‘Still us, right?’

You feel like your heart has exploded in your chest, the tears falling faster now. You feel a knot in the pit of your stomach as you read those words again and again, your brain unable to wrap your head fully around what they mean. You know what he’s really asking, and the feeling of shame and guilt over the way that you left things is even stronger now.

“What did I do?” you whisper to yourself. You never wanted to hurt him, that was never your intention. You let your head sink, your eyes landing on the beautiful multicolored flowers on the desk. You let the tears continue to fall, the guilt and helplessness washing over you in a fresh wave. You let your head fall into your hands, trying to will yourself to do something, anything, but the feeling of despair and the memory of how Jake’s face looked that night in the venue is like a heavy weight on top of you.

Should you call him? Text him?

You look around your dorm, as if a sign would pop up and tell you exactly what to do. You turn and look at your phone, your hands shaking as you reach out toward it. You think about calling him, you think about texting, but what would you say?

You want to say how sorry you are, how much you’ve missed him, and how much better everything would be if you could both go back and do that night over again...but what good is saying those things now? It’s too late for regret, no matter how badly you want to go back and change the last few months.

You pick up the phone, your fingers shaking slightly as you dial his number. The phone rings for a few seconds until you hear his voice on the other line. “Poppy?”

“Jake,” you reply. 

“Hey,” his voice responds, a little bit of surprise and relief in it. He hesitates before continuing, “Guessing you got the flowers?”

“I did. Jake, they are so beautiful. I love them.” you answer. There’s an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, the elephant in the room growing larger by the second.

“Yeah, I’m really glad you like them,” he replies, his voice sounding less surprised and a little bit of normalcy starting to return to the conversation. He lets another pause linger between the two of you, the silence feeling strange after all the time you’ve gone without speaking to each other. Then he speaks again. “I wasn’t sure you were going to call.”

“I wasn’t sure you would answer,” you say sheepishly.

He lets out a gentle chuckle, the sound of his laugh somehow still warming your heart. “Yeah, to be honest I was a little hesitant to answer. But I’m glad you called.” he says quietly.

“I um– I got your…note.” you breathe. 

A pause fills the line before he speaks again, this time quieter. “Yeah, it’s just been kind of heavy having the distance between us lately. I just… needed you to know that the way things ended last time we saw each other, I never meant to…” he trails off, suddenly unsure of the proper words to say.

“Jake, I-” you start, but he interrupts you.

“No, you don’t have to say anything,” he says, a sense of urgency in his voice. “Please don’t feel bad, okay? I just needed you to know that we’re still…” he fades off again, that familiar feeling of helplessness filling the air. He takes a moment before continuing, “You’re still my best friend and you always will be. I don’t want us to lose that. I don’t want to lose you any more. You’re my girl, Pops. Always will be.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Jake,” you confess, your voice cracking with pain. 

“I know.” he replies, letting out a sigh, “And I understand.” Another moment passes between the two of you before he speaks again. “Listen, I’ve got to go, we are going on soon and Josh is breathing down my neck, but I’m glad you called. It means a lot to hear your voice. Let’s try and…I don’t know, talk more?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry to keep you, I just…” you pause, “Have a good show, Jake... a-and thank you for the flowers.”

“Of course, anything for my girl,” he answers, “and Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you…” you trail off. 

“Call soon?” he asks, the volume in the background starting to grow louder.

“I’d like that,” you breathe, feeling the distance from him even more than before. 

“Good. Okay, well have a good night, P.” he says softly, and right before you think he’s hung up you hear him whisper, “It’s still us, Poppy.”

“Still us,” you confirm, the call ending as the words leave your lips. 

January 4, 2017

Jake 8:12 AM: Just signed the contract for a headlining world tour. I can’t believe it, Pops.

You 7:58 PM: I’m so proud of you Jake

March 28, 2017

Jake 11:04 PM: Just walked past a street vendor selling red poppies. Apparently they are a big thing here. Thought of you. Miss you. 

You 11:24 PM: I miss you too. Where are you at these days?

Jake 11:30 PM: In Paris right now, England tomorrow, then Scotland. It’s beautiful here. 

You 11:32 PM: I can only imagine.

Jake 11:33 PM: One day, Pops.

June 7, 2017

You 12:25 PM: Did I just see that you guys are playing Lollapalooza?! Jake!

Jake 1:49 PM: You did, can you believe it? 

You 1:50 PM: We used to daydream about that

Jake 1:56 PM: No more dreaming. Can I save you an Artist wristband?

You 1:58 PM: You’d do that for me?

Jake 2:00 PM: Of course poppy, you’re my girl. 

August 3, 2017

Jake 8:09 AM: P, it’s show day and I haven't heard from you. You still coming? Your wristband is at will call.

You 10:23 AM: Jake, I am so so so sorry. I can’t find anyone to cover my shift tonight at work. I’ve been trying for weeks. I hate to miss this. I am so sorry. :(

Jake 10:40 AM: Ahh, it’s alright P,  there will be more. I’ll catch you at the next one. 

You 10:45 AM: I won’t miss the next one. I swear. 

Jake 10:46 AM: I’m holding you to it. Call soon. 

November 10, 2017

You 2:21 PM: Thank you for the poppies Jake. They are even more beautiful than last years bouquet. Miss you so much. 

Jake 3:04 PM: Anything for you, Y/N. Happy Birthday. 

February 18, 2018

Jake 7:34 PM:  *Open in Spotify*  - Bad Company - Call On Me

You 7:45 PM: I remember listening to this album in your car non stop senior year lol

Jake 7:48 PM: Still one of the very best. I always think of you when I hear that one though. 

You 7:50 PM: Even if I called on you I don’t think you could get here very quickly. Last I saw on Instagram you guys were in Belgium. 

Jake 7:54 PM: We are, but all you need to do is say the word, Pops. 

You 8:00 PM: Miss you. 

Jake 8:01 PM: Miss you more. 

April 4, 2019

Jake 7:48 PM: My mom said she got your graduation invitation in the mail today. So proud of you Y/N. 

You 8:21 PM: It feels like it went by so fast. I can’t believe it’s over. I actually just received my acceptance letter from the University of Michigan today. I’m officially going to Law School. 

Jake 8:30 PM: You continue to amaze me Poppy. I’m glad we both get to live our dreams. 

You 8:32 PM: ❤️

University of Michigan Law School - Ann Arbor, Michigan

August 12, 2019

You 7:52 AM: I’m freaking out, what if I can’t do this Jake

Jake 8:00 AM: what?

You 8:01 AM: It’s my first day of classes at UofM

Jake 8:02 AM: Do you think I wasn’t petrified the first time I stepped onto a real stage? I know you can do this P. If I can do that, you can do this. You can do anything. 

You 8:03 AM: Thanks Jake

Jake 8:05 AM: Call me later and let me know how it went. We are on break for the next week so I’m free whenever. 

November 10, 2019

You 3:47 PM:  Jake! You’re so sweet. Gorgeous flowers, but I have to know how you got my new address?  

Jake 3:50 PM: Don’t worry about that, I have my ways. Happy Birthday my girl. I’ll call soon. 

University of Michigan Law School - Ann Arbor, Michigan

May 18, 2020

You can faintly hear a persistent buzzing, the sound pulling you from your sleep. You realize it’s your phone buzzing away on your nightstand with an incoming call. You roll over, reaching for it in the darkness of the room, noticing the time on your alarm clock says 2:47 AM. You wipe the sleep from your eyes as they adjust to the harsh light of your phone, but that's not what really wakes you. It’s the name on the screen that has you sitting up straight in your bed. 

“Jake?” you breathe, sliding your thumb against the glass. “Hello?” you answer groggily. 

“Poppy…” he replies, his voice deep and gravely. 

“Jake, what's wrong, is everything okay? It's like 2:30 in the morning?” you rush out, your heart starting to pound. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, baby doll,” he answers, “I just…I needed to hear your voice.”

You can hear the slurring in his words and you know he's had too much to drink. That, and he hasn’t called you that pet name in years, “What’s going on, Jake? You don’t sound okay.”

He’s silent for a moment, seemingly gathering the right words to say, “‘M fine, Pops. It’s just been a bad day. Hell, it’s been a bad week. A bad month. Everything is fucking exploding in our faces.”

“What do you mean?” you ask nervously, clutching your sheets in your fist.

He lets out a deep sigh, “God, everythings just falling apart. With the album, with tour–” he cuts himself off. There’s another pause before he speaks again. “It’s just all such a mess and I miss you, Pops. I miss you so damn much. I don’t know if I can do all of this.”

“What? What do you mean? Is it because of all this Covid stuff?” you ask.

“That, and so many other things. We had all these plans to release the new album and tour and then everything came to a screeching halt. We’re essentially in lockdown now, and I don't know when we will start up again. I can’t just sit, Pops, you know that. I just can’t,” he sighs heavily. “But it’s not just that,” he pauses for a moment, his words becoming a little more slurred, “There’s a million things, and I know I sound so whiny, but–”

“No, go ahead, get it all out. Tell me. I'm here. I'm listening.”

“I don't even know how to put it all into words. There’s just so much. The pressure, the uncertainty, the loneliness of it all, the shit with the label, my parents calling all the time asking what's going on, Josh bitching everytime something doesn’t go his way. Nothing is going right,” he pauses, “and you're not here.”

“I know. I know I'm not, but I think I understand a little bit at least. All my classes are virtual right now, finals and everything. It’s not how I ever imagined Law School going.  I don't think I have left my apartment in weeks. I haven’t talked to a real person in a while. It's scary and everything is uncertain right now. I get it Jake. I do, and I miss you. I miss you so much.” you answer.

“Yeah, exactly,” he sighs, “I just feel like– everything is going wrong and falling apart and I don’t know how to stop it. I just want…I want you,” he pauses, “I want you here. Things would be better if you were here. You would know what to do.”

“Well, where are you? Are you…at home or–”

“I’m locked in this fucking house in Nashville. Feel like a fuckin’ prisoner. All I can do is play guitar and write and drink,  and– I just need out.” he groans. 

“Nashville...You–You live in Nashville now? In a house? I had no idea you guys left Michigan.”  you say a little despondently.

“See, this is exactly what I mean. I want you to know these things. You deserve to know. I– I should’ve called. But, yeah, we got a place last year. Me and Josh. It made sense with us starting to record and touring, being centrally located and all that. But it’s not my permanent home. This is not what I want.” he adds hastily.

“Yeah, I understand, that makes sense, I just didn't know,” you pause, “I wish- I mean, how far are you from Ann Arbor? You know you can always come visit for a while. I’ll be busy with school work but at least we could…” you trail off. 

“I’d say maybe…six hours, give or take,” he answers, and his mind starts to wander a little. “I wish I could just hop in the car and come to you. I miss your face. Just you, in general,” he says, the drunken honesty coming through. “But the label has us on fucking lockdown. Can’t leave the city even if we wanted to.”

“Oh. Okay. I understand.” you answer, pain coloring your tone. 

He picks up on your change in tone, his voice growing a bit more sober, “Shit, no, P. I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t want you to feel like I wouldn’t just drop everything and come to you right now, you gotta believe me. I wish I could. I’d  leave now and be there by morning.”

“No, Jake it’s fine, I get it. I was just daydreaming.” you answer, swallowing thickly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything. I feel like everything has just been too much and I just wanted to hear your voice. But I shouldn’t have called you like this, I know you’ve got a lot of stuff going on with school right now. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my bullshit.” he says, his voice sounding just as pained as yours. 

“Never apologize for that Jake. That’s what I’m here for. I want to know, and I know you would do the same for me if the roles were reversed.”

“I’d do anything for you, Y/N. You know that I would,” he responds, his words almost a whisper now. You can still hear the buzz of alcohol in his voice, but now it’s only a slight slur instead of drunken rambling. “You were always my person. My safe place.”

“And you’re mine,” you whisper. 

You can hear him sigh heavily on the other line, and the two of you let a comfortable silence fall over the line. You’re both lost in your thoughts, just content to hear the other breathe. He finally breaks the silence, his voice quiet and hoarse, “When I get out of this hell hole, I’m coming to find you. I need to see you again. It can’t be another year without you.”

“You know where to find me,” you grin. 

“Yeah, I do,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, just listening to you breathe. “I should let you get some sleep. You got school and work and… life to deal with tomorrow, huh?”

“Sadly, yes. But, I– enjoyed this. I’ve missed your voice. It’s nice to lay here with my eyes closed and pretend like it's old times.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, “This was good. I feel better now, I really do. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. We’ve got a lot to catch up on…and I’m sorry I had to be drunk to find the balls to call you.” he giggles. “Can I call you again sometime soon? Preferably when I’m a little more sober?”

“Please do,” you answer with a laugh. 

He laughs softly along with you, the sound of his laugh is familiar yet different after all this time, “Okay, I’ll call you soon then. I promise. Goodnight, my  Pops.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

Detroit, Michigan

March 13, 2022

 

“And send,” you whisper to yourself, finally leaning back in your office chair as the email flies into the ether. You let out a deep exhale, checking the time. Only one more hour before you leave for the day. You take in your surroundings, seeing your colleagues still busy and working away on case files and reports. It wasn’t easy landing this job and it has been taxing to say the least, but in a few years you would be up for partner and you would do anything to make your dream a reality. Today though, you were leaving a little earlier than usual. You had plans tonight, plans you weren’t one hundred percent sure you should follow through with, but it had been years after all, and part of you is dying to see him. Jake. 

You’d been following along with the band's success for years now, watching them grow to crazy levels of fame in such a short amount of time. You think back to the night Jake called you, so worried about the new album, and now it was their most successful release to date. It truly was incredible and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see them play it live. And tonight, you would. 

When you saw that they had plans to play in Saginaw you knew you had to make the drive. You requested the time off and now today was the day. Your heart has been in your throat all day waiting for it to drop to your stomach the moment you see him on stage tonight. It only took a few messages with Karen to find out that you had standing tickets waiting for you. Stating that ‘Jake wouldn’t have it any other way’. You could tell she missed him, missed all her boys actually, and you knew the pain all too well.

You knew he would look different, from the pictures you’d seen you could tell his hair was longer, and his boyish figure was now that of a man. But he wasn't the only one, all of the guys' looks had changed dramatically, and part of you felt like you hardly knew them anymore. You had no plans of telling Jake that you would be there tonight, you wanted to see him play a good show without the burden of knowing you were out in the crowd watching. You have your outfit picked out and waiting for you on your bed, knowing you only had a few quick minutes to change and get on the road when you clocked out at the office for the day. Now, all there was left to do was wait. 

The traffic couldn’t have been worse. The freeway was congested with an accident and roadwork, and as your hands gripped the steering wheel  you began to feel nervous that you might not make it in time. You pushed away the nervous feeling, turning up the volume of the music playing through your car speakers. You’d done your research, listening to the new album a hundred times over, and tonight you’d put that knowledge to the test as you tried your best to sing along with every song they would play. As you sang along now, you let go of your stress and relaxed into the music, watching as miraculously the road cleared in front of you and you continued on your way to Saginaw. 

With your ticket in hand you searched for your seat in the crowd, finding yourself surrounded by familiar faces. Faces you hadn’t seen since you left home. It felt like a big reunion in section 102, and you couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off of your face if you tried. When you finally found your seat you looked up to see Karen sitting a seat away, turning to face you as you sat down next to her. 

“Oh honey, you made it,” she cooed, pulling you in for a hug. 

“Yeah, yeah I did! Got stuck in some terrible traffic leaving Detroit, I didn’t know if I was going to make it on time.” you answer, waving hello to a few other friendly faces around you. 

“I am so glad you’re here, I haven’t seen you in years! You really should come home and see everyone soon. We all miss you!” she says, with a soft smile, “I’m glad he sat you with us. Right where you should be.”

You give her a confused look and she laughs. 

“Look around, you’re in the family section,” she pauses, and suddenly you realize shes right. “I can’t wait to see them play tonight, it’s been a year or so.”

“Well I guess I should confess that I haven't seen them since their first little tour. I think they were openers. It was back in college.”

“Oh well, you’re in for a surprise then. They are just fantastic now, they’ve really stepped it up since then. Oh, Jake is going to be so happy to see you.” she gushes. 

“I actually didn’t tell him I was coming,” you pause, “we haven’t talked in a little while. He’s been busy touring and I’m working at a firm now. Life hasn’t been the best to our friendship.” you confess. 

“Oh honey I hate to hear that. You’ll have to come with me after the show to see everybody. I’m sure they would all love to say hello.” she offers. 

“Like backstage? I don’t know. Maybe. I–”

“No excuses, we’re going.” she smiles, just as the lights dim and music begins to play through the arena. 

Your heart is positively thumping in your chest as you hear what you believe to be Josh’s voice as he talks over a piece of music. You feel your insides grow warm as he talks, your eyes filling with tears as you listen to the beautiful words he's crafted. The crowd explodes in cheers full of anticipation as the arena goes black and the curtain covering the stage begins to flash with red lights. 

You’re scared of what you will see when the curtain drops. Scared of the changes you’ll see in their faces, the changes you’ll notice in their playing, but mostly you’re scared that he may not recognize you if he does see you, because that would crush you. 

Suddenly the curtain falls down to the ground as loud music begins to fill the arena. Your eyes are immediately on Jake, his long dark hair and his two piece suit. He looks so amazing you feel like you could fall to your knees right here in the stands. But then, he spots you, and for that few seconds it’s just the two of you there in that arena. 

 A wave of shock sets in as soon as his eyes land on you. For a brief moment you can hardly believe that it’s real, that you’re  seeing him  in person and not just in the memories that haunt you during the dark hours of night. But there he is, living his dream right in front of your very eyes. 

He stands in front of the crowd, guitar in hand. The bright spotlight is so white it almost hurts your eyes, but once your vision adjusts you’re struck by the sight of him. He’s slightly sweaty and disheveled, his jacket open  and hair already sweaty and messy. He’s never looked more handsome than he does standing on that stage. He stands still for a moment, the shock of seeing you here has shaken him to the core, that is obvious to you. But he quickly shakes it off, and continues with the show, playing for the crowd that is screaming his name.

By the third song you are having to pick your jaw up off the floor. The way he is working the crowd is a vast difference from the last time you watched him play, still shy and unsure of himself on stage. He’s got a presence to him now, a confidence that you don’t remember seeing when you first watched him play years before. It shows in the way he moves on the stage, in the way he plays to the crowd, and in the way he works the guitar like it’s an extension of himself. He plays his heart out for the next hour, his movements smooth and precise. Jake is in his element just like he always knew he would be. 

The encore is upon you, and you can’t wait for him to be back on stage. Finally, he bounds up to the stage again, his energy and excitement at an all time high. You can tell he’s having the time of his life, the lights and cheers making him feel like he could fly. Josh is right behind him, grabbing the microphone and beginning to speak. “Thank you all for an incredible night,” he yells to the crowd, “But we’re not done yet. How about another one?” The room fills with loud cheers again. Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest as Jake turns his body to look at you, pointing his guitar in your direction as he acknowledges you. Your cheeks are on fire as he sends you a smile, Karen grabbing your arm as she watches the interaction. 

“Told you he’d be happy to see you,” she shouts over the music. 

You feel overwhelmed with emotion and excitement; not just by the fact that he spotted you in this giant crowd, but also by the fact that he is so clearly expressing a level of happiness because you’re here right now. The connection you feel to him is unlike anything you’ve felt in a long time.

He finishes the show with his heart on his sleeve. It ends on an incredibly high note, and he takes one last bow to the crowd as they start to leave. He starts walking off the stage, Josh in tow and you realize that now, you will go backstage with Karen and you’ll  have to face him. 

“Alright honey, you up for saying hello?” she asks, both of you making your way out of the aisle and towards the floor. 

Your body is shaking with nerves as you answer her, “Yeah, I should. It’s been too long.”

You and Karen make your way to the back where the band is waiting, still a little winded from the show. A few roadies are already packing up the stage equipment, and the crew is helping to dismantle the set. There is so much going on behind the scenes that you had no clue about. So many moving parts and pieces. 

Karen ushers you back towards the dressing rooms, each of the guys having their own space to dress and prepare. When did they get so fancy?

“Okay, Jake should be right through there, I’m going to go find Josh. Come find me if you need anything.” she says, leaving you at his dressing room door. 

Your hands are shaking, you’re unsure if you’ll even be able to raise your hand to knock. You smooth out your skirt and take a deep breath, fixing your hair a little as you try to calm your nerves. It’s Jake. It’s just Jake. 

Finally getting over the shock and nervousness, you knock softly on the door. You hear shuffling behind the door and your heart starts to pound in your ears. You hear him call out through the door, “Just a minute.”

Your heart jumps into your throat as you hear his voice through the door. It sounds like he’s just getting out of the shower, and with a towel wrapped around his waist he opens the door. The shock on his face is undeniable as he sees you standing there. He was expecting anything but you. “Pops,” he whispers, saying your name as if he were trying to convince himself that you were real.

“H-hi Jake,” you stammer, your nerves making themselves known. 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at you in disbelief. He’s still dripping wet from the shower, beads of water running down his bare chest. His face relaxes and a familiar softness sets in, a soft smile crossing his face. “You’re really here.” His gaze roams over your body, drinking in every inch.  

“Yeah, I'm here. You were–you were so amazing, I–”

It’s as if the sound of your voice brings a wave of peace over him, and before you know it he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his body still damp from the shower. He pulls you against him, your body pressed to his bare chest. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and you can feel his breath on  your skin as he holds you. “I’m so fucking happy to see you,” he murmurs. 

You hug him back, feeling all the guilt and nerves melt away from you, in a way that only he can manage. You can feel the water starting to seep through your clothes, and you pull away, looking between you with a smile. “You're wet, and naked,” you laugh. 

He blushes at your words, suddenly remembering that he’s still just wrapped in a towel. “Shit,” he says, feeling an unusual shyness that he usually doesn’t feel around you. He steps back to the side of the door, holding it open for you to enter as he gives you a nervous smile. “Come in, just give me a sec and I'll change.”

“I can wait out here if you want, I know that we–”

“No, come in Pops. Please,” he says firmly, the towel still wrapped around him. It’s still hard to take your eyes off of his bare chest, but you walk into the room, trying to keep your focus on anything but him, not wanting to stare too long. 

You watch as he saunters across the room, his long brown hair down to the middle of his back now, and dripping with water. You swallow harshly as your eyes travel over the curve of his ass in the towel, but you pull your eyes away before he turns around. He grabs a bag and slips into the bathroom, pushing the door shut behind him. You can hear a nasty cough come from behind the door and you furrow your brows. Is he sick?

You stand there by the couch, suddenly noticing the small bottle of cough syrup sitting at the edge of the side table. A few moments later, he emerges from the bathroom, dressed in worn jeans and a clean white t-shirt. He sits down on the couch and he lets out another few coughs, trying to clear his throat as he looks up at you. “Sit down,” he says, gesturing towards the spot next to him on the couch. 

You take a seat next to him, and let out a soft breath. “Are you feeling okay?” you ask. 

The cough is still in his throat, but he nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just have this damn cough that I can’t seem to shake.” He looks you up and down, finally being able to observe you as closely as he wants to since you showed up at the venue. “You look great,” he says, a warm smile on his lips. 

You blush at his words, your eyes meeting his. The one thing about him that’s stayed the same over the years. “Thank you,” you say shyly. 

His smile turns into a grin, the same boyish smile that you’ve always loved. “Of course.” He lets his gaze linger on your face, drinking you in as if he’s trying to memorize every little detail. He’s unable to keep his hands to himself, and before you know it he’s reached towards you. His fingers wrap around your wrist, and he gently pulls your arm towards him.

The feeling of his skin against yours causes the dam to break, “Jake, I–”

He doesn’t let go as he lets both of your hands rest in his lap. That same electricity that used to pass between you is there, and you can tell that the connection you’ve always had is as strong as ever despite the distance. He speaks softly, knowing how heavy the air between you two is. “I know.”

“No, please I–” you start, but you’re quickly cut off as the dressing room door flies open and a blonde woman, around the same age as you steps inside. 

The sudden intrusion is like a bucket of ice water, and you pull your hands away from him as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong. He looks back at you, his expression soft and apologetic before he looks up at the new presence in the room. You look over at Jake, expecting to see some kind of reaction from him, but he actually just looks mildly annoyed.

“Hey, Viv,” he answers, turning his body to face her. She looks between the two of you, an expression on her face you can’t quite decipher.

She gives him a small smile, and she doesn’t even glance in your direction as she walks into the room. You try to stay as small as possible, as if trying not to be seen. She crosses her arms as she stands on the other side of the room. “How did the show go?” she asks, her voice is casual and unbothered. You suddenly feel like you shouldn’t be here. 

“Was fine, got a little winded and lightheaded by encore,” he answers and she nods her head. 

“Well, the crowd was big tonight and it got hot, plus all the lights. That'd make anybody winded,” she says, still keeping her focus on him. You sit there, feeling slightly uncomfortable, wondering why she seems so comfortable in his space. She starts to dig around in the bag on her shoulder and you turn to look at Jake. 

The whole situation feels weird, and you don't understand why she is just standing there, going through her purse, while you and Jake sit there. His eyes flick over to you and you can see slight annoyance in them as he looks back at her.

Then it hits you like a ton of bricks. She’s not just some stranger. She’s here with Jake. For Jake. Oh god how could you be so stupid. Of course he’s seeing someone. You quickly shoot up, grabbing your bag and tossing it over your shoulder as quickly as you can, feeling so stupid to think tonight would be the night you’d work things out. She’s waiting for you to leave. 

Jake’s eyes go wide as he sees what you’re doing, “Wait, no, Pops, where are you going?” He stands up from the couch, reaching his hand out to grab your arm but you pull away from him.

“I’m sorry– I didn’t know. I– You were amazing tonight, I’m sorry I–I didn’t know you— I’ll go–” you stammer, making your way to the door.  

Jake practically lunges across the room, reaching the door at the same time you do. He turns you around to face him, the panic in his eyes apparent. “No, don’t go, let me explain–”

“No, no, you don’t have to. I understand. I shouldn’t have come back here. I don’t belong back here. I’m sorry,” you mumble pushing your way through the heavy wooden door.

“Poppy!” you hear him shout, his voice echoing through the busy hallway as you search for the nearest exit. You don’t turn around. You refuse to look back and let him see you like this. Your heart is absolutely more crushed than it ever has been, but you should have expected it. He is a rockstar and you’re…just Y/N.

He moved on, he found someone else to confide in. Someone that matches him. Someone else to trust with his secrets. Someone else to think of day and night, and finally you understand how he felt that night so long ago. Replaced. 

You hear his voice fade as you walk out of the venue, leaving your heart behind you in a single, devastating moment. The warm night is replaced by a cold breeze as you step out, the tears falling down your face as you realize the past was just that. The past.

Frankenmuth, Michigan

December 31, 2022

The air is frigid outside, you’re sure this is the coldest winter you’ve ever experienced, even growing up here. There aren’t enough layers in the world, let alone in your suitcase. Thankfully in just two days you will be back home in Detroit where it's not too much warmer, but definitely not as cold as Frankenmuth. You’ve been home for the last two weeks visiting your parents, not seeing them nearly enough since you started at the law firm after graduation. It’s been nice to be home, but something about it feels different now. You are riddled with nostalgia and the memories seem to come back with a vengeance the longer you’re here. Memories you have all but pushed away lately, not letting them into your heart as you once did. Currently you and your parents are sitting in front of the fireplace sipping on wine as you watch the Rockin’ New Year’s Eve special on TV. The wine is warming you up a bit, but not nearly enough. 

You’ve now brushed off dozens of invites from co-workers and even some old friends who are out on the town tonight, celebrating ringing in the new year. You know you should go, but something is telling you not to. Even your parents asked why you’re spending the evening at home instead of seeing old friends. You wish you had a good answer for them, but you don't.

“You really should go, honey,” your mom continues, finishing off her glass of red. “You’re only young once.”

“I know, but I just…I feel so disconnected from this place. I haven’t talked to these people since highschool,” you pause, “I just feel like I’m better off here.”

“I agree with your mother, hon,” your dad adds, “It will be good for you to get out. All you do is work these days. You deserve a night off.”

You let their words sink in as you look at your phone, seeing the ignored text from your old friend Isabelle begging you to meet her at Tiffany’s for a drink. Honestly, the thought of stepping into that bar again rattles you. 

“Just one drink hon, ring in the new year,” your dad says, sending you an encouraging wink. 

You look at her text again and let out a sigh, “Alright, fine. Maybe you’re right. It would be okay to let loose just a little. Tonight of all nights.”

“Thatta girl,” he says, nodding his head. 

With the decision made you text Isabelle back, letting her know you will meet her there in thirty as you rush upstairs to change into something that isn't sweatpants and a hoodie.

 It’s an eerie feeling walking into this bar, a place you used to frequent so often, so long ago. It’s been years since you've been back but it's exactly the same as you left it. The dining patrons are long gone, making way for the locals that use the bartop as their own personal therapy space, but tonight it’s a little different. It’s New Year's Eve and the bar is filled with unfamiliar faces. Of course, there are a few you recognize from high school, that much you expected. The air in the bar is much warmer than the air outside, thanks to the large group of people filling the small space. The lights are dim and music is playing from the old jukebox in the corner. The floor is already sticky from spilled drinks, and the air smells faintly of cigarettes. 

“I’m gonna grab a drink, what do you want?” Isabelle asks, snaking her way through a group of people. 

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” you answer, knowing it doesn't really matter. 

She disappears into the crowd and you look around in search of a table you can ditch your jacket at. Most are taken, but you spot one in a corner with no occupants. You walk briskly towards it, throwing your jacket down onto the inevitably sticky table top as you sit and wait for Isabelle. You let your eyes wander through the bar picking out familiar faces, and even taking in some new ones, but you can’t seem to shake the feeling of uneasiness you’ve had since you walked through the door. Something is different, you just don’t know what. 

A few minutes later a drink is placed in front of you that looks to be a whiskey and coke, and you secretly cheer that it's not something overly sweet. 

“Made them a double cause the lines’ a bitch,” she says, taking her first gulp.

“Good call,” you smile, taking your own sip and letting the bubbles burn the back of your throat. Maybe your dad was right. You did need this. You and Isabelle sit and talk for a little while, letting the alcohol seep into your system and cast away your cares. But then you hear something. Something you haven’t heard in a long time. A song from long ago that has made a permanent home in your memories. 

Through the crappy speakers you hear the opening notes to “Good Lovin’ Gone Bad” by Bad Company. You smile to yourself, thinking back on just how many times Jake played that album that summer. You both had practically every single lyric memorized by the time you left for college. A pang shoots through your chest as you picture him in your mind, and your mood suddenly sours. 

“Hey, I’m gonna hit the bathroom real quick,” you pause, “Save our table?”

“Duh, see you in a few,” she says, taking another gulp of her drink. 

You begin to make your way to the bathroom, needing a minute to yourself to freshen up and get Jake out of your head. You finally make your way to the opposite side of the bar, the bathrooms in your sight. But much to your surprise, something else oddly familiar catches your eye and your heart lurches up to your throat. No. It can’t be. 

His back is towards you, but you would recognize his shoulders and hair anywhere. You spot him with a group of guys, all drinking and having a good time. A wave of nostalgia hits hard, remembering how things were back in the day before you both went your separate ways and he shot to stardom. The way you could walk up to him without second guessing it. Now you’re not so sure you can. 

You try to turn around and walk away, knowing it's best to just go, but something has you frozen to the floor. You can see the way he holds the crowd at the bar, telling stories and cracking jokes in the same way he did at parties back in high school. He's a star in every sense of the word, but when the laughter fades for a second, you can almost see the sadness underneath it all. 

He doesn’t notice you, at least you think he doesn’t, as you push forward and rush into the bathroom. Your heart is pumping harder than it has in months and you feel like you might be sick. There is no way you are going to be able to get out of this bar without talking to him, so you decide you need to pull it together and pretend like he isn’t even here. 

You fix your make up, and smooth down your hair, taking a good long look in the mirror. You’ve got this. It’s just Jake. You take a few deep breaths and square your shoulders, preparing to face him and any uncomfortable conversation that may follow. You open the door and walk out into the bar, looking around as you do. You don't see him at the bar he was at before and for a split second your brain doesn't register that fact at all, but as you make your way out to the dance floor you look a few tables over and realize he is standing there, with his hands in his pockets watching you with the same intensity you’ve always seen from him.  

He looks so handsome and he doesn’t even know it. His long brown hair hanging over his shoulders, his corduroy shirt hanging open and messy over his t-shirt. He is exactly the Jake you’ve always known. The Jake you always wanted. There’s a mustache, too, you notice. The accent of hair, complimenting his upper lip in a way that has your entire chest heating. It’s the perfect touch to his pretty face, adding a masculine touch that you hadn’t known was necessary for his overall aura until this moment. 

Because god did he look impossibly more alluring with that addition. 

You know it’s only a matter of time before you two speak, and you have no idea what he is thinking. But for once, Jake doesn’t hide his feelings from you, his eyes are glued to you, refusing to look away. Willing you to come to him, and your body listens. 

You walk towards him, each step feeling heavier than the last, as if you're walking through quicksand. Your eyes stay locked on his face despite the nervousness running through your veins, and you can feel the electricity pouring off of him. He looks like he wants to say something, but he just stares at you. You can feel the memories of you together crashing through your head like a wave. You get closer and closer, the world around you fading away, until you’re standing right in front of him.

“It was you, wasn’t it. The song,” you ask, putting the pieces together immediately. “You knew I was here. You knew I would recognize it.”

His jaw clenches in response, and he lets a sad smile touch his lips before he says anything. “Yeah, it was. I saw you walk in. I knew it’d work,” he replies, the familiar rasp in his voice is softer than you remember, but still as deep and soothing as ever.

“Guess you were right,”  you smirk, watching as his body language starts to soften.

He lets a soft chuckle escape, and he relaxes a little bit. You can see the tension melting away from his shoulders. “Some things never change, huh?” he says, his eyes roaming over your face and body briefly, taking in every detail he can. 

“I didn’t know you were home,” you confess.

“I didn’t know you were home.” he says gently, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He looks down for a moment, as if he’s trying to find the right words. “I should’ve told you.”

You nod your head, “I could’ve called you too,” you pause, biting your lip, “It’s just ever since that night–”

“That night was not what you think. I wish you would’ve let me explain, Pops.” he urges, his hand reaching out to rest on your arm. 

“It's- It's the past now Jake, you don't owe me anything,” you answer, the nickname searing a sore spot in your heart. 

“Bullshit,” he snaps. “You know exactly what I owe you. But I’m not going to talk to you about this in a bar, surrounded by all these people,” he drops his hand from your arm, running it through his hair instead. “Come with me, please.”

You look around for Isabelle, but of course she is nowhere to be found, “Okay.”

He leads you out the back door of the bar, into the cool winter air. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and grabs one, placing it between his teeth before lighting it just as quickly. He looks over at you for a moment, watching as you rub your arms to keep warm. “You’re cold,” he observes, noticing the goosebumps on your exposed skin.

“My jacket is inside,” you answer.

He shrugs off his corduroy shirt, draping it over your shoulders, before pulling you in a bit closer to him. The smell of tobacco and his cologne overwhelm your senses as he presses against your side. The heat radiating off of him is warm, and you instinctively bring the shirt closer around you, breathing in the familiar smell of him.

“Listen, Pops,” he pauses, taking another drag of his cigarette, “I’ve wanted to call you a hundred times since that night, explain what you think you saw…” 

It hurts you to know he's thought about it too. “So why didn't you?”

“I was scared,” he admits bluntly, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he does. “You are the last person that I ever wanted to hurt, believe me. But you didn’t even let me get a word in. You left and just…” he sighs. “I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself. Still don’t. I think we are here right now in this shitty ass bar because the universe decided it was time for us to figure this shit out.”

“Maybe it is,” you agree. 

He lets out a long exhale of smoke, his breath visible in the cold air. “You’ve always been smarter than me,” he says, throwing his cigarette to the ground and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know where to start, but I need you to hear me out here.”

“I'm listening,” you answer. 

He paces to the edge of the sidewalk, running a nervous hand through his hair as he tries to compose himself. He takes a deep breath before he speaks again. “I know you think you know what you saw that night, but it wasn’t… That woman, Viv– Vivienne, she is our Tour Medic. Like our travel doctor. A few days before that show…I’d been sick. I didn’t want to admit it then, but I will now. I was sick, too sick. I shouldn’t have been performing. We needed to cancel those shows. I hid it the best I could, and I shouldn’t have and it made it all worse,” he pauses. “That night she came in to check on me after the show. I’d avoided her as long as I could and I think she just knew. She was coming to tell me that she was taking me to the hospital for my cough. She and I both knew it wasn’t normal and my time was up.”

“I– Yeah, I remember…I asked you…”

“I know. I know you did. Even you knew. I was going to tell you… But then, you– I don’t know you just freaked on me, and left. I wanted to explain but I wasn’t ready to admit what was going on.” he pauses, his lips trembling from the cold. “I went to the hospital that night and found out I had pneumonia. Bad. I– I was there for three days. I laid in that hospital bed and replayed you running out over and over again, Poppy. I wanted to call you and tell you but I just couldn’t. I was drained mentally and physically.”

“Jake, oh my god– I– I feel so stupid– I’m so sorry–”

“No, Pops, it’s not your fault. I know how it looked. I was just being too selfish to tell the truth.” he admits. “But now, you know.”

“You were in the hospital, Jake. I had no idea, I–We used to tell each other everything…What if something happened to you and I–” you trail off. 

His body tenses at your words, and his expression morphs into a mixture of guilt and regret. “No, you’re right,” he says, defeated. “I was just…ashamed, I guess, that my body was failing me. It was such a low point…But I shouldn’t have let you walk out like that. I should have chased after you.” He looks back over at you, your face illuminated by the glowing neon bar signs and slowly he brings his hand to cup your cheek. “I can’t believe I let you go.”

Suddenly you hear the inside of the bar erupt with cheering and the loud countdown starting. “It’s almost midnight,” you whisper. 

He looks back at the bar, then back at you, “I guess it is. I didn’t even realize it.” He says, his eyes glued to your face. The countdown gets closer and closer, and you can tell he is nervous. He looks almost afraid as he continues to talk. “I’ve really missed you, Y/N. I’ve thought about you so many times over these past few years, and it feels like no time has passed, but everything has changed,” he pauses, “I wish things could go back to the way it was.”

The world feels so still in this moment, even with all the ruckus inside the bar. “Ten seconds,” you note, eyes glued to his face as his warm hand rests on your cheek. He steps forward, his body so close to yours that you feel as though you’ll become one in this moment. The cold forgotten, his body almost feverish beside you. He runs his thumb across your cheek, his eyes glued to yours as the countdown gets lower and lower.

“Jake,” you whisper, your voice trembling with want. 

He takes another step closer, his body inches apart from yours, and his lips only a breath away from yours “Poppy,” he whispers, his hot, shaky breath caressing your skin as he does. “I need you.”

“Three, two, one…”

Everyone in the bar cheers all around you. He’s so close now, you can hear the sharp inhales that are escaping his lips, and in the moments after the chaos of the New Year erupts, he closes the distance between the two of you. His lips are on yours in seconds, his hand pulling you in, his touch soft and needy.

The kiss is slow, it’s as if time has frozen in this sweet, tender moment. His hands slide into your hair, bringing your face to his, wanting all of you. The kiss is quickly growing desperate and needy. He pushes you against the brick wall of the building, his body pressing into yours, your heart racing as his hand moves from your hair to your waist. He gently lifts your leg pulling it around his waist as this kiss of reunion deepens even more. It’s  filled with emotion and years of wanting, and your body is filled with an overwhelming sense of electricity.

He kisses you with everything he's got. His body craving your touch for so long. He pulls your body against his, wanting to feel every inch of you that he can. He deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth effortlessly, as if he’s memorized every curve, every crevice. You feel your stomach churning with need for him. The need for more.

You bring your hands up to wrap around his shoulders, the kiss getting deeper and more desperate with each passing moment. His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you tighter against his body, as if he can’t stand to have you away from him for even a second. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and he lets out a low moan, his need for you stronger than ever. It’s as if no time has passed at all. Suddenly you’re right back in his basement kissing him for the first time. 

You break the kiss, his name falling from your lips as your eyes open to meet his. “Jake...”

“P-Pops,” he stutters, struggling to find the words through his ragged breaths. “Fuck, I never should’ve let you go. It’s you, it’s always been you.” He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his grip on you just as tight, if not tighter. “You– You just light a fire in me that everyone else seems to put out.”

You let your lips press a soft kiss to the side of his jaw before moving to his ear, “I’ll always be the one with a match to bring you back.”

“Goddamnit, Poppy,” His eyes flutter shut, and you can see that the sensation of your lips on his skin has driven him towards a bliss he hadn't experienced in a long, long time. The way your body fits against his is as natural now as it's ever been. It's as if you were molded to fit in his arms– as if nothing else in the world could ever feel as perfect as this. “I never want to let you go. I'm so goddamn sick of letting you go,” he whispers.

The desire is growing between your legs, and you can feel the evidence of his pressed against your stomach. Instinctively you rub against him, causing a growl to leave his chest. You’re no longer eighteen in the basement. You’re adults who need more. 

He moves his body against yours, a low moan rising from his throat as he does. It’s as if he can feel the fire he’s lit up inside of you, and he’s desperate to fan the flames of the inferno that has always been there. “I’ve missed you so damn much,” he gasps, his hands starting to roam over your body. “Say you feel this. Say you feel it too.”

“I've always felt it Jake. Always.”

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, leaving small kisses, before sinking his teeth in gently. His hands are everywhere, as if he can't decide where he wants to touch first. He presses himself against you, his body flushed with need. “I want you,” he whispers, his words hot against your skin.

“I want you.” you pant, arching your neck to give him more. 

He takes full advantage, his lips and teeth working their way up and down your neck, leaving a trail of marks in their wake. He can feel your need growing, and he responds to it with his own. He presses his body against yours with a primal force, his hand moving  to cup your face, bringing your lips back to his. The kiss is hungry and needy, his tongue slipping into your mouth, searching for what he has been missing as his free hand  finds the waistband of your jeans. 

His hand begins to make a slow descent into your jeans, his rough fingertips sliding against your soft delicate skin. They brush the hem of your panties as his tongue continues to memorize yours. Your heart is pounding, your body aching for his touch where you need it most as the sound of “Auld Lang Syne” and distant fireworks boom around you. 

A soft sound of need escapes from the back of your throat, the anticipation of his touch building an excruciating ache between your thighs. He uses his thumb to brush against the front of your panties, teasing you, as he breaks the kiss to whisper against your skin. “Do you know how badly I want you?” he asks, his voice low and rough, before returning to your neck and biting down softly. 

You nod against him, still breathing harder than ever. He takes his time, his fingers running a lazy path against your skin, and you feel the heat growing between your legs as his touch gets closer.

He lets his fingers graze over the thin lace material of your underwear, gently tracing up and down in an agonizingly careful manner. His lips break away from your neck and move instead to your ear, his teeth taking the lobe gently. “I’ve dreamed about you like this, every night since the last time we touched,” he whispers, his voice raspy and low. “I’ve ached to feel your skin on mine, your body trembling under my touch.”

You feel his fingers move lower and lower until the heat of his touch is coated in your desire for him. “Jake,” you whine, totally lost in this moment with him. 

His breath catches in his throat when he feels just how much you want him, and he lets out a low moan that makes your whole body tremble. “Fuck,” he whispers, his fingers tracing slow circles over your warm sensitive flesh. His lips find their way back to your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin, making your spine tingle as you whine.

“Shhh,” he coo’s, silencing your whimpers with a soft kiss. He slips his fingers past the fabric, his touch growing more intense as he finally finds what he’s been craving this whole time. “So soft. So beautiful,” he gasps. He moves his hand in a gentle rhythm, his fingers slipping between your folds, finding your sweet spot effortlessly. You feel euphoric, and at complete mercy to his touch. “Can you feel me? Can you feel what you do to me?”

“Yes,” you whine, “I feel everything.”

His fingers move faster as they dip inside, trying to get as deep inside of you as he can, desperate to feel every inch of you. “I dreamed up a hundred different ways to make you fall apart in my arms,” he whispers, his eyes locking on yours, “and nothing comes close to reality. Come home with me, Pops. Stay with me.”

Just as you start to feel your release creeping closer, the bar door slams next to you, pulling you both from the moment. Your eyes snap to Jake’s and his to yours as he quickly realizes the compromising position you’re in, removing his hand from your jeans. 

He quickly steps back, straightening his shirt as you desperately try to regain your composure. You look around, hoping that whoever walked out of the bar doesn't look your way and catch you two in the state you were in. You're both panting, breaths ragged and desperate, and forced to ignore the needy ache that lingers between your legs.

It's as if a bucket of water has been dumped over your head, making you see clearly. Your eyes meet Jake's, his expression still waiting for you to answer his question. But as this rush of clarity takes hold of you, you realize exactly what you've done. 

Your eyes are glued to each other, but this now feels different. Everything feels different. It’s as if the air around you is suddenly thick with unspoken words, the gravity of the situation crashing down around you both. He’s just staring at you, his chest still heaving as he tries to slow his own breathing. He clears his throat, breaking the silence that hangs in the air. “Poppy…”

Your head begins shaking, “No, Jake, we– we can’t do this– we…”

You're at battle with your own mind, fighting for what you want versus what you know is right. 

His whole body goes rigid, the disappointment in your words written all over his face. He lets out a shaky breath, as if it physically pains him, “No– Don’t say that, we can, Poppy, please,” he begs softly.

“Jake we– we’re strangers. We know nothing about each other anymore. We– You’re a rockstar, you live in Nashville. I live in Detroit, I finally work for a firm. This is what we wanted. Isn’t it? This was our dream right? We can’t– You can’t…”

He swallows hard, trying to process what you’re telling him. You know you’re right, this is what you both wanted. He runs a nervous hand through his hair, his eyes looking for something to distract him from the crushing reality you just threw out in front of him.

“I know,” he whispers. He takes a deep breath, his mind and body still screaming to hold you. But the reality of it all is hitting you both like a train, and he’s trying desperately to keep his mind present in the moment. “I know all of that…I just–I don’t give a damn that I’m a rockstar, or that you live in Detroit,” he mutters, a defensive tone to his voice, “It’s you that’s missing, Pops. All day. All night. It’s you that’s in my head day in and day out. I want you. I always will. That is never going to change. We will never be strangers.”

Tears start to form in your eyes at his confession. You want to go with him. Run away and pretend nothing else matters. But it does, and you can’t. It can never be, no matter how badly you both want it.

His voice cracks, and he can feel the walls around his heart starting to crumble as he looks at you. He reaches out, taking your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek softly. “It’s always been you, Poppy. It will always be you,” he whispers, his hand continuing to graze over your skin as if he was trying to memorize every tiny detail. “So please, just– forget it all. Come home with me.”

Your lips begin to tremble, knowing that you’re about to break his heart. Again. “Jake… I can’t.” you say, letting a tear slip from your eye. 

You see the moment the weight of your words hits him, like a slow motion car crash that feels unavoidable. The look of complete defeat on his face makes you want to take it all back, tell him that you’re just as desperate as he is to throw everything aside. But you can’t. It’s just not possible. He lets his hands fall slowly from your face, and the space between your two bodies growing feels like your heart shattering all over again. “Okay.”

For some reason, that breaks you, your tears falling faster now as you see the pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss him softly one last time. 

He returns your kiss with his own, gently taking your face in his palms. It’s as if he’s committing the feel of you to memory, the way he’s holding you, the way your lips fit so perfectly together. He doesn’t want to let go, and he holds the kiss as long as he can, until breathing becomes a desperate fight for air. When he finally does break the kiss, he whispers against your lips just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s still us, Pops.” and with that, he lets you go, leaving him there as small snow flurries begin to fall to the ground. 

With a heavy heart you finally make your way inside your childhood home, tossing your coat onto the couch. You collapse into your bed, letting the tears fall now that you’re alone in your solitude again. You can hear the snow falling harder now, tapping against your bedroom window.  You can still feel the faint remnants of his touch on your skin, his warmth lingering in your heart as you remember the taste of his lips. Jake. Your Jake. Yours for only minutes before you pushed him away. But you know it's for the best. 

You drag yourself up from the bed and change into your cozy pajamas, realizing you are still wearing Jake’s shirt. You bring it to your nose and breathe in his smell, sending you into a new round of tears. You put the shirt back on and crawl back into bed, needing to feel his presence close to you. You bring the neck of the shirt up, enveloping yourself in it like a blanket, your body still trembling with need.

It feels like it's been hours. You're exhausted, but your mind still won't put Jake to rest. There’s no escaping the fact that you're still just as hopelessly in love with him as you were the first time you met. As if he is thinking of you too, your phone buzzes next to your head, his name illuminating the screen with a text. 

Jake 1:42 AM: I keep thinking about what happened. I can still taste you on my lips. I know what you said, and I understand but I can’t let it be over, Pops. I just can’t.

Your heart shatters reading his message. You know how he feels because you feel the exact same way. You don’t even know what to say to him, so you just don’t. You lock your phone and put it back on your nightstand, turning off the lamp and attempting to sleep this terrible, beautiful night away. There is, however, an unbelievable thrum between your legs that you can’t seem to ignore. 

You toss and turn, trying so hard to sleep, but it’s pointless. The only thought going through your brain is of Jake. That deep need for him is building in intensity, your body wanting his touch desperately, your mind remembering every detail of the time you spent wrapped together against the building just an hour ago. You let your hand wander down beneath the sheets, your fingers pushing beneath the waistband of your pants.

He’s all you can think of. It’s as if the flood gates are now wide open, and you’re finally allowing yourself to let Jake occupy every space in your mind and body, and there is nothing else you need. You close your eyes, but all you can see is Jake’s face. His strong, handsome features, the way his lips form as he speaks…

With your eyes shut tight, you picture his body hovering over yours. The scent of him, his touch, the way his body felt against yours as he leaned into you. You let yourself fantasize about him being here with you, wanting you and only you. You imagine the way his lips felt all over your skin, the way he let his teeth graze over your neck and collarbone. The memory of it makes you shiver and your fingers work faster and faster, seeking the release you’ve craved for so long.

You feel like you’re right at the peak of surrendering to this imaginary version of him, when you hear your phone start to ring. Your eyes shoot open as you pull your hand from under your sheets. You reach for your phone but this time your brain is too hazy to think clearly. You see his name on the screen, along with a picture of him you set as his photo years ago. Against your better judgement you slide your thumb across the screen, needing to hear his voice. 

“Hello?” you breathe, your voice coming out as a breathy pant. 

His voice sounds soft and vulnerable, “Hey…” he breathes, sighing on the other end of the line, “I didn’t think you’d answer…I was just laying here, can’t sleep. I don’t know why I called, I just, I saw you read my text earlier and you didn’t answer– I don’t want this to be us. I never want that.”

“I know,” you pause, trying to even your breathing, “I'm sorry.”

“How can this be it?” his voice sounds strained now, the emotion in it pulling at your heart, “How is this the end? I can't make sense of it, all I can think about is you.”

Hearing his deep, gravely voice has your hand slipping back under the sheets, resuming its previous work. “I– I never said it was the end…”

“The way you walked away sure made it seem that way,” he says, and it breaks you in two. 

“It took everything I had Jake, you have to know that,” you say, your voice even more breathy than before and you know that you need to calm down before he takes notice, but the sound of his voice has your hand continuing to move. 

He notices the slight change in your tone, picking up on the way your breathing gets more shallow and more uneven, “Are…Are you okay? You sound…different. Where are you? You sound like you’re out of breath.”

“I'm at home now. In my bed,” you pause, breathing into the phone, “Where are you?”

He lets out a shaky sigh into the phone. You know he’s figured it out, and if you know him like you think you do he isn’t going to change the subject. 

He wants nothing more than to be there, to hear every noise he could pull out of you, to feel every shiver and tremble as he worships every inch of your body. “I’m…I’m in my bed too. But I haven’t turned the light off yet.”

“Turn it off, Jake,” you breathe. 

Your self control is gone. You want this. No, you need this.

You can hear him inhale a sharp, stuttering breath, a quiet, breathy moan escaping him as he takes in your words. He knows what you’re asking for. He’s wanted it in some form for years. The phone jostles a few times before he says, “Done.”

You hum in response, continuing to run your fingers through your soaking wet folds. Something about the sound of his voice and the smell of his cologne wrapped around you has you soaking in this moment and throwing your cares to the wind. 

“Let me send an Uber, Poppy, please,” he manages to breathe, the desperation in his words sending a shiver down your spine. “Come to my hotel. I fucking hate not finishing what I start.”

“So finish it,” you tease. 

“God damn. Get in the Uber, Y/N.”

“No, no Uber. Just this. Just...talk to me Jake,” you whine.

His breath catches in his throat and he lets out a groan, the sound going straight to your core. You can hear him moving around in his bed, shifting to a more comfortable position, the sheets rustling as he does. You know he wants to touch himself, but he’s trying to resist. “I don’t know if I can just talk. Not knowing you’re…like that.” 

“For what it’s worth, you felt better,” you confess in an airy breath. 

“Fuck, Pops,” he groans, “You don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about you like that. I’d die to have you on my fingers again.”

“I want you,” you breathe, “But I know this is the only way I can have you.”

He is quiet for a bit, the only sounds you can hear from him are the heavy breaths he’s trying so hard to control. You’re picturing it all, imagining exactly what he looks like on the other end of the line.“You can have me,” he whispers, his voice low and rough, “I’m all yours, baby.”

“You've never been mine, Jake…”

“I’ve always been yours,” his words are spoken quickly, his voice almost a pleading whine. “I’ve always been yours. You’ve always been mine. I’ve only ever wanted you.”

His words sear through you, your fingers circling your clit faster now, causing a whine of pleasure to leave your chest. 

“Fucking hell, Poppy.” His voice comes through the phone, raw and ragged. “Are you…Is there a way…Can I see you at least?”

You think about it for a second, and you know the sight of him will send you straight to that sweet release you've been chasing all night. “Only if you join me…” you counter. 

“Do you think my hand isn’t already wrapped around my cock, listening to you whimper like that? Thinking about you touching yourself in all the ways I’ve dreamed of?”

“Show me, Jake.” you breathe. 

You quickly switch your phone to Facetime, your thumb hesitating over the call button. You know that there’s no coming back from this, but you can’t help yourself. You need to see him, and you’re not going to let your fear stop either of you from taking what you both want. “Answer the call.”

You press the button and watch as his face fills your screen, his chest heaving with each ragged breath he takes, his silver necklace laying against his body. He’s propped up against the headboard, his skin flushed with a light sheen of sweat that makes your body heat up even more. “You…” he whispers, “God, look at you. You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

“Jake…” you moan his name, your hand moving faster and faster.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty. I can’t….I need…” he stops, unable to find the right words.

You stop suddenly, realizing that he can’t see that much of you. “Hold on,” you say, dropping your phone to the bed as you peel your shirt over your head, leaving your chest exposed. This will be the first time he’s seen you like this, but you feel more confident than ever. You prop your phone up on a pillow, allowing him the full visual of you. 

He sucks in a sharp breath as your shirt comes off, his eyes going wide as he stares at your bare chest, completely mesmerized by you. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, his eyes glued to your body, “You are so perfect. It’s not even possible that someone is this perfect,” You watch his hand move, disappearing under the sheets and moving slowly down his body until he starts to move the sheets so you can watch. “I want you to see me, too.”

It’s dark but you watch as he props his phone up the same way, giving you the exact same view. His cock is hard and throbbing in his hand, bigger than you ever dreamed of, but exactly what you felt beneath his pants at the bar tonight. “Jake, I wish–”

“Say it,” he responds quickly, unable to wait another second to hear your words. He’s almost painfully hard right now, but he needs to hear it all. “Please say it, baby. Talk to me.”

The new pet name sends you spiraling, admitting things you would never admit in the light of day. “I want to feel you. I need to know how you would feel inside of me. I need you, Jake. All of you,” you whine, watching his hand stroke his cock a little faster. 

“Fuck, I’ve never wanted anything like I want that. I need you, too. I need to feel every single inch of your body. I need to do all the things I’ve dreamed about. You have no idea how many times I’ve laid here thinking of you. Wishing that I had you in my bed.” He stops his hand, trying to keep his mind together. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” you answer. 

He pauses for a moment, as if he’s afraid to give in to the moment completely. But his need for you is stronger than his common sense. “Take your panties off, but don't touch yourself again. Not until I tell you to. I want you to listen, I want you to feel this.”

You comply, sliding your panties over your legs and tossing them to the floor. He can see all of you now, your wetness glowing in the dim light of the phone. 

“You’re everything,” he moans softly, his hand moving again. “You are as perfect now as you’ve ever been. I can’t believe I’m seeing you like this.”

“Tell me what to do, Jake,” you plead.

The control he’s desperately trying to keep is starting to crack. Every part of him is wanting to rip that phone from his hand and be there with you. “Touch your inner thighs,” he requests, his voice sounding low and strained. “Just your thighs, don’t touch anywhere else.”

You comply, running your fingers over your thighs as the sound of his voice gives you goosebumps.

He watches you, his eyes glued to the way your fingers move over your skin. His hand slowly working over himself, his need to touch you growing. “Good girl…Does it feel good to touch your skin?” he asks, his hand moving faster. 

“Yes, but I wish it was you,” you admit, your legs starting to shake with anticipation. 

​​“I know,” he whispers, “I know, babydoll. You have no idea how desperately I need it to be my hands.” He bites the inside of his cheek, fighting back the words he wants to say.

“Jake,” you practically moan his name, your back arching as the need for him consumes you from the inside out. You let your eyes flutter closed as you let your hands roam over that most sensitive part of you. “It feels so good but it’s not enough. I need to…I need…” you plead, your whimpers filling the void between you.

He can’t take it anymore. Your desperate whimper has shattered the last bit of his resolve, leaving only pure desire in its place. As much as he wants to watch, to see every bit of you come unraveled, he can’t stand it anymore. He has to see you. “Look at me, baby.”

Your eyes flick to his, seeing them dark and blown out with lust. 

“Spread your legs, let me see you,” he growls, and slowly you do as he says, placing the phone back down against the pillow. 

Watching you spread your legs is the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. The way you’re trembling underneath your own touch makes him let out a soft moan, his hand starting to work faster. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, completely entranced by you. “Touch your clit for me, baby.”

Your hand moves without hesitation as his words ignite something inside of you. He gasps, completely hypnotized by everything he’s seeing. “Slowly, baby,” he whispers, drinking every moment in. “Don’t rush it.”

Your fingers move  in soft, slow circles over your clit as you do what he requests, desperate to obey him. You’re already so close to that edge, his voice is sending you flying. “That’s it, just like that,” he’s praising you, and the look in his eyes says he’s as close as you are. “Keep doing it, baby. Don’t stop.”

“Are you touching yourself, Jake? Are you hard for me?” you ask, knowing he needs this release as much as you do. 

He groans, his head dropping back as your voice fills his ears. “God, yes. You have no idea how hard I am right now. All I want….No, all I need is to bury myself inside of you. I need to feel you, all of you, every warm inch… I need it more than air. I need you, baby. I need you so badly.” he says, flipping his phone around to show you his beautiful cock as he works it with his hand. Precum has started to gather on the tip and you wonder how he tastes. 

“I want to taste you, Jake. I want to feel you in my throat. I want to swallow down every last inch of you. So fucking bad,” you whine. 

“Jesus…” his words come out as a strangled gasp. “I want that, too. I’ve dreamed of having your mouth wrapped around me, of seeing you on your knees, swallowing my cum. I want it so badly, baby. I’d give you everything.” he says. “Put two fingers in baby, move your thumb to your clit.”

You sink two fingers into yourself, the camera positioned perfectly for him to watch how your body takes the digits. “Oh god, Jake,” you cry, wishing more than anything it was him. 

“Oh fuck, look at you. I’m never going to forget this. I’m never going to be the same after seeing you like this.” He takes a moment to just watch your body, his hand still moving furiously on his length. “I need you to keep going, just like that, but start with a third one. I want to see how much you can take, because that’s how much I’m going to give you. As soon as I get my hands on you, I’m going to wreck you, Poppy.”

“Please Jake, I’m so close,” you whine, adding a third finger. 

His chest is heaving, his hand moving at a rapid pace. His eyes watch your every movement, drinking it all in. “I know, baby,” he responds, his voice ragged. “I can see you getting tight around those fingers. I need to hear you Poppy, I need to see your face as you come for me.”

“Come with me, Jake. Please,” you beg. 

“Together, then, ” he breathes. “I’m fucking close. Come for me, baby. Right now.” He’s on the edge, and watching you is going to take him over. “I’m right there, you have no idea. Just come, baby. Look at me, let me see my girl fall apart for me.”

Your eyes lock on his as you fall apart against your own fingers. Your mind tricks you into thinking it's him, letting loose the most powerful release you’ve felt in years as his name falls from your lips. 

He sees the wave hit you, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Hearing his name in that moment does it, it’s all he needs. He gasps as he watches you and lets go, “Fuuuuck,” he whimpers, shuddering as release begins to wash over him. “Y/N…Poppy...” he grunts, “I’m coming, I’m fucking coming,” he grunts, his body tensing as his cum lands on his bare chest in several hot spurts.  

It’s like a freight train, the way it builds and then comes crashing down. And then it’s over. All that’s left besides the ragged breathing is the blissful silence. And as it clears, you find him there staring at you like it’s the first time he’s seen you. He looks so vulnerable, so open. His body is still, but his chest is rising and falling as the last hints of what you did are still visible on his chest in the dim light. The words hang between you, heavy with the impact of everything you just did.

“Poppy,” he whispers, still catching his breath. 

That word breaks your heart, and you find yourself unable to speak for a minute. The weight of all of this is taking over your chest and you have to swallow to find your voice. “Jake,” is all you can manage to say.

He just stares at you. It’s like a dream. You’ve been here, in this moment a million times, but it’s never been real until tonight. All of this feels so impossible, and you’re still trying to make sense of it. 

“I…” he tries to speak, but his voice is barely a whisper. “I don’t know what to say.”

Your guilt overtakes you, “I'm sorry...That I ran from you again. I didn’t want to. I just–”

He shakes his head, the pain of it all visible in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I get it. We both know why you did. I just wish…” he trails off, the words caught in his throat.

“I wish things were different,” you finish. 

“Yeah,” he sighs heavily, the weight of it all hitting him. “We’ve been wishing that since the day we met,” It hangs in the air for a bittersweet moment before he speaks again. “Maybe in another life.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” you whisper. “But Jake?”

“Yeah, P?” The way he says it, the way he says your name, it feels so intimate.

“We’re still us, right?” you ask, your eyes welling with tears. You hope he doesn’t notice.

He stares at you for a moment, taking everything in. “Yeah, we’re still us.” He responds quietly. There’s a long pause before he speaks again, but his face is filled with so many different emotions. “We’ll always be us.”

A single tear falls down your cheek, “You promise? Forever?”

His heart is breaking, watching that tear fall. He’s desperate to brush it away, but he can’t. He can’t touch you. He can’t hold you. He can’t tell you that it’ll be okay. He just has to watch from afar, wishing for more. “Yes, baby. Forever. I promise.”

You nod your head and swallow down the lump in your throat, finally meeting his eyes again, “Happy New Year, Jake.”

You can tell he is shattered just the same as you are, but he is doing everything he can to keep it together. “Happy New Year, Poppy,” he responds quietly, trying his absolute hardest to steady his voice. “I’m glad you were my midnight kiss.”

“Me too, Jake…” you trail off. 

He forces a soft smile, trying desperately to hold on. “I should let you get some rest,” he says quietly, the words making his chin tremble.

You nod, “Yeah, it’s late…”

“Okay,” he whispers, hating every second of this. “You get some sleep.”

“You too,” you murmur.

“I’ll try,” he says, his voice so weak. “Goodnight, my beautiful Poppy.”

 Your voice comes out cracked and thick with emotion, “Goodnight, Jake.”

You want so badly to say more. But the lump in your throat is too strong. You stare at him through the screen, trying to memorize every tiny detail in this moment, knowing that this is how things are going to be. 

“Bye, love,” he breathes, desperately hoping that you don’t hear the word that slipped out, but you do. The screen goes dark, the call ending as you drop your phone to the bed. 

For a minute, you just lie there, staring into the darkness. It just feels so empty without him. The loneliness is almost oppressive, and you need…something. You’re desperate for his touch, for his smell, for anything. You finally sit up, grabbing his shirt that you had pulled off earlier and putting it back on. You crawl under the covers, pulling the shirt over your head. 

You curl up to his shirt, pulling it up over your nose and closing your eyes. It feels like if you could just will it hard enough, maybe you’d feel him here, in your bed, holding you. But you can’t, and you know you have to live with the memories of how he felt pressed up against you at the bar, instead. He’s just a few miles away, on the other side of town, in his bed, probably thinking the same goddamn thoughts. And here you are, separated from him, but no less in love with him than you ever were. Your arm is draped over your pillow, your eyes fixed on the wall across from the bed. You’re trying desperately not to cry, but the tears start anyway. You pull his shirt over your eyes, trying to just disappear in it, hoping it will give you just a bit of comfort. But it doesn’t. 

You know you have to live with the decision you made, even though it's not what either of you wants. You let yourself cry until you can’t anymore and then you just lie there, in the darkness of your childhood bedroom, holding his shirt like a goddamn lifeline. You’re fighting the sobs that are trying to tear out of your chest. 

It just doesn’t make sense. You’ve always been so sure of yourself, and of your life. But right now, the only thing you can be sure of is that you love this man more than you ever thought possible, and you’re going to have to spend the rest of your life knowing that you will never be able to tell him how you really feel about him. How you’ve always felt about him, because though it may be true, it doesn’t change anything. You can’t be together, and that's what hurts the most. 

November 10, 2026

Detroit, Michigan

You drop your car keys into the ceramic dish by your front door, the metallic clang echoing through the house. Your coat is dripping with rain, the weather not giving you a single ray of sun the entire day, in fact the forecast even calls for snow. As you hang it on the coat rack you’re sure to fish your phone out of your pocket, still receiving a few sporadic birthday texts here and there. 

There’s a text from your parents congratulating you on your milestone birthday, a few messages from friends and of course the obligatory ones from random old classmates you haven’t seen since high school. You’re almost at the bottom of the messages when you’re suddenly hit with a wave of disappointment. You don’t know if you were expecting him to reach out today, but it doesn’t make you feel any less deflated that he hasn’t. Not a call, not a text, no flowers, nothing. Part of you wonders if he’s finally moved on from your friendship, or whatever it was. 

Today was a busy day like any other, maybe even busier than usual. You spent most of the day preparing your client in the office for trial next week. It’s everything you’ve ever worked for. You were finally living the life you always dreamed of, but for some reason, you knew something was missing. It felt incomplete.

You drop onto the couch, the heavy November rain against the windows is the only noise in the house. Now that you are finally home, your exhaustion is starting to hit you, and your thirty minute commute  in the rain and traffic didn’t help. You reach for the remote on the coffee table and flick the T.V. on. Nothing is really jumping out at you as you browse through the channels so you just leave it on the news, not really bothering to pay attention. 

You can’t help but dwell on the fact that you haven’t heard from Jake today. Today of all days is the one you count on each year. Big beautiful poppies always show up at your door when you least expect it, but now at 6:30 with no delivery trucks in sight, you let your heart fall. You lean your head back against your couch, letting your eyes close as you think of all the years you took it for granted. You can’t help but smile when you think about it. How thoughtful he was to send poppies specifically. They always were significant to you, a special moment between you and Jake all those years ago. 

You can remember it clear as day. Jake was the first to get his license having a birthday in April, his beat up old sedan now his pride and joy. He insisted he drive you everywhere, to school, to work, everywhere. He just loved the freedom. It was about a month after he got his license when you got a text from him, telling you he wanted to take you somewhere. This wasn’t strange because again, he insisted on driving you everywhere. But this was different, it was early in the morning, and he told you it was a bit of a drive. He gave you no other details, but told you to be ready for him to pick you up in an hour. It was a warm day, dressing yourself in a pair of cut off shorts and a tank top, fastening your hair into a braid as you waited to hear his car pull into your driveway. 

The engine of the car was loud, the windows rolled down. Music was blasting from the stereo as you opened the passenger door to the car. He was already turned to face you, a wide grin on his face, “You ready?” he asks, looking you up and down, with a nod you reach for the door handle as he speaks again.“Well, get in, we’ve got a drive ahead of us.”

You spent two whole hours on the road, him not giving you a single clue to where you were going the entire time. You’d never been with him in the car for this long, but there wasn’t a single nerve coursing through you. You were completely at ease, you remember that perfectly. He sang along to every song that came on and you couldn’t help but to stare at him, even then you were totally and utterly in love with him. 

When the car started to slow, you saw it. Right there through the passenger side window you saw the biggest field of flowers you’d ever seen. You didn’t even know the place existed. It was stunning, as far as the eye could see, flowers. Thousands of them. Red, yellow, orange, pink, every color you could imagine. Your eyes were filled with wonder, and you looked over at him, his eyes still on the road, but his smile was present. 

“I knew you would love this,” he said as he pulled off the main road. He brought the car to a stop and turned to look at you, studying the awestruck look on your face. “Come on,” he said simply, climbing out of the car and walking around to your side to open the door for you.

As you got out you walked along the overgrown pathway towards the field of flowers, the sun shining down harshly on your shoulders as bees buzzed around overhead. “Where are we?” you asked, letting him lead you. 

“Fennville,” he smirks, flipping his sunglasses down to his nose. 

“How did you know this was here, we are in the middle of nowhere?” you question. 

“Heard some people talking about it at Kroger, thought of you.” he answers, rubbing his hand over his mouth. 

“Do you know what kind of flowers these are? I’ve never seen them before.”

“Yeah, they’re poppies.” he smiles, snatching one up from the ground and tucking it behind your ear. Your heart swelled at the act and it was right then you had a new favorite flower. 

He led you deep into the field, the two of you spending hours exploring and picking the beautiful flowers. He eventually sat down in the middle of the field, lying down to watch the sky, patting the ground next to him for you to join him. You laid next to him, your heads turned to look at one another. You remember exactly how the sun cast his face in the most incredible glow, the flecks of gold in his eyes stood out more than ever, and the freckles that dotted his nose were almost shimmering. Your mind drifts back to how effortlessly you two could just be together. You couldn’t get enough of his attention, and he was never scared to give it to you. You just existed together, comfortably, calmly.

He twirled a beautiful red petaled stem between his fingers as he looked up to the sky, listening to the nature that surrounded the two of you. “You know, these kind of remind me of you.” he says, softly. 

“Really?” you breathe, feeling sleepiness take you over as you lounge in the warm sun. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, staring at the flower between his fingers. “They’re not afraid to stand out, to be bold. They grow wild and free and they are just so full of joy. You can’t help but smile when you see them. The rest of the field is so plain, but they fight to get their share of the sun. Just like you.” He looks over at you when you don’t respond. You’re almost asleep, the heat of the sun and the beautiful afternoon sending you into a blissful trance.

You turn to look over at him, he is staring up at the sky, his profile completely visible. You’d never been around anyone who paid such close attention to the little details about you, the thought alone made your heart skip a beat. 

“So soft and beautiful,” he continues, letting the stem fall from his fingers and reaching over to lightly lay the flower between the two of you, “and you’re just as unique as these are. They don’t grow everywhere, they’re rare.”

You let his words sink into you, and unbeknownst to him you felt exactly the same way about him. You looked to the field, the poppies dancing hypnotically in the breeze around you, and the colors on their petals almost sparkled in the sunlight. You were surrounded by hundreds of thousands of them, and every single one of them was beautiful.

That was the day your nickname was born, Jake refusing to call you anything else after that. You loved it, it was special, and no one else knew why. They didn’t need to. There was no hiding the flush from your cheeks that day, or the flutter in your heart each time he let it slip out. You couldn’t deny its significance, you were completely lost to the boy that was lying next to you in the field of poppies, and you didn’t know it then, but you always would be. 

As beautiful and special as the memory was to you, it also hurt, knowing that today was the first time since that day that he hasn’t sent them to you on your birthday. The memory now feels tainted and forgotten. You pull yourself up from the couch and make your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine to try and ease the pain that has suddenly crept up upon you. 

You feel the cold air from the open fridge as you pull out a bottle of Pinot Grigio, the neck of the bottle clinks against the edge of the glass as you fill it up more than you should. You move to the counter and lean against it, staring blankly out the kitchen window into your backyard. Darkness has settled in, and you're reminded once again that you are entirely alone with these thoughts. No one to pull you out of your head, no one to whisper sweet nothings to you. 

You even tried to make plans with friends tonight, hoping to share a few drinks and laughs to ring in your thirtieth, but each person you asked had plans, or perfectly valid reasons they couldn’t. Families to tend to, and partner work events. If you didn’t feel alone then, you certainly do now. It’s not like the weather was the best either, all around this day was a bust.

You stand in the empty kitchen, surrounded by all the silence and feeling so utterly alone. You lift the glass to your lips and take a heavy swig. You try to shake off the feeling that this might just be the most miserable birthday you've ever had. Unable to stand the silence a moment longer you wander over to your album collection, your fingers searching through the shelf for the one album you know will help soothe the ache inside you. You smile when you see the familiar cover, pulling the vinyl from the sleeve and placing it gently on the turntable. The unmistakable sound of Bad Company begins to play through the speakers as you sit on your couch and drink your wine, wondering where Jake is tonight and if he feels this too.

You stare out the window, watching the rain and now snow fall together, your head starting to feel fuzzy. You drink your wine as you listen to “Weep No More”, wishing that it would numb you in ways that would make the ache disappear, but it doesn’t. It just reminds you of how lonely you are, how lonely you have been for so long. As the guitar solo sounds through the speakers, you lean your head back against the couch and close your eyes.

Next thing you know you find yourself waking on your couch, the record begging to be flipped and your wine glass empty on your coffee table. The rain is still pouring and the clock now reads 8:43. You decide to call it a night, placing your glass in the sink and closing the turntable until next time. You drag yourself upstairs, changing into a pair of pajamas and pulling your hair into a knot at the top of your head. You crawl into your bed, ready for this day to be over and as you turn off the light, the last thought on your mind is Jake. Just like always. 

It's hard to fall asleep, your brain just won't shut off. Your mind is still working overtime, memories playing in double time. It's a vicious cycle, and a cycle that you get stuck in every year on your birthday. Each year, one year older but no less sad. You close your eyes tightly, doing the only thing you can do right now which is force yourself to fall asleep. Or try to, at least.

As you start to drift off thunder clatters in the distance and though it’s soothing, it wakes you, causing you to toss and turn. Just as your eyes begin to close, you hear it again, but it sounds strange. A few seconds later you hear it again, and your brain fully wakes as you sit up in your bed. You listen again for the sound, and as you hear it you realize it's not thunder at all, but the sound of someone knocking on your front door. 

A bolt of panic runs through you. Who the hell would be at your door at this time of night? You look at your phone, it's almost ten-thirty. No one you know would be stopping by unannounced, and at this hour? You get up, quietly walking from your room, down the stairs and toward the front door. As you get closer, the rain and the knocking both get louder, causing you to grow even more confused as nerves start to gather in your stomach.

You take a deep breath as you gather your courage, twisting the lock and opening the door. The second the door opens, a gust of cool, wet air blows through the house. The rain, now seemingly heavier than before pours onto your front porch step, the sound almost drowning out the sound of your thumping heart. You peer through the dark, rain drenched night and you swear your heart stops at the sight. Your mind can hardly comprehend what you’re seeing. 

In the dark, with rain pouring down around him, you see Jake. In jeans, a t-shirt and a very drenched leather jacket, holding the largest bouquet of multi-colored poppies you’ve ever seen, petals heavy with rain. 

“Poppy?” he says. He's breathing hard and he looks incredibly panicked. You again notice the bouquet in his trembling hand and your brain starts to piece the situation together.

“Jake? What’re you–”

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I was supposed to be here hours ago, but there was a wreck once I hit 75, and then the traffic–” he says, water dripping from the end of his nose as he talks. 

A wave of shock washes over you at the fact he's really here. Right here at your doorstep no less. “Oh my god– Come inside!” you urge, seeing his cold, wet body start to shake. 

He nods his head and starts to shake the water off of himself like a dog as he steps into your house. His hair is sopping wet, and the way his shirt clings to his chest…well, you’re trying to push down that thought. He looks like he’s barely holding it together. As soon as you shut the door behind him he holds out the bouquet, wanting you to grab it.  “Happy Birthday, Pops, sorry they’re late.”

Your heart shatters. Of course he didn't forget. “Jake...Thank you...But– You're here, in Detroit, what are you–”

“It’s your birthday, Pops,” His voice is shaky and his body is shivering slightly. He's soaking wet and he's going to get sick if he stands here in those wet clothes any longer. So, you reach out and take his hand, tugging him with you as you walk toward your living room. He follows you in and stands awkwardly next to the couch as you turn to face him. You can’t take your eyes off of him, and you notice the look in his eyes is off, like your presence has him hypnotized. You notice his eyes move up and down your body, taking in your pajamas.

You quickly look down at yourself, feeling slightly self conscious and he instantly notices. He shakes his head as if reading your mind. “No, don’t. You look perfect to me.”

You feel bashful, and unsure of what to say, so instead you rush to the bathroom to grab a towel for him to start drying himself off.

“Thank you.” he mumbles and takes the towel from you, trying to dry his face and hair. You watch as he rubs the towel over his head, his shirt comes off his body and you're almost knocked backward. There were a few times throughout the years you'd see him shirtless but, my god, did he look good now. You're trying to take little glances, hoping he's too busy drying off to notice.

“Jake, don’t think that I don’t want you here, but…Normally you just…send the flowers. I can’t believe you drove eight hours to deliver them, in this weather no less…” you question, crossing your arms across your braless chest. 

He stops drying his hair and stares at you. You can see the look in his eyes. It’s  intense, and it’s not just because he’s freezing. He’s trying to read you, he’s searching for something. He stands there, in his wet jeans, with only a towel thrown over his shoulders. He is looking at you intensely, and your heart starts to pound in your chest.

He bites his lip, and his eyes dart down your body for a split second. He swallows and continues to dry his hair, the air around you suddenly feeling much heavier. He looks you in your eyes. “The flowers didn’t feel like enough this year.”

“Jake, they are always enough. They are more than enough,” you whine. 

He drops the towel to his side, the damp strands of hair clinging to his face. You see his chest rising and falling, trying to steady his breathing, but he seems to be failing. He walks towards you and you back up until you are pressed against the wall. He gets in so close you can feel his body heat, and he gently reaches up to take your chin into his hand. His fingers are still cold, and the feeling of them on your skin almost burns. His voice is rough as he looks at you deeply, he’s searching every inch of your face. “No. I couldn’t let you be alone, to sit there all night long with a glass of wine in your hand, just staring at the flowers. Not this year, Pops. This year is different.”

“Different?” you breathe.  

“It's your thirtieth birthday, Poppy.” he smirks.

“Yeah?” you answer, still not on the same train of thought he seems to be on. 

He takes a deep breath, and you can see the nervous look come over his face again. His eyes flick down to the floor, his cheeks start to get red. He can’t look at you. This entire thing is so incredibly intense, and you can feel the anticipation in the air. He takes a deep breath and then lets his eyes meet yours. 

“You know, I have traveled all over the world. I have seen people and places so beautiful your mind can hardly comprehend it. I’ve seen waterfalls and caverns, and cliffs and fields so big and vast you feel small compared to them. What I’m saying is that, I’ve been to so many places and seen so many beautiful things, but none of them, nothing, compares to you.” 

You blink at him, awestruck by his words. “Jake…”

He doesn’t give you a second to speak. He’s nervous and he’s scared, and all of this is coming out unfiltered. “I mean it, I’ve been to so many gorgeous places, I’ve met so many people and nothing has captivated me the way you do. I have searched the whole damn world, and everywhere I looked, I was looking for you. Always looking for you, thinking about you.”

You don’t even know what to say. Just two hours ago you were laying in your bed missing him, and now hes here, in front of you spilling his soul. 

“I could go to the edge of the ocean and see the beauty of the sunrise, but it’s nothing compared to the way your eyes light up when you laugh. No matter where I go, or how many new things I see, I can tell you that there isn’t another you. You’re rare. You’re my one in a million, wild and free Poppy. I’d give up every single thing I have to wake up next to you in that poppy field again, just to be next to my girl. Just me and you.”

Your lips part to speak but he’s not done.

“It's been twelve years since that night in my basement. Twelve years that I have thought of you day in and day out. I know that at the time you probably didn't mean it. Who really means anything they say when they're eighteen?” he laughs. “The thing is, I did. I did mean it Pops. You're all I’ve ever wanted, so much so that I signed the back of a gas station receipt to prove it.” he says, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. He reaches inside and pulls out a well worn, tattered and wrinkled receipt, barely hanging on to life. Signed on the back with both of your names. Your heart lurches in your chest as your fingers grab the delicate paper from him. 

He rubs his hand over his mouth, trying to find the courage to keep going. “And I still mean it today, Poppy. Twelve years later, and I still feel it, I still feel everything…for you.” His eyes don’t break from yours, and you can feel all the walls he’s put up starting to come crumbling down. You can see that he’s terrified, but he’s fighting to keep those emotions tucked away. “I’m ready to make good on that pact, Y/N. I never forgot. Not for a second.”

You look at the receipt in your hands, seeing the words scribbled down so carelessly, promising yourselves to each other at age thirty. Your names are still there, though the pen is faded. You hadn’t thought about that night since it happened, and seeing this has flooded your mind with the memory. The night you kissed him for the first time. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

“Of course I do,” he says, his voice shaking. “It’s the only thing that has kept me going. How do you think I got through all these years?” His eyes are still locked on yours, he is trying so goddamn hard to keep everything inside him. He’s fighting the tears that are attempting to come, “Every time I thought time was up, every time it looked like we wouldn’t make it, that this thing we have was hopeless…I’ve had that piece of paper. It was something to hold on to...” his voice drifts off, his eyes are watering now. “A piece of you when I couldn’t have the real thing.”

You see his eyes fill with tears, and you can’t take it anymore. You reach out to him, your hand touches his stubbly cheek. You wipe his tears away with your thumb. You’re not even sure what to say right now or what to do, just that you need to touch him. He reaches up and grabs your hand, holding it against his face, desperate for your touch. 

The walls are coming down, he can no longer hold back. “God…you have no idea, no idea at all the hold you’ve had on me, Poppy. You don’t understand how much I’ve loved you for so long. You know how much I still do. Even if I never said it, even if I didn’t fight for it…I still kept loving you, more and more with every single day. You were always there, in my heart, in my mind. For twelve years, shit, longer than that, you’ve been my everything.”

Love. He loves you. He’s always loved you. 

“Jake, I lo–”

He pulls your hand from his cheek, resting your fingers on his mouth as he slides them across his lips, taking in the feeling of you. Then, his eyes meet yours again. “And listen, I don’t even know if you have a boyfriend, or– or if you’re seeing anyone…I never let myself look, but I’m here, I have time, and I want this Poppy. I want you. I want to do this. It’s finally time for us.”

This feels like you’re in a dream. You’re watching some fantasy of yours unfold right in front of you. You would be convinced that this isn’t really happening, if it weren’t for your hand still against his lips. Your heart aches, and you feel like maybe it’s too good to be true. The man you’ve been in love with since you were young, the man who keeps you awake at night, is telling you what you’ve dreamed of. 

“Jake, you– you want to be… with me? Like…that?”

“Of course I do,” he says, his voice cracking, “I’ve wanted it forever. I wish I could go back and change things all those years ago….I wish we could have just been together the whole time. But right now…I just need you to hear me when I say that I want you, I’ve always wanted you. I’ve only held on and I’ve only pushed through for you. Everything I’m doing is for you. For us. You’re my girl, Pops. I’m ready to make it official.”

You feel your own eyes starting to well with tears, the words coming from his lips are everything you’ve ever wanted. The part of your life that has felt so incomplete has suddenly vanished from the second you opened your front door. It’s him, it’s always been him, and now he’s here, asking you to be with him in the way you planned all those years ago. 

“I won’t promise you that it’ll be easy. This isn’t going to be pretty. We’re not kids anymore. We’re not those two dumb teenagers who made a promise on a piece of paper not knowing what life had in store for them. We’re in the real world now, and it’s messy. It's hard. We both have demanding jobs and work long, tiring hours, but I know we can do this. I want to do this. With you. No one else.” he whispers as he rubs your cheek with the back of his fingers, his knuckles dragging along your skin like he’s trying to absorb the feeling of you.

“But– Married? That seems like a big leap,” you breathe. 

His mind drifts for a moment as he tries to put together the words. “Is it a big leap? I don't think it is. If you think about how long I've loved you, the idea of us being together, it's not too soon. I've waited twelve years to be here with you. I've taken every single step just to get to this moment, and now I know, even through all the bullshit, there's no one else for me. I want to be married to you.”

“It just– it seems scary,” you whisper, feeling his hand wrap around your waist. 

He steps even closer, his hand wrapping around you and pulling you against him. His damp chest pressed to your thin tank top. You can hear the sound of his breathing, and feel his hands as they roam gently over your body. “It is scary, it’s terrifying. Being without you is scary, and the idea of me losing you completely scares me the most. But, what if we just try? What if we stop running and just try?”

Your eyes meet his as his thumb rubs small circles on your lower back. 

He leans forward ever so slightly, closing the distance even more between your bodies, like he’s pulled into your gravity. A faint noise escapes his lips as he breathes against your mouth. “Sometimes you just have to jump and trust that the net will appear.”

It’s as if your breath has been stolen from your lungs, “I–”

He’s so close, all you can see is the gold flecks in his eyes. His lips skim across your cheek, your skin is on fire. You can feel the air from his nose brush against your face, his hand around your waist is holding you so close. His touch is lighting you up inside like fire, you’re completely hypnotized by him. 

“I want to do this, Y/N. I have a long time off, and I want to spend it with you, making this work. I love you Poppy. I’ve loved you forever. We can do this. Say yes. Say yes to this, Poppy.”

“You’re sure about this?” you breathe, letting your lips brush his. 

“Every nerve in my body is telling me this is right. I know in my soul that this is it. It’s you, it’s only ever been you….” he whispers, his hand slides from your waist to the small of your back, pulling your body into him as his mouth ghosts over yours. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me like I want you, P.”

“I want you, Jake. I always have.” you confess, cupping his cheek with your hand. His face falls into your touch as he groans with relief. 

“Do you love me?” he asks, his tone vulnerable and pleading. 

“Yes. I do. You know I do. I’ve loved you since the day I met you,” you answer, brushing your thumb under his eye.

He breathes against your palm, your name murmured out in a soft whimper. “Say yes, Poppy. Be mine. Marry me.”

There’s no hesitation, no second guessing. You know this isn’t some fairytale that you’re going to wake from. The only man you’ve ever loved, the one man you’ve dreamed of for years is standing in front of you asking you to marry him.

“Yes.” The word falls from your mouth so easily, it's as if you haven’t even thought it through. This could be the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done. 

Your heart is pounding, the word feeling so final on your tongue. 

And as you look at him, you have no idea what the future will hold, but what you do know is that he’ll be in it, and that’s all you’ve ever wanted.

But… this was Jake. You needed to be fully honest with him. 

Your present, real life wasn’t going away. There was a crafted reality that didn’t involve him, in ways you didn’t care to address at this moment. 

Though, you couldn’t lie to him. You had to tell him. There was one issue. It wasn’t so drastic that it could get in the way of this for you two, per se. It just seemed wrong to go through with what you felt was about to happen, without informing him of your current situation. 

But, logic was escaping you quickly. 

As soon as he was leaning in to kiss you, his lips so full and soft, you lost the ability to rationally think. Any thought besides Jake Kiszka himself was far and fleeting from your mind. 

Tonight was meant for you two.

Right now, this could be it. All you had to worry about was right now. At this moment, you could venture into a universe where things seamlessly fall into place. Just like you always wanted.

A little secret kept from him in this moment was the least important thing to you as you felt his lips finally brush against yours, his mustache tickling your upper lip. 

The harsh beating of your heart calmed as soon as you felt his lips touch yours. 

Tonight was tonight. 

Tomorrow’s reality could set in just as soon as you felt him like this, the way you've always dreamed of— even if only this once. 

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[gretavanlace]

Feels Like Gold

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk, breeding kink, Jake drives a car (the most dangerous situation of all), extremely mild degradation, etc

Okay, in honor of our collective jakedown, I rooted around in my unreleased work and then did a little revamping. This one is for you, @piratejakesgf thank you for your request ❤️ *loosely edited, fair warning

And kisses to @jake-kiszkas-smirk and her brilliant mind for titling this when I was at a loss 💋 xoxo

“Fuck, these are so uncomfortable!” you hiss with exasperation, tugging at the itchy nylon hell encasing your legs.

“Told you not to wear them.” Jake reminds you, flipping on his turn signal before switching lanes, though the freeway is dark and nearly deserted.

“You know how my family is.” you remind him right back, annoyed with his flippant attitude. “If I’d shown up to that wedding in a dress with bare legs I’d have been labeled the whore of the family tree. My branch weighed down with bad choices; exposed skin and a degenerate rockstar on my arm.”

“I mean, to their credit, I actually am a degenerate so they’re just calling ‘em like they see ‘em.” His eyes are locked on the road, but a tiny smirk tells you he’s pleased with his cleverness. “Plus, your aunt tried to fuck me, so you aren’t the only whore in the family.”

An abrupt laugh trills out of you. “Right. Which aunt?”

“Does it matter?” he shrugs. “She told me she slept with Joe Perry and it left her with a taste for guitarists…I told her Perry could suck my dick because I could stomp his riffs any day, but that only turned her on even more.”

“And then what happened?” you giggle, falling into his little pretend world.

“Well,” he sighs wearily, “Promise you won’t be angry with me?”

You’re solemn and stoic, as if this is very serious business, “Scouts honor.”

“Then, I excused myself and wound up fucking your uncle in the bathroom, instead.” he squints at an upcoming exit sign to be sure you’re headed in the right direction, and then settles back into a more relaxed state, wrist guiding the steering wheel casually.

“Was he any good?” you ask, mock sincerity laced through your tone.

“I’ve had better.” He shrugs.

“You’re so stupid.” you shake your head with a doting roll of your eyes, and reach under your dress to roll the torturous hose down and off.

He watches out of the corner of his eye, stealing glances as safely as he can while driving.

“Jesus, they were thigh highs all this time?” he sounds a little like he’s considering jerking the car over onto the shoulder of the highway to drag you into the backseat.

“All this time.” the garment in question lands in his lap.

“Lemme see.” he orders quietly before you have a chance to remove the second.

Up the hem of your dress travels until he can get a good look at the black lace resting at the top of your thigh. “Fuck, pretty girl.”

“You like that?” you tease in a silken voice.

He nods, tightening his grip on the wheel.

You push a little further with, “Are you hard?”

“I’m gonna kick you out of this car and make you walk home.” he lies, reaching out to snap the elastic lace against your skin. “Take this one off, too…it’s doing unspeakable things to me. Especially since you’re only wearing the one. You look sloppy - like I just rocked your shit in the back of a tour bus.”

“Jacob Thomas..” you gasp lightly, as though scandalized “Someone seems a little worked up.”

“I might be, if only I didn’t have such a firm grasp on the power of will, my darling.”

He’s being untruthful, but he does it so elegantly - in that soft, slightly British lilt of his, you decide to grant him a very gracious pass and drop the second into his lap.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Kiszka.” You wiggle your polished toes, enjoying the freedom. “My baby cousin, the one you let dance on your feet? She asked me if you were a pirate.”

This tugs an honest laugh out of his chest…a gorgeous sound that colors your cheeks pink. “You told her yes, I expect?”

You hum in confirmation, “I did. And I told her that you have a special sword with strings on it and it makes beautiful, dark music that people come from far away lands to hear. Just like the sirens in Peter Pan.”

His face visibly softens in the flickers of light shed by the street lamps whipping by. “You always did know how to paint a lovely picture, pretty girl.”

The low purr of the engine lulls your head against the window, but just as your eyes begin to grow heavy, he pulls you back to him with a quiet, “Hey,”

Turning your head against the seat, you study his profile, charting the map of your favorite face, “Yeah?”

”Whose baby was that you were holding? The tiny, tiny one,”

It seems such an odd thing for him to ponder, and you have to mentally sift through the reception a bit, you held a great many babies tonight…it seemed like every cousin and second cousin in attendance was weighed down by a diaper bag stuffed full of diapers and pacifiers.

”The one with the little headband bow-thingy.” He clarifies. “She was so small.”

“My cousin’s. He and his wife’s third in almost as many years. She’s only like a month old and smelled like heaven.” You draw in a breath and wish her silken tufts of hair were still pressed to your cheek, “Why?”

”I don’t know,” you know him well enough to know that’s a damn lie. “I just- I don’t know…do you ever think about it?”

Caught off guard, you opt for a little joke, “Does Jakey have baby fever?”

He smiles, and there is a touch of shyness that lives there, “Shut up. Do you think about it?”

“Do I think about having babies? Well, I-“

He interrupts quickly to set you straight, “Do you think about having babies with me?”

Oh.

Where is he heading with this? Will a bit of honesty scare him? Will it scare you?

Deciding to take the plunge, this is simply a conversation after all, and a subject that he broached to boot, you choose truth. “Yes, I’ve thought about babies with you. Although that whole twin thing is fucking terrifying.”

Again, you joke. Again, he doesn’t take the bait. “Identical twins aren’t hereditary. We’re just an accidental fuck up. When you think about it, what do you think?”

”A lot of things.”

Smoothly, he guides the car onto the off-ramp that leads to home. “Very informative, darling. A veritable treasure trove of information.”

He hasn’t tipped his hand and you aren’t about to let him off so easily. “”Do you think about it?”

”Honestly, not before. I mean, I think about how you’ll look in your wedding dress and if you’ll wear your hair swept up the way I like, and I suppose that’s sort of the same thing. Or headed in the same direction, anyway. But watching you hold that baby tonight…”

Your chest suddenly feels a little tight. You’re touched by his admission.

And how endearing that he wonders how you’ll wear your hair. You reach out and stroke the back of your hand along the cut of his jaw, “When the day comes, I’ll wear it up for you.”

~

Later, he’s draped across the bed watching you glide about the room in your bra and panties. Earrings unfastened and placed gently on your jewelry tray, necklace hung carefully, hair let loose and shaken out at long last.

Hands folded behind his head, he speaks up, breaking the spell you have unknowingly cast over him, “You said ‘a lot of things’. Elaborate.”

You turn, eyes drifting over the king lounging about upon the bed you share, in nothing but the dress pants he hasn’t yet bothered to shed. “What?”

He cocks his chin, summoning your attention further ”Babies. You said you think about a lot of things.”

He looks so fucking sinfully delicious…a sickeningly sweet cake sent from the bewitching trenches of hell to rot your teeth. “The normal things. Baby things.”

The heavy wooden frame creeks quietly as he pulls himself into a sitting position to study your expression, “Liar.”

”Oh, I’m sorry,” you dance around the accusation, “I just happen to be looking at a disgustingly attractive little shit waiting for me to climb into bed beside him. Forgive me for looking flustered.”

”Don’t be coy, darling,” he tsks, clicking his tongue against his perfect teeth. “I can see it written all over your pretty face. You’ve got a secret.”

He’s moving towards the edge of the bed now, drawing you in closer with his devilish stare. “Tell me.”

”I don’t have a secret.” Whose voice is that? Surely it’s much too quiet and meek to be your own.

”Tell the truth.” He hums, a knowing twinkle flashing in his gaze. “What do you think about?”

Your eyes refuse to meet his own as your stomach knots, warm and vibrating. “I guess…sometimes I - sometimes I think about the trying part of it all.”

He’s watching you closely, you can feel it like warm fingers dancing across your blushing skin. “So you think about fucking?”

He almost sounds disappointed. He had expected more judging by your hesitancy to share.

”Well,” your fingers are plucking at the comforter now, rooting out a loose thread to spin around your finger, “Yes, but it’s kind of more than that. I think about you… inside me.”

At last, you peek up at him. He looks curious, as if he can’t quite figure you out. “Why are you being such a little mouse about this?” His palms are cupping your face now, calluses soothing you like a song. “I’m inside you all the time, and I think about it all the time, too.”

Shaking your head gently, you find your footing…at least a smidge, “Not like that. I think about you inside me. The way you would have to be if we were trying.”

Your birth control rendered condoms unnecessary ages ago, yet he has always pulled out - ever cautious and responsible. Confusion is still painted across his features…until it isn’t.

“Oh,” a lascivious grin appears and you long to curl your tongue over his lips, “you fucking filthy little thing.”

In a blink, you’re dragged onto the bed and into his arms, tossed down with your back against the sheets. his body heated and flush against yours.

Mouth suckling and nipping at your throat, he rasps into your skin, “Is that what does it for you? Pretty girl wants my cum?”

Your body’s reaction is visceral, primal, and almost embarrassing. You’re arching away from the mattress, desperate to be even closer than you already are.

“Answer me.” He huffs, sinking a bite into your jaw.

”Yes…” your hands are in his hair, thighs around his waist, “I want it.”

”Say it.” He’s rocking against you now, hard and straining against your panties. “Say what it is that you want. What you think about.”

”I think about you fucking me,” once again, whose shaking voice is that? “I think about the way you sound when you finish, and the way your cock throbs and twitches in your hand, and how it might feel inside me.”

”Keep going.” He orders, soft and wavering in your ear.

”I think about how warm your cum would feel inside of me, and maybe I wouldn’t be able to keep it all in. Maybe it might tickle a little when it leaked out.”

”Fuck, baby…” his hands are everywhere, yanking your breasts from the cups of your bra, winding your panties down your thighs, fingers sinking into your soaking, clenching cunt with a groan that sounds pained.

He seeks out your favorite spot and tucks up into it, wrenching a wanton moan from your lungs “You want me to fill this little pussy up? Keep you dripping wet with me all day long? Fuck baby after baby into you?”

”Jake…” you’re clawing at his bare shoulders, fucking yourself hopelessly against his hand. “More.”

He slips a third finger inside you, “Is that why you get a little whiny when I pull out? My girl wants me to do it inside?”

”More,” you urge through gritted teeth, eyes locked in on his face and the lust so evident in the set of his features.

”You want four?”

”Please, Jake…” tears are threatening at your lash line, “more, more, more,”

“You’re having some trouble listening tonight, aren’t you?” he sounds diabolical, and turned on beyond belief. “I asked you a question.”

His thighs prise your legs open wider as he squeezes his pinky into your warmth to join the rest of his drenched fingers, “Do you want my cum inside you? You want me to give it to you? Keep it all safe and warm for me?”

With a mournful wail you’re reduced to a million little pieces beneath him. Rocking frantically into his touch…the heel of his hand grinding quick circles into your clit as his fingers fuck you through it. He’s covered in you, it rolls down his wrist and beads against his stomach like early morning dew, anointing him as you thrash and writhe like a beautiful, fluttering leaf in an autumn wind.

When the hazy fog clears, allowing your sight, it’s his face - stunning and beaming - you find, “Hey, pretty girl.”

Now that you’re coming down, your diffidence returns and you close your eyes in a pathetic attempt to hide.

He’s having none of it, “No, no, darling…you stay with me. Right here, baby. You look so pretty with my cock inside you, imagine how fucking beautiful you’re gonna be when I fuck you full.”

“Please, jake…” it’s pathetic really, and maybe you should care about that, but you don’t. “I need it, I need it so bad.”

“Yeah?” The gravel in his tone makes you shiver with frantic desire. “Pretty girl just wants to bounce on my cock all day? Just using me to get what she wants?”

Rather than answer, you elect to begin wrangling the button on his pants.

“Someone’s eager.” He teases softly, lifting up on one elbow, easing your struggle. “You want it that bad? Are you gonna let me cum wherever I want? Gonna let me put a baby inside you?”

“Fucking do it!” Frustrated and sparking with electric desperation, you give up and tug on his waistband feverishly until he takes over, popping the button with ease and kicking them off.

His cock is fisted in his hand now, with your eyes fiercely focused on it. Hard and beautiful and yours. “You want that inside you?” He whispers, watching you stare. “You want me to fuck you? You want me to fucking breed that pretty pussy? Make you a mama?”

You should be ashamed of yourself, you well and truly should be…but fuck if you don’t want more, “Keep talking while you fuck me,” you breathe, somewhere between imploring and begging, “Dirtier, come on…”

His cock slips inside. Just the cashmere tip teasing at you, “Dirtier?” He nudges in a little deeper, just enough to make you whine, “well what should I say, pretty girl? Should I tell you that you’re my beautiful little cum slut and if I’d known it sooner I’d have been stuffing you full all this time?” Deeper still he glides, “Or that I want to cum inside you and then fall asleep with my fingers buried in your cunt to keep it where it belongs?” He’s fucking you harder, faster…the pillowy head of his cock kissing your cervix in a divine dance between pleasure and pain. “Or should I tell you about how I think about licking it up? Kissing you with my cum on my tongue because I know you’d suck it off like the greedy little baby you are.”

“I-“ a pitiful whimper escapes you, but his fingers are suddenly grasping your chin, grounding you enough to collect your scattered thoughts. “I’m gonna cum, tell me where you’re going to cum. Tell me where you’re going to put it. Please, I want it,”

Hips rolling into a succulent grind against your swollen clit now, he begins “I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve got every last drop, pretty girl. It’s all yours, are you gonna take it for me like a good girl? Are you going to be a good little mama and take it all?”

His name is all you can manage as you shatter. It’s primeval and animalistic, sounds that would make you want to crumple in on yourself if anyone heard them besides your Jacob.

“You’re so fucking tight and wet..” his perfect cock is pounding you through it as he inches closer and closer, “are you ready for me to make a mess of this little beauty right here? Hmm? Ready for me to fuck this cunt all full and dirty? You want it?”

“Jake…” you trail off, eyes fighting to stay open and locked in on his face while you shake against him, twisting and clenching around his perfect cock, “you’re so fucking hard.”

He nods furiously, burying his face in the crook of your neck to lick your pounding pulse “That’s all you, baby. You make me that hard.”

Your hips begin rocking up to meet him even faster, hungry to please. “Good girl, you keep fucking that cock. Are you gonna take what you want? Gonna make me cum? Gonna help me fill this pretty little cunt?”

In response, your nails dig into his skin, raking your mark, claiming him. You’re almost there again, though you can’t imagine how. “I’m so fucking close,” you’re sighing and shaking the words into the room, offering confession.

“Again?” He’s mocking you so sweetly, teasing dirty words into your ear like lullabies, “Already? Is my pretty girl gonna cum on this cock? Squeeze and suck the cum right out of me to steal it away? You want it that badly?”

You let go, with a trembling breath of his name, and feel his body tense against the feverish grip of your orgasm.

”That’s it, baby,” his words are but a sigh skittering across your cheek, “That’s it. Feels so good. Feels like gold. My pretty, pretty girl…”

He fucks you faster even as you melt into a puddle within his arms. “Gonna cum for you,” he promises, “I’m gonna cum so hard for you. Who’s going to take it? Who’s gonna take every fucking drop?”

”I am,” have you even made a sound? You can’t be sure, you’re so lost.

”Yes, you are…” his forehead, slick with exertion and need, nods against your own. “You’re going to take it just like you take this cock. My good fucking girl…pretty pink baby doll just begging for me to wreck her.”

Without warning, he collapses into your arms, moaning and crying out, shuddering as he releases inside you. Warm and perfect, everything you’ve ever imagined and so much more.

His fingers sink into your muscles, clutching and pulling you closer still, “Baby…” he sounds raspy and pained, “Baby, baby, baby, fuck..fuck…”

And when at last, he calms, it is with his cheek pressed to your chest, clocking the wild metronome that is your heart with your hands sweeping through his hair.

Soon, you’ll both crawl out of bed, maybe into the shower…perhaps into the warmth of a bath, but for now it is simply you, and Jake, and this tranquil bliss.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie

[gretasfallingsky]

professor jake? 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↔️

[hailthegodsong]

QUIET

One Shot ~ Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: When Christmas shopping becomes too overwhelming, Jake takes care of you. A/N: We’re gonna pretend Christmas hasn’t passed and that i’m totally on time for a festive fic.

Content Warnings: Overstimulation, loud noises, bright lights, anxiety, anxiety attack, panic attack, hyperventilation, pet names, comfort, fluff, emotional hurt/ comfort.

𓇢𓆸

The mall was an absolute riot of Christmas cheer. Sparkling lights cascaded from every ceiling fixture and carols blared from unseen speakers. The scent of cinnamon and pine mingled with the faint tang of cardboard, lingering from the backrooms of shops, sorting through the overwhelming influx of Christmas arrivals. 

Jake adjusted his scarf and glanced at you beside him, his expression softening as he took in your wide eyes and rosy cheeks, coloured by the cold.

“What’s the game plan?” he asked, his voice warm and slightly teasing. “Are we attacking this place with military precision or just winging it?”

You laughed, though it sounded a little nervous. “Let’s just start with the gift list and see how it goes. We’ll probably end up winging it anyway.”

Jake grinned, his hazel eyes twinkling. “I like it. A little chaos is needed for Christmas shopping anyway.”

With that, you began your stroll through the mall, weaving through crowds of shoppers. Jake’s hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours naturally. His grip was steady, grounding, and you were grateful for it as the wave of people walking opposite threatened to pull you away in the current. That, as well as the overwhelming noise and lights pressed in on you. The flashing LED displays in store windows, the jingle of bells from a Salvation Army volunteer, the overlapping snippets of conversation. You took a deep breath to ground yourself.

Jake walked you into a store and stopped at a display showcasing an array of novelty socks. “Sam would love these,” he said, holding up a pair with tiny bass guitars printed on them. “And look, these ones have bigfoot’s wearing Santa hats. That's like– perfect,” he exclaimed.

You forced a smile. “Yeah, those are cute.”

Jake tilted his head, his long, dark hair catching the glint of the overhead lights. “You okay, Honey?” he asked, his voice genuine.

“I’m fine,” you answered quickly, adjusting your scarf so that it wasn’t so suffocating. “Just... a lot going on, you know?”

He nodded sympathetically. “It is pretty loud in here, isn’t it? If it gets to be too much, just say the word. We can bail and come back later.”

“Thanks,” you said, squeezing his hand. His calm, quiet nature was one of the things you loved most about Jake. He could make any situation feel lighter, even with a light up santa singing jingle bells in your face as you left a shop full of novelty socks.

You moved on, stopping at a bookstore where Jake eagerly browsed the second hand music section in the back corner, flipping through records with reverence. The quiet atmosphere of the space was gentle, and Jake's enthusiasm was rather infectious. For a while, it distracted you from the sensory overload right outside the door. 

“Okay, I think that's all we’re gonna find in here,” Jake commented, a record tucked under his arm as he took your hand and made his way to the front desk. As you left the store, you were bombarded with the harsh reminder of the noise outside. How many people were here? It seemed like every person in the city had decided to come to this mall on this day to do their Christmas shopping. 

Jake swung the bag back and forth in one hand, the other holding yours tightly as his eyes took in what each store had to offer. 

“Josh’s gonna love this. Swears he’s been looking for it forever. I think he’s convinced it doesn’t exist anymore,” Jake laughed as he peered into the bag again, eyeing the vinyl casing. 

You made a small sound of agrement, jaw tight as you willed yourself to breathe through the anxiety now running through you. Why was it so loud?

“Where next, Honey?” Jake asked, and you glanced up at him in confusion. 

“I thought you had the list?” you questioned. Jake slowed to a stop, and somebody slammed into you as they walked past, seemingly unknowing as they laughed at something their friend had said, the sound piercing your ears. 

Jake took your arm and pulled you away from the current of shoppers and to the edge to the walkway, up against a glass shopfront. A huge, mechanical polar bear activated from inside the window, likely on a motion sensor and detecting your presence, as it began to wave its paw back and forth, flashing LED lights from its face. 

You swallowed harshly, trying to shake the overwhelming motion and noise as Jake stared down at you. 

“I thought you had the list?” he asked, raising his voice over the christmas songs blaring from the speakers and the loud chatter of people as they passed, echoing in the large space.

Your eyes darted to his anxiously, chest feeling a little tight as you realise you must have lost it, “I don't–”

Jake lifted your arm between you and twisted your hand gently so that your palm was facing upward, clenched tightly around the now crumpled piece of paper.

“Oh.” You loosened your palm and unfolded the list. “Sorry.”

He tentatively reached his hand out and brushed a lone piece of hair from your cheek, and tucked it behind the curve of your ear. 

“‘S okay, Honey. You alright over here? We can go home if you’re feeling a little overwhelmed, remember?”

“No, no. We’ve barely been here an hour. I’m okay– really. Just, maybe we could go get some water or something?” you suggested. You really didn’t want to go home. Now that you were there, you may as well have gotten the daunting task done and over with in one go. 

Jake looked at you sympathetically, concern etched into his gentle features as he nodded. 

“Okay, if you’re sure. You just tell me if you want to leave,” he instructed with raised eyebrows. You nodded and took his hand again. 

As you joined the crowd of people again, Jake led you through the mall to the closest food vendor, pulling a bottle of water out of the small fridge and waiting in line for purchase. Glancing at the length of the line, Jake untwisted the cap and handed it to you to drink while you waited. 

You offered him a ‘thanks’ and drank in silence, sipping lightly as your eyes watched people go by. 

You managed to calm yourself a little in the wait, Jake wrapping his arm over your shoulders, the weight like a warm blanket that kept you safe from whatever threatened you in this Christmas overloaded mall. It also helped when you rested the side of your head on his arm, his thick winter coat muffling the overwhelming noises– at least in one ear. 

After paying for the water, and a soft pretzel by Jake’s request, you both returned to your gift list. You thought you had somewhat gotten over the feelings of anxiety and overstimulation, the noises only a mere annoyance and bright lights only marginally irritating your vision as you made your way through Christmas themed shops filled to the brim with shoppers like yourselves. Alas, as the next hour wore on, the crowded aisles and relentless holiday cheer began to take their toll.

Determined not to ruin the day, you pressed on, clenching your teeth as people walked by particularly close, their voices practically shouting into your ears over the christmas music. 

The lights seemed brighter, the music louder. The jostling of strangers felt more intrusive, and the smells— spiced candles, sugary treats, hot pretzels— were overwhelming. Your chest tightened, your breaths coming faster despite your efforts to stay calm. 

“Do you think your mom would like this?” Jake asked, holding up a beach themed snow globe, no doubt picking it as your mother lived by the coast. “Or is it too tacky?”

Before you could open your mouth to respond, a high pitched voice panged next to your ear, making you jolt, and wince a little in discomfort. 

“Excuse me, are you Jake Kiszka? Could we maybe get a picture?” the voice asked, and you turned to see two girls, only a few years younger than you, eyes alight with excitement as they clutched their phones to their chests. 

You forced a smile to your face as Jake said hello. You didn’t mind when fans came to take photos, but in this moment, it was the last thing you needed. The girls gave you a small greeting that you barely heard over the jingle bells tune blasting over the store speakers. You offered to take their photo with Jake, finding difficulty in getting everyone in frame with how congested the space was, the backs of people pressing up against you suffocatingly.

After you’d taken a few photos, Jake sensed your discomfort and kept the conversation light– polite, but nothing like the attention he usually gave his fans, and it wasn’t long before you were alone again. Well, as alone as you could be in a store full of people.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand. “Um, what was the question again?” you asked. As a fitting punctuation to your question, a child in a nearby stroller wailed in a high pitched cry. You blinked, tilting your head and bringing your palm to your forehead. 

Jake began to speak to you, but the words blurred, and your thoughts jumbled, tangled in a mess of bright, neon Christmas lights. Keep it together. You’re fine. It’s just the mall. People do this all the time. Not to mention it had been you who insisted you stayed, so you were in no position to freak out now. 

The child screamed again— sharp, piercing, unrelenting. The sound cut through your head like a knife, shattering your tenuous hold on control. The world tilted, the edges of your vision darkening as panic set in.

You were dimly aware of Jake's hand on your arm in the mess of your awareness, but you were in no position to address it. Chest beginning to heave, you brought your hands to your ears, drowning out the infuriating sound of Mariah Carey as her high pitched voice belted through the shop speakers. 

You were suddenly moving, Jake's arm now wrapped tightly around your waist as he guided you out of the shop and through the crowd with surprising efficiency. It was a good thing you were so close to the main entrance of the mall, as you found yourself quickly emerging into the cold December air, the crispness biting but refreshing after the stifling chaos inside. 

The air cleared your mind momentarily, enough to cue you in on the sound of your ragged breaths, chest heaving as you hyperventilated. Jake hastily led you to sit down on a quiet bench tucked away from the main entrance and crouched in front of you, his hands on your knees.

“Breathe with me,” he said softly, his tone steady and reassuring. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Like this.” He demonstrated, his breaths slow and deliberate.

You tried to follow his lead, but your chest felt tight, like a band was squeezing your ribs. You hesitantly reached for your throat, the red scarf that donned your neck now squeezing you, suffocating. Jake reached up and unwrapped it from your neck, bunching it in his hands as the cold air hit your skin. It was refreshing, and helped to bring you back to the present, but your breaths refused to let up, chest caving with each heave. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you shook your head, frustrated and embarrassed.

“Hey,” Jake said gently, tilting his head to catch your gaze. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just focus on me, alright? Forget the mall, forget everything else. Just me and you.”

His calm presence was like an anchor, and gradually, your breathing began to slow. Jake kept murmuring reassurances, his hands never leaving your knees, keeping you close, but not physically overwhelming you with his touch. When you finally looked up at him, breathing somewhat even, your face flushed and tear-streaked, he gave you a small smile.

“There she is,” he said softly. “Feeling a little better?”

You nodded hesitantly. “Yeah. Thanks. I’m sorry…”

“Stop that,” he said, his tone firm but kind. He straightened a little to reach up and wipe the tears from your cheeks with the heel of this thumb. “You don’t have to apologise. Let’s just get you home, okay?”

You nodded again, grateful beyond words. Jake wrapped an arm around you as you walked to the car, his touch protective but never overbearing. Once inside, he turned on the seat warmers and handed you a bottle of water from the glove compartment, before throwing everything you’d bought that day into the backseats haphazardly.

“Drink this,” he said. “And let me know if you want to talk or just sit in silence.”

You didn’t answer, but you knew you didn’t really need to. The ride was quiet. You rested your head on the door, body twisted in a way that Jake's hand could reach your knee from across the console, rubbing soothing circles onto the skin. You guessed it was as much a comfort for you as it was for him, no doubt worried sick about you. 

By the time you reached home, the tension in your chest had eased somewhat, though you still felt drained. Jake helped you out of your coat and shoes by the door and guided you straight to the couch, where he draped your favorite blanket over your shoulders.

“You stay put,” he said, stroking back hair and kissing your forehead. “I’ll handle everything.”

True to his word, Jake took care of the little things. He first brought you a warm cup of herbal tea to sit with, not boiling so that you could begin drinking from it immediately. Returning to the kitchen, he then made your favorite plain pasta dish, buttered just the way you liked, and brought it to you with a glass of water. 

He settled in beside you on the couch, and pinched a piece of pasta from your bowl. 

“Up to watch something or would you like to just sit in silence for a little bit longer?” he asked, hand at the back of your head as his fingers nimbly graced your scalp through your unruly head of hair. 

You peeked out the living room window to the garden, where the sky was beginning to darken. 

“Maybe we could just get ready for bed? My clothes feel heavy,” you suggested, your voice weaker than you’d intended. 

“Of course, my love.”

Jake guided you into the bedroom with quiet care, his hand resting at the small of your back. He turned on the bedside lamp, its soft glow illuminating the space with a calm, golden light.

“Here we go,” he murmured gently, steering you toward the edge of the bed. “Sit down for a minute, okay?”

You sank onto the mattress, your limbs heavy with exhaustion. Jake crouched in front of you, his hands lightly resting on your knees, hazel eyes searching yours with concern.

“Talk to me,” he said, his tone soft, coaxing. “How’s my girl feeling?”

“I’m just tired,” you whispered, avoiding his gaze. “And embarrassed. I ruined the day.”

Jake frowned, his thumbs brushing slow circles against your knees. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “Please don’t ever think that. I hate the idea of you pushing yourself so hard that you feel like this, especially when I’m right here.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he stopped you gently, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Hey, no excuses. You don’t have to power through anything for my sake, okay? You… you really scared me back there. I’d rather leave a million malls empty-handed than have you feeling like that again.”

“I just… didn’t want to disappoint you,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

Jake’s expression softened even further, and he leaned in, resting his forehead lightly against yours. “You could never disappoint me,” he whispered. “Ever. I mean that. I just want you to be honest with me when it’s too much. You don’t have to carry those feelings alone.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Jake caught it with his thumb, wiping it away as if it had no right to be there. “I’m not mad at you,” he said, his voice warm and full of conviction. “I just care about you too much to see you struggle like that.”

His sincerity melted away the last bit of your resistance, and you nodded weakly. Jake smiled, a soft, reassuring expression that felt like a balm. He straightened and pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment before he went to the dresser, pulling out your coziest set of pajamas and holding them up.

“Here’s the plan,” he said, his tone lighter now, coaxing a tiny smile out of you. “We can either shower off the day first or you get into these pajamas and we crawl straight into bed– whatever you feel like.”

“Is it gross if I say just pajamas?” you asked in a mumble, your face flushing with self-consciousness. 

Jake stepped towards you, shaking his head. “No, it’s not gross. You could never be gross to me, Honey, not even if you tried,” he said gently. “You’re exhausted. Let's just get into bed, ‘kay?”

You nodded and took the neatly folded pajamas from his hands. While you changed, he busied himself with small, thoughtful tasks— adjusting the thermostat to a temperature he knew you liked, fluffing your pillow, even turning down the corner of the blanket on your side of the bed. When you emerged from the bathroom after relieving yourself and brushing your teeth, he had a new, warm mug of tea and a glass of water waiting on the nightstand.

“Tea’s not too hot,” he said as he handed it to you, watching to make sure you took a small sip before setting it down. He didn’t stop there. He gathered your clothes from the floor, folded the throw blanket you’d draped over the armchair earlier, and left briefly to make sure the house was locked up and lights turned off. They were little things, but they added up to a wave of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed.

Sliding under the covers, you sighed, the bed enveloping you in warmth. Jake settled beside you, his arm slipping around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“You up for watching something?” he asked, his voice low and soothing. “Or just quiet for now?”

“Quiet’s good,” you murmured, leaning into him. “Maybe I’ll fall asleep…”

“Good,” he whispered, brushing his fingers through your hair. “That’s the goal.”

As you closed your eyes, you felt Jake shift slightly, tucking the blanket snugly around your shoulders. His hand rested on your back, his touch steady and reassuring.

“You’re okay, Honey,” he murmured. “Whatever you need, I’m right here.”

And with that, the lingering tension from the day began to fade. Wrapped in Jake’s quiet care, you let yourself drift off, the weight of the world easing with each steady breath beside you.

𓇢𓆸

Tag List: @allof--mylove @frogkiszka

Complete the google form here to be added to my permanent taglist for any future fics! (Or let me know any other way you like best)

[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

•My video•

We always talk about Jake making his guitar whine, but I think we need to talk about him making his guitar growl like in the STT intro 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Twenty-Five

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (you know the drill) Fluff, Mild Anxiety, Some sad themes momentarily, A LOT of tears, Jake is in it so the uncomfortably timed jokes are also in it, and it's just painfully cute and sweet and fluffy.

Smut Warnings: Fingering (f receiving) a slight depiction of masturbation (m), sexy phrases being moaned, and last but not least we are practicing safe sex!! (wrap that shit up guys)

Word Count: 7.1k

Summary: After Charlotte leaves the Anniversary Party at the bar, she spends a bit contemplating her choices while she packs and ultimately comes to her decision.

Author's Note: Hiii 🥹

I can't believe this is the last chapter, it feels like we just started this last week. I really hope this is the ending you were rooting for, because it feels very fitting.

I'm going to stick another note at the end to not spoil anything before you read.

Happy Thursday (and Halloween) 🖤

Sea Of Love - Cat Power "Come with me, my love, To the sea, The sea of love."

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“Drive safe, Red.” 

“Will do, Captain.”

The second he walked away from my car, the tears I’d been choking back came out, and unfortunately, I hadn’t stopped the entire drive back to the house to finish grabbing everything, which seemed silly because I could have packed before I went to see him. I spent the whole day trying to decide if I should even go, with breaks where I would just cry because I couldn’t believe that I couldn’t just spit out what happened. 

The way he still insisted on walking me to my car speaks volumes about him, and I really didn’t know what I expected, but I was mentally prepared for him not to want to talk to me after everything. I don’t deserve him by any means. 

I couldn’t stop myself from hugging him. I knew he wasn’t going to try anything because he’s always concerned about whether or not I’m comfortable, and I’m sure he didn’t want to take any chances of getting rejected. 

9:20 p.m.

I pull into the driveway, crying harder as I put my car in park. I don’t want to go home. I should have just stayed there. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to go inside. I set my bag and phone down on a chair in our kitchen, knowing that if I had my phone with me, I’d never get anything packed.  

I wander around the house, silently crying as I grab my things and shove them into my bag. Changing out of my jeans and into some leggings, hoping that maybe being more comfortable will help. Even though I know the only thing that would help right now is him.

Knowing that he came here so we could still spend the night together is making this worse. The way he so happily changed our plans and drove out here. I sit down on the couch, thinking about how he somehow made my catching up on emails more enjoyable. Rewarding me with kisses every time I finished one, I don’t think I’ve ever worked more efficiently than knowing I get to smooch a cute boy every time I hit ‘send.’ 

He was so sweet when I started to fall asleep, wanting to make sure I was comfortable. I was a little surprised when he said he would stay since he wouldn’t be able to check on the bar. Feeling how warm he was when he got into bed with me. Granted, I also was teasing him as he took his pants off. Quietly laughing at the thought, even with tears rolling down my cheeks. 

He always has a way of making things better, even when he isn’t here. When we weren’t together, he’d send me random things he was thinking about throughout his day or asking how my day was going. I don’t think we’ve gone more than a few hours without talking since I called him that night. 

My throat tightened, and I remembered how he reacted to Cass. The way he immediately just pulled me into his arms, letting me take my time to explain. He fully just listened to whatever I had to tell him like he genuinely wanted to know her. I just know that if she could meet him, she would absolutely adore him. Especially considering how he treats me, she would be planning our wedding already. 

I walk through the house one last time to make sure I have everything. I should just go back. My stomach turns at the thought. I don’t even know what I’d say; I’ll just text him tomorrow—shutting the lights off as I walk back towards the kitchen. 

I bring out the bulk of my stuff, shoving it all into my back seat. Quickly walking back inside to grab my bag and lock it up, my chest hurts as I pull the door shut behind me. 

I grab my phone from my bag to check the time, and his name is on my Lock Screen. 

11:02 p.m.

Jacob: hi, just wanted to say thank you again for everything. I don’t know if you’re still driving or not, so don’t feel like you have to reply right away 

Jacob: but I’m still down to keep you company tomorrow, if you are. 🖤

My eyes are full of tears when I laugh—my sweet boy. Dropping my phone into the driver's seat, I stand there with my face in my hands, letting out the sob that had been waiting. I need him. It was like I needed something to tell me that it was the right choice to just go back to him, and that was enough. 

I look up at the moon, “Cass… thank you.” My voice shakes as I say it, but god, it feels good to get it out. “You were right. I needed to find my Scott, and now, I just wish you were here to meet him.”

I have to go get him. 

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My heart races as I drive down the dark roads, waiting until I get a little closer to Portland for more street lamps. But as I’m driving, I swear every song that comes on just makes my mind wander.

Hearing him call me honey for the first time in his office. His arms pulled me in so fast I didn’t have time to think about it. Talking me down or trying to, at least. I felt so safe with him, and I had only met him once before. Something about him was so comforting in that moment, whether it was the way he knew I was about to break and brought me into a quiet space to have my moment. Or the fact that he didn’t let go until I was ready. 

The look in his eyes as he wiped my tears away, gently holding the sides of my face like he thought I would crumble if he added any more pressure. And to think that was just a glimmer of how thoughtful he is. 

I’ve never met a man who just wants to do things like he does. He walked me to my car every night when I was at the bar, opening my door for me like he was straight out of the fifties or something. Always asked me to let him know when I made it home; it was a soft level of protection that I didn’t know I needed. 

Standing there next to the water, the street lamps barely gave us enough light to see each other, but the way his lips looked and how he kept glancing at mine.. I knew I had to take my chance. 

“Is this okay?” 

His smile into me as we kissed made it hard for me not to fall for him. The way he so sweetly giggled against me. Keeping me close to him because it was cold out, but not wanting to stop. Oh, the first of many ‘one more’ kisses. Which always meant another ten minutes trying to escape him, not that I ever really wanted them to end. I’m almost positive that both of us genuinely started contemplating quitting our jobs to hide away together a handful of times. 

Going out of his way to surprise me so I could still go to Salem. Taking a day off, even if I had to badger him a little about not checking in constantly. It was for his own good. It was so adorable how he just happily followed me, looking at all the haunted sites and letting me tell him all the history as we walked around. I suppose it helps that he’s definitely into those types of things, considering the pirate knowledge. 

His sweet face turned red when the girl told us our aura colors were pretty compatible. But I can’t blame her for assuming when he grabbed my hand while she explained them to us. I knew it was because of what she was saying, and he just wanted to make sure I was okay. 

I’ve simply never met a man who understood emotions like he does. I don’t understand how considering he grew up with two brothers, he’s definitely the odd one out of the three. The way he can stay so calm in most situations is beyond me. Even tonight, when I showed up, he seemed nervous for a second, but the moment I said something, he came around. 

I could park right outside the bar because there was nobody out, but I decided to park around the corner so I could mentally prepare. 

Just see if he’s still in the bar, and then if not, he should be at home. I don’t think he’s supposed to see his parents until tomorrow. 

Shutting off the engine, I sit there staring at the sky. Ever since he pointed out the moon that night, I’ve felt comfort in it. Whether or not Cass can hear me, I will keep talking to her through it. I’d like to think she knows. 

I step out, feeling the wind against my skin, shit- it’s cold.  I start walking towards the bar, taking a deep breath before turning the corner. I pulled out my phone one more time, just to make sure he hadn’t said anything while I was driving here. No notifications. 

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11:35 p.m.

 I round the corner, and he’s already standing outside as if he knew I would come back. I see him putting his phone into his pocket and looking down at his boots. It feels surreal to see him for some reason. He finally looks over as I get closer; I can see him trying to fight the smile growing on his face. 

As I walk up to him, I whisper, “Hi.”

“Hey, you,” he whispers back, his voice alone made my eyes well up again. I look down at my feet, hoping to swallow the emotions, but fail miserably. Here goes nothing.

“Um,” I let out. I feel my lip quiver, so I tug it in with my teeth a little. 

His voice was quiet, asking, “What’s wrong?” as he gently tilted my face up to look at him, which only made the tears flow faster.

“I don’t want this to be over, Jacob,” I choke out, pointing between the two of us.  I have cried in front of this man far too many times in the last three weeks.  

 He sweetly wipes the tears before he finally says, “Hun,” Pulling me into him and placing a big kiss against my forehead.  “It doesn’t have to be over.” 

“I just want to be able to kiss you and be with you,“ I ramble out. All of the feelings I’ve been holding back started falling out of me. 

He shakes his head slowly and calmly tells me, “I want that more than you know.” 

“I don’t want to feel like we have to be quiet about it.” 

“We don't have to.” 

“Jake, I just,” I start, my voice sounded a little panicked at this point. “I have stronger feelings for you than I anticipated and—”

He quickly tells me, “I promise those are most definitely mutual, honey.” 

“It scares me a little,” I admit quietly. 

“Hey–” he cuts me off, “I will have you however you’ll let me,” holding my face in his hands, and then he says, “I told you before- whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m interested in anyone else,” I start, “Because I only—.” My brain is moving faster than I can move my mouth while still trying to calm down from crying when he leans in. –Want you.  The most relieving kiss I’ve ever felt; time slowed the second his lips met mine. My hands find their spot on his stomach; just having extra contact with him helps me slow down. 

He pulls away, and his hands are still holding the sides of my face as he looks at me. He looks like he wants to say something, but I watch him swallow hard before he finally caves. I feel like I know what’s coming.  

“Say the word, and I’ll forget about the ‘friends who maybe sleep together' thing,” he whispers. “I would do anything to call you mine.” His face is still so close to mine as we stare at each other for a second in comfortable silence. There is only one right answer in my mind. 

“Please.” 

His lips find mine quickly, smiling into me like a kid on Christmas morning. My heart pounds as we practically relive our first kiss. Not knowing how to stop, giggling as we take turns placing little kisses everywhere. 

“You’re sure you want this?” He asks, his hands still holding my jaw. “Like absolutely positive?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure about something,” I tell him, a small laugh sneaking out. He stares at me for a second before looking up; his eyes close before he shakes his head a few times. His arms fall, sliding around my waist. When he looks back at me, his eyes are glistening. My hands quickly grabbed him, wiping his tears as they finally fell, “Aw, baby.”

“I feel ridiculous,” he giggles, trying to sniff the emotions away.

“I’ve cried enough times in front of you— I think you’ve earned it.” 

He looks up again, letting out a small laugh, and then looks back at me. His hands grabbed mine, holding onto them tightly when his adorable little voice wavered, telling me, “I just really thought I had lost any chance with you.” He breathes in a shaky breath and, on the exhale, says, “And I’m just so happy that I get to keep you to myself now.” A few tears sneak out as he tells me. He really is the most precious man alive. I steal one of my hands back from him, gently wiping his face again. 

We stood there giggling like teenagers when the realization hit me, “I get to say you’re my boyfriend now.” 

“Mhm,” He hums against me. “I’m all yours.” 

Kissing him a few times before giggling against his lips, “Jacob, I’m your girlfriend.. we’re dating.” He just smiles against me, and I can’t stop the excitement from coming out as I bounce back and forth in his arms. “Did you ever think this would have happened?”

“Honey, you have felt like a fever dream to me for three weeks.” He chuckles to himself, “No, I never thought I would be lucky enough to find someone like you.” 

After a few minutes of bliss,  I finally have to come out with the truth, all of them. 

“I want to tell you something,” I tell him. “Well.. actually, a couple of things.” 

“Go for it,” he says; his smile might be permanent. Let me start with the least important thing.

“Cass made me promise that if I found some boy with long hair and nerdy interests, I had to try,” I admit. “I just didn’t know how to handle it when I found you because I haven’t been in a ton of relationships— but you made it so… easy.” 

“I’ve never been more relieved to be a long-haired nerd in my life.” He giggles at himself, kissing my cheek when he mumbles,  “I hope I make her proud.” 

I don’t know how I could cry more at this point, but my voice shakes when I tell him, “Oh, she would have loved you.”

He tugs me back in for a hug; I just snuggle into him for a minute. Naturally, he would say something like that. 

 “What else is there?” He asks quietly. 

“Well..um,” I hesitated. Just spit out, Char. “I have to go home, like up-north-home, or I’m going to get fired.” 

His eyebrows pull together, letting out a small laugh before finally asking, “You? How would you get fired?” 

“I sort of have been lying to my boss to be .. here,” I tell him, dodging his eye contact. It’s quiet for a beat before he finally speaks up.

“Wait– is that why you were so upset?” 

I nod, “Mhm..he called when I was at Quinn’s, and I had been freaking out since because I was .. scared to tell you.” 

“Oh, hun. Fuck, I’m so sorry,” his smile fades quickly.

“No, I’m sorry,” I tell him, grabbing his hands, “You didn’t know, and I was acting like a dick to you.”

 “I still wish I hadn’t panicked so fast,” he says, the look on his face making my heart hurt. “I’d never say anything like that to you ever again. I thought I’d lost you as soon as it came out.” 

The tears prick my eyes as he tells me. It makes even more sense now– he thought his heart was about to get shattered. The thought of not keeping him around had never crossed my mind; I would have figured out a way. 

“I knew you didn’t mean it, baby,” I told him. “I forgave you the second you started crying.” 

He pulls my hands up, kissing across my knuckles, letting out a long breath. Looking back at me, “So, if you have to go back home, what do we want to do?” 

The way he says ‘we’ could make me cry. 

“Well,” I start. “I don’t mind driving here. And I typically only work during the week, so I could come to you right after I clock out on Fridays.” 

“I will never say no to that,” he tells me. Quickly following up with, “But I can also come to you during the week since the bar isn’t as busy.” His hands gently squeezed mine.

“Are you going to be able to handle not being here?” I tease him. 

“Oh, shut up,” he laughs; oh, I love that laugh. “I’m gonna need to get over it at some point. At least I’ll have you as a distraction.” 

I just hum back, “Mhmm.” 

“We’ll make it work, hun,” he says; he sounds so sure of it. 

“You really don’t mind?” 

“Not at all,” he tells me, “I’ll do whatever I need to if it means getting to be with you.” 

My hands hold the sides of his neck as I kiss him a few times, whispering, “You’re unreal.” Enjoying the butterflies as he giggles against my lips, finding it increasingly more difficult to focus every time I kiss him. I need to tell him first, and then we can have fun. I get a little chill just thinking about getting to spend the night with him after this. FOCUS CHAR. 

“Um, there’s still more,” I spit out. “I sort-of-maybe-kind of lied to you.” Kissing his cheek a couple of times before looking at him with an uncomfortable smile. 

He lets out a laugh, “Really just getting it all out there, are we?” 

“I can’t start a relationship with you and not just tell you all of this!” 

“Whatever you need to do, hun,” he laughs. “Go on.” 

“I didn’t need to be here at all,” I start. “Melody could have just done everything in like a day and your paperwork had been sitting in my car already settled for the past two weeks.”

“I know.”

“What– You know?” I stared at him, my eyebrows pulled in immediately, wholly lost in how he knew what I was doing.  

“Of course, I know,” he giggles. “Who do you think helped Josh get certified, honey?”  

My mouth hangs open for a second, “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Well, honestly— it took a few nights of you being here for me to realize, but also,” he laughs, his hands finding mine. “You really think I’m gonna out the most beautiful girl on wanting to be around me–” he pauses, looking at me with his eyebrows raised before shaking his head with a quiet,  “Absolutely not.” 

I can’t get anything out before he quickly adds, “I honestly had just forgotten about it when I hired Mel, so when you asked, I just assumed it was about to screw me more.” 

“Wait— so, you just.. let me interrupt your schedule for like two weeks to vaguely help train Mel?” I ask quietly. 

He nodded quickly at that, “Gladly.” 

“But.. that’s so..” I hesitate.

“I think it paid off,” He lightly tips my chin up to meet his gaze, “Don’t you?” Leaning in and leaving a small kiss on my lips. 

I can’t stop the giggle that sneaks out when I whisper, “Think you’re so smooth, huh?” 

“Is it working?” 

“I mean, you got me,” I laugh. “So, I guess I’m gonna have to say yes.”

Taking every chance I have to kiss him, like I’ve been deprived for so long. A bit dramatic of me, but how am I supposed not to kiss him at this point? 

He shyly asks, “Do you still need to leave?” 

“I can leave in the morning,” I tell him. “They can survive a couple of hours tomorrow without me.”

“So.. you’ll stay with me?” He asks, biting his lip subtly. 

I giggle at how cute he is before whispering, “Yes, baby.” 

“Thank the lord,” he lets out, pulling me into him. 

My arms slid around his neck as snowflakes decorated us slowly. Pressing kiss after kiss onto his face and lips, dimly lit by the street lamp nearby.  Fighting the urge to cry again, holding the back of his neck, I kissed his cupid's bow; the tears that had been threatening to fall made their escape. Pulling away, I start to lean back so I can compose myself again. Seeing the tip of his nose is red, and I can’t shake the chill in the air.  Stopping this moment feels wrong, but I cave.  

“Can we go inside? It’s freezing,” I asked, scooting a little closer to him. I traced my finger down his nose, tapping its tip a few times. 

“In a minute—” 

With no hesitation, his arm wraps around my waist, pressing me up against him. His free hand quickly wipes the tears away from my cheeks. I watch his eyes dance between my eyes and my mouth like he always does. His hands found my jaw, and just like our first kiss, he lingered a breath away before he whispered, “One more.” 

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The moment his bedroom door shuts, I can’t stop myself. My hands pulled his face to mine, and his lips pressed into mine like we hadn’t seen each other in months. Our breathing is already heavy, and we’ve hardly made it past the threshold. 

“I know I told you, but” he pauses to kiss me. “I’m so sorry for everything, and I promise—never again.” He litters my face with little pecks. 

I slide my hands into his, pulling him towards his bed until I feel the frame hit the back of my knees. Tilting my head slightly as I lean into him, kissing him again. 

“No, I’m sorry,” I tell him quietly. “I shouldn’t have lied to you— about any of it.” He leans forward, pressing his lips against my forehead a few times. 

Sitting back on his bed, I grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him to me. Both of us smiled into each other; I couldn't stop myself from holding his jaw. 

“Move back for me, honey.”

 I never want him to call me anything else. I move myself up his bed, laying back on his pillow. He follows suit, watching his necklace swing as he crawls over me, making my mouth water. 

The feeling of his body pressed to mine when I slid my arms around his neck, pulling him against me in a hug. Nothing could have stopped me from kissing the side of his neck a few times. 

“This feels fake,” I tell him quietly, letting out a small giggle. 

He kisses the side of my head before pulling back to look at me, “It does feel different.” Tucking the hair behind my ear as he just stared at me, the slight smile on his lips. 

His eyes gazed down for a second before meeting mine again when he leaned in, his lips finding my bottom one. Every kiss felt more desperate until my hands found their way into his hair. I could see his chest moving from how heavy his breath was. 

His hips shift against me, and it sends a little wave of pleasure through me, letting out a small ‘mmm’ into his mouth, and I can feel the smirk on his face.

He rolls his hips into me again, pulling another quiet moan out of me. I grab his bottom lip gently with my teeth, giggling as I let it go. His eyes are still closed, but that lethal smile of his beams at me. 

“Hi, baby,” I whisper. I felt butterflies when he finally opened his eyes to look at me. 

“Mmm.. honey,” he mumbled back. His hand slid down to the waistband of my leggings, hooking his finger into it. “May I?” 

I lean up, kissing him slowly before telling him, “Please.” His hands waste no time, sliding my leggings off and tossing them on the floor. He lightly drags his fingers up the inside of my thighs, letting his right hand timidly run over the damp fabric. 

“Oh?” He says quietly, popping an eyebrow up at me. 

It’s hard not to blush when he’s hovered over me, looking the way he does. Sliding the fabric over, he rests his hand on me for a minute as he kisses my cheek. 

I feel his finger as he teases me, only for a second before letting it slip into me. Even just his middle finger alone makes me fall apart. Slowly pumping it into me, making my body tingle with every time he grazes that one spot.

“You’re so pretty.” 

I let out another ‘mmm,’ watching his eyes light up at the sound. He starts moving his hand a little faster, and the way his palm is pushing against my clit is making my head spin. 

Snaking my hands down, I unbutton the rest of his shirt. Good lord— he’s so fine.. wow I’m so fucking lucky. Moving to undo his pants, when he giggles softly. 

“Is that what you want?” He whispers, and even hushed, his voice makes me melt. 

I nod a few times, “Please, baby.” I pulled the zipper on his jeans as far as I could reach before just letting my hand run over him.  

Watching him slide his shirt and jeans off, I swear I can feel my pupils dilate. I’ve never been so attracted to a man in my life. He leans back over me, in just his tight boxers, feeling my thighs tense at the sight. 

I just want to touch him constantly, letting my hands run over his shoulders before moving to his chest. His skin is always so warm and soft, and it takes all my willpower not to kiss every inch of him. 

I’m still not used to the way his hair will brush against me when we’re in positions like this. But— he is so sexy when he pushes it out of his face, flipping it to one side. Or pulling it back before he goes down on me like he did the night we were drunk. I hope he knows how gorgeous he really is. 

The way his eyes light up when he slides my sweater off will never get old. He’s always so gentle with everything, even when he slides my bralette over my head. His hands so softly grab at my tits, grazing his thumbs over my nipples. It’s honestly really adorable how much he likes that they’re pierced. 

Littering kisses over my collarbones and then slowly working his way down until he hovers over one of my nipples, letting his tongue lead the kiss. Watching his plump lips wrap around it, a man surely doesn’t need lips like his, but lord, am I glad I’m the one he’s putting them on. It never seems like it could get better, and then he moves to the other side, and I get to relive it. 

He sits up after a minute and reaches over to his nightstand, pulls out a condom, and quickly sets it next to me. Leaning back down, he starts peppering my neck and collarbones with little pecks, running his hand up my side. 

“Babe, you know you don’t have to—” I whisper, glancing over at it. 

He holds my chin, giving me a slow kiss and giggling to himself as he pulls away, finally saying, “Hun, as much as I’d love not to— I’m not taking any more risks right now.” I can’t stop the laugh that sneaks out of me. 

“Plus, this is easier to clean up since Josh is down the hall,” he mumbles quickly, that sweet little smirk of his coming back. Letting my fingers lightly drag down his sides and over his hip bones as I look up at him. 

He slides his boxers off, kneeling between my legs. He starts to stroke himself as he looks at me. My jaw falls open at the sight. 

“What?” He asks through a laugh. You’re so fucking hot. Not only am I able to see his chest and stomach in front of me, but the way his arm is flexing as it moves and how his hair falls around his face when he looks down. 

My brain stalls trying to answer because seeing how his hand is wrapped around his cock has me thoroughly captivated. He grabs the condom, ripping the foil, and quickly rolling it down the length of him; I’ve never seen a man make that sexy, but there’s a first for everything. 

He leans back down, lining himself up with me and slowly pushing in. We both let our little moans at the feeling. He bottoms out in me and just sits there for a second, looking at me with his hands cradling my head, when he whispers, “I missed you.” 

“Oh,” slips out. I pull him in, kissing his face as he starts to move his hips. Gently rocking them into me, fully engulfed in the moment, we take turns pressing kisses into each other. This kind of sex feels different. 

Being able to kiss him and run my hands all over him, just enjoying the feeling of being so close. Holding eye contact while he pushes himself into me slowly, like he’s savoring every second of it. My heart pounds as we look at each other.

He starts to move a bit quicker, and I’m fighting every urge to moan, knowing we aren’t home alone. But nothing could stop me from letting out a quiet, “Harder, babe.” 

Watching his lips curl up, he leans forward, kissing my forehead before sitting up on his knees. His hands wrap around my hips, pulling me closer to him. Thrusting hard into me, he slides one hand over, lightly toying with my clit. His mouth hung open slightly, necklace bouncing off his chest, that small trail of hair on his stomach, his hands touching me; the sight of him alone brings me closer. 

A moan sneaks out; my eyes go wide at him. 

“Does that feel good, honey?” He says, his voice lowered; his voice alone makes me wet. 

I nod, pulling my lip in with my teeth. I tap his hip a few times so he’ll stop. He looks at me with his eyebrow raised.

“Lay down, babe,” I tell him. He moves back as we trade spots, except he leans against his headboard. His hands guiding me onto his lap, feeling so full as I sit on his cock. Taking a second to adjust to the position, I lean into him, letting my lips hover over his ear when I whisper, “You fit so perfectly inside me.” His delicious little groan as the goosebumps flood his skin. 

I start grinding against him, feeling my own orgasm creeping closer, letting quiet whimpers out next to his ear, kissing down his neck. Anything to shower him in affection because he deserves it. 

“Char,” he mumbles. “If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last long.” 

Resting my forehead against the side of his head, I whisper, “Touch me.” His hand snakes down, rubbing my clit quickly, pulling some quiet moans out of me. I sit up, and my hips start to lift off of him, bouncing slightly. The angle of being on top makes him hit every right spot as I move. My body is starting to feel warm as his hand keeps rubbing tight little circles. 

“Jake,” I breathe out, my hand grabbing the headboard behind him.  “Oh my god.  Baby, I'm gonna—.”

His eyes light up, and I can feel how wet I am as I come down on him, over and over. He finally whispers, “Fuck me, honey.”

I’m seconds from losing it, and my body is tingling; I can feel the knot in my stomach, and even my nipples are peaked when he sends me over the edge, quietly moaning out, “Oh, my sweet girl. Wanna feel you come for me.”

It hits me as I come down on him, my legs refusing to lift me back up as my head drops back in pleasure. His hand slowed and joined the other, holding my sides to support me. 

I lean into him, tucking my face into his neck, feeling our chests rise and fall together. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close. 

“Hold on tight,” he mumbles, so I slide my arms around his neck quickly. Sitting up, he holds me against him with one arm, flipping us over. Making sure not to knock my head against the headboard, he sets me down carefully. 

He leans into my ear, giggling, “This is gonna last like two seconds.” His hips start thrusting into me; he locks his arms behind my knees to hold them up. Driving himself into me quickly, his eyebrows pulled together as his mouth started to open slightly. 

“Mmm, Jake,” I moan quietly, knowing it’ll only help him. “God, you feel so good.” Watching his face get a little red at the praise, his hips move a little faster, he's gotta be so close. I pull his face down to mine, hovering my lips over his, whispering, “Come on, baby. I’m all yours.” 

I can see him suck in a breath before he lowers himself, tucking his face in close to mine as his hips start to struggle. His little jagged breaths next to me when he lets out a small “fuck.” His sweet face presses into mine, letting his lips rest on my cheek, lazily leaving little kisses on me while I’m just running my hands along his back, letting him have his moment to recover as he does for me. 

“Char,” he whispers after we have been lying there for a minute.

I turned my face towards him, “What?” 

“I’m so.. happy,” he says. “I can’t believe I get to call you mine, finally.” 

I run my hand down the back of his head, “I’m happy too.” Holding him close for a second, it feels like I could cry just lying here with him. I can’t fight the giggle that comes out when I tell him, “Let’s go take care of ..that.. we have a night of cuddling to make up for, Sir.” Giving him a little double pat on his ass that makes him laugh. 

“You’re right,” he giggles, moving off of me. I slide out of bed, standing up, and before I can grab anything to pull on, his hands grab my hips. 

“What are you-“ I start to ask until I feel his lips against my ass. He sucks in gently, almost nibbling on my skin for a second before pressing another small little peck against it. 

“Told you I didn’t need to try that hard,” he says, shooting a wink at me as I look down at him. 

My jaw just falls open for a second, glancing down at the small bruise that’s forming. Something about him doing that lit a small fire in me. 

“Um,” I let out. 

He just smiled at me as he stood up, “What?” 

“Since when have you liked doing that?” 

“You like that, huh?” His hands slid around me, giving me chills. “Why don’t you stay here? I’ll bring something back to clean you up.” He mumbles, kissing the side of my head. 

“Well, hurry up,” I giggle. “We have new things to discuss when you get back.” My eyebrows pull together for a second as I tell him. 

I tap his phone to see the time when I’m caught off guard by his Lock Screen. When did he..? There sat a photo of me from our day in Salem, and I felt my eyes start to tear up over him again. He is absolutely everything. 

He’s only gone for a couple of minutes, wandering back into his room, only wearing his little boxer briefs. I’m never going to complain about that. It makes me happy that he’s already comfortable enough with me to do it. 

I sit up to take the towel from him, but he just holds it away from me, shaking his head.

“Absolutely not,” He tells me, fighting a small laugh when he says it. “I can take care of you. You’re my girlfriend now; let me have this.” He kneels on the floor, pulling me to the edge of the bed. 

 “So.. when you did it before was because..?” 

His face starts turning red at the question, his little smirk as he clears his throat, trying to avoid it. Just quietly making sure everything is clean; he really is so cute sometimes. 

“Oh, you have to tell me now. You can’t get all shy on me,” I tease him. 

He looks up at me with those dumb brown eyes, “Definitely wasn’t because you were already mine.. in my head.” 

“Ooohhh,” I coo, gently holding the sides of his face and placing a little kiss on the tip of his nose. Giving him a slow wink when I tell him,  “Your secret is safe with me.” 

I can’t describe the feeling I get when I watch him. Even with things as simple as him picking up a few pieces of clothes from his floor, I just want to stare at him as he does mundane tasks. Maybe it’s because of the slight chance he’ll glance over and shoot me one of those lethal smiles. Sometimes, he just looks at me, and my heart cartwheels. I’ve never felt like this about anybody I’ve dated. 

My heart pounds as I sit here, watching him grab a sweatshirt for me from his closet. He turns around to hand it to me with that soft smile on his lips, a loose strand of hair falling into his face. I can’t help but admire his chest and stomach as he stands in front of me. But nothing prepared me for the look in his eyes when I reached out to take it from him. 

I love you. 

I feel the heat rush into my face at the thought. Is that crazy? I take the sweatshirt from him, but I don’t break eye contact until I pull it over my head, flipping my hair out from it. He’s still staring at me, which makes my whole body heat up. 

I can’t help but laugh out, “What?” 

“You,” he says. 

My eyebrows raise, “What about me?”

He slides into bed, facing me, and grabs my hands. His eyes looked all over before saying, “I don’t want to say too much.” 

I squeeze his hands a couple of times, telling him, “You’re never too much for me.” The look in his eyes changed when I said it. Almost like they softened a bit, and the corners of his lips turned up, we sat there quietly for a moment. 

“Are you okay?” I cave, asking him as he looks down at our hands. His thumbs run over the backs of my hands. 

He nods, his eyes moving back up to meet mine, the smile is still there. “I’m more than okay.”

“What is it then?” I move closer to him. He seems comforted whenever we’re touching.

He takes a deep breath, “I just want to make sure it’s clear that I still mean it when I say ‘whatever you’re comfortable with,” pausing for a second, “I never want to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured into anything.” 

“I will tell you if anything is too much,” I tell him, “but I promise that I don’t think you could scare me away, babes.” 

His sweet little smile at the pet name, “Is that a challenge?” 

Both of us giggled at him, trying not to be loud since it was late. Sitting here with him, just talking and laughing, feels so natural with him. 

“This is nice,” I tell him quietly. 

He just looks at me, wishing I could hear what he was thinking. His arm slides around my waist, pulling me into him as he falls into the pillows. Trying not to laugh too loudly as he peppers my face with kisses, holding me hostage in his arms. Everything with him feels like a dream. 

We finally settled into bed, and I’m curled up against him. Laying there in the quiet, it hit me that he was already outside when I got here. He wasn’t smoking.. I can’t stop myself from finally asking, “Why were you outside?”  

“What do you mean?”

I prop myself up on my elbow to look at him, “When I got here, you were already out there?” 

“Oh,” He looks over at me with a soft smile, gently reaching out and pulling me in close. His lips landed on mine gently, letting a little exhale out mid-kiss like it was what he really needed at the moment. Pulling back to look at me, his hand still holding my jaw, letting his thumb run along my cheek. The look in his eyes had me falling in love with him all over again— and then he whispered, “I was waiting for you to come home.” 

My eyes well up as I look at him. Oh, I really do love you. I softly wipe my thumb across his lip, leaning in close to him. 

“I’ll always come home to you, Jacob,” I whisper. Watching his eyes light up, and just before he kissed me, he quietly let out the two words that changed everything. 

“Oh, honey.”

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Author's Note Part 2 :

😭🖤 my heart is so full. I'm so happy that you finally got to see them fall in love. I can't wait for you to see what else is in store for The Caravel Tavern Series. But please know, I'll keep writing Jake & Char as long as you want to read about them. 🖤

Love you guys so much xoxo

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Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

Sam & Willa : Sparrow Of The Dawn

Josh & Quinn : Amongst The Stars

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"We've got TWO cats✌️! They're both Bombay Cats -they're BLACK ☝️. One's a boy🫴, one's a girl🫳, -they're SIBLINGS 🤲👏. 👉Pirate and Sparrow👈. Very cute 😎."

[sirjaketkiszka]

Jake One Shot: Attitude Adjustment

Some things call for punishment.

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Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6,241

Warnings: 18+!!, sexual content, horny!reader, bratty!reader, the pet name "sweetheart," slight grinding, slight public inappropriate touching, angry!Jake, rough!Jake, oral m!receiving, face-fucking, hair-pulling, gagging, oral f!receiving, fingering, a bit of edging, orgasm denial, spanking, taunting/mocking, unprotected PIV sex, begging, light degradation, choking, creampie, aftercare, a hint of fluff, and of course, mediocre writing.

Disclaimer: apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

Jake Kiskza One Shot Masterpost

A/N: I heavily suggest listening to Deftones while reading. Enjoy ;)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Once satisfied with your work, you pucker your lips in the large bathroom mirror after painting them with clear gloss. You examine your appearance; a mini skirt rests just below the curves of your ass, paired with your favorite top, with black eyeliner smudged across your waterline. Josh is expecting you and Jake to come over relatively soon for a “welcome back” get-together, hosted by himself, of course. And with the tour's first leg being over, the band is home for a few weeks– something you and Jake had already taken advantage of earlier this morning. 

“Did you miss me?” Jake’s husky morning voice rang in your ears as he thrust into you from his spooning position, your leg hooked over his own with your back flush against his chest. Heavy breaths caused his chest to heave into your upper back while your lower back arched, your head pressing against his shoulder while his lips grazed the curve of your ear. “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Jake, I missed you so much.” Your voice was hoarse, sleep still intertwined heavily in your breathless moans. You missed mornings like this and hated being away from him for so long– you both figured you’d get the most out of the short break. 

Flashes of the memories cause your vision to blur and thighs to rub subconsciously, your eyes zoning out and keeping you from noticing Jake’s sudden presence. Walking up behind you, his warmth engulfs your backside. The front of his body molds against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder as he smiles at you through the mirror. 

“Almost ready?” His sweet voice pulls you to lock eyes with him through the reflection, your gaze focusing solely on him. 

“Just about.” Smiling back, you push your hips back against him, yearning for his touch again. You can’t help but notice the strained noise that catches in the back of his throat when you do, making you fight the urge to plaster on a devilish grin. 

“You look beautiful,” He whispers while bringing up a hand to sweep away the hair from your neck, placing soft kisses along the exposed skin. His hips absently grind into you as his nose grazes your skin, his lips dragging and leaving open-mouth kisses along the sensitive flesh. Tilting your head to the side, your eyes flutter close, your lips partially opening to let soft breaths pass. 

His hands rest on your hips, holding you in place while his erection grows against your ass. You aren’t entirely sure if you have enough time, but God, you don’t care. Josh will understand if you show up late, right?

“Jake–” When you whisper his name, he pulls away from your neck, his eyes trained on the side of your face.

“Tell me what you want.” His warm breath rushes along your neck, sending small huffs with every accentuated syllable. 

“You.” He nearly groans at the single word muttered from your lips as he pushes harder into you, holding you against the bathroom counter. Wandering hands leave your hips, traveling along the curve of your waist and plastering themselves across your stomach and ribs, eventually settling on the hills of your breasts. He squeezes them gently, resuming his peppered kisses along your neck while his words vibrate against you.

“Didn’t get enough this morning, did you?” His voice borders on taunting.

“Never.” 

“Neither did I.” His confession is followed by one of his hands carefully wrapping around the front of your neck, and the other moving from your breast to the bottom of your skirt. Slowly hiking the stretchy material up your thighs, his fingers graze the heated bare skin and your eyes shoot open to look at him; his hand wrapped around your throat holds you still while the pads of his fingers caress the moistened fabric of your underwear. He hums in approval when feeling your arousal, just seconds away from giving you what you want–

Buzz buzz

His phone in the back pocket of his worn jeans vibrates, prompting him to pull his hands away from you to grab it. You nearly let out a whine of protest while the remaining feeling of his warmth disappears from your neck and your skirt falls back into place. Turning to face him, he frowns at his phone, clearly just as upset as you are. 

“Who is it?” You ask eagerly, attempting to ignore the dull heartbeat between your legs.

“It’s Josh,” He sighs, “He wants to know when we’ll be there– I guess everyone else is already there.” Sliding his phone in his back pocket, he gives you a sympathetic smile and leans toward you, kissing your scrunched forehead softly. His hands instinctively rest on your waist, and he chuckles when he sees the slight pout on your features, “I’m sorry, baby, but we have to go.” 

“It’ll be quick, I promise,” Trying to reason with him, your pointer fingers hook themselves into his belt loops and pull his hips flush against yours. His bulge is straining in the confines of his jeans, and you know it pains him to stop, “Please?” 

“No time, sweetheart. Don’t wanna be late.” While he turns you down with a subtle shake of his head, disappointment settles in your gut. 

“Fine.” Throwing your head back with an exaggerated groan, you release his belt loops and step around him to finish getting ready. His body turns to follow your movements, silently watching as you bend over to slip your shoes on. Clearing his throat, his eyes settle on the peek of your underwear as your skirt moves up your thighs. 

“Will you behave?” You smirk at the slight uncertainty in his voice while he attempts to keep his restraint. Standing up straight and slowly walking toward him, you drag your hands up his stomach to his broad chest, the muscles beneath your fingertips flexing with the tantalizing movement. You lean in, your lips ghosting over his while he parts them, waiting.

“You know I will.” Your hushed words pour along his parted lips, and he’s flustered when you pull away. 

“Good.” He swallows thickly, his eyes blinking rapidly to keep his composure, “I’ll give you what you want after dinner, okay?” 

“I’m counting on it.”

If only you had known how long dinner was actually going to last. Josh is already on his tenth story about the tour and shows no signs of stopping. Usually, you’d be all ears because you love listening to him talk, but you’re growing antsy; your thighs clench beneath the dining room table, the heat of Jake’s palm on your bare knee only adds to your growing arousal, and your mind wanders to what awaits when you get home. When you shift in your seat, Jake’s hand twitches on your knee, and he glances over at you. 

“You okay?” He asks quietly, low enough for only you to hear. 

“M’fine.” You flash a close-mouth smile to him, bringing your attention back to Josh and everyone else at the table. Sam and Danny listen intently, laughing along with Josh and adding any missed details to the stories he shares. Dinner has since withered away from the plates, drinks gone dry in cups, and you’re hoping that means it’s coming to an end soon. 

“So, how about some dessert?” Josh claps his hands together, finishing his previous story and standing from his chair at the end of the table. Everyone, including Jake, simultaneously agrees with murmured phrases of “absolutely,” “sounds lovely,” and “of course.” When you don’t respond, Josh pauses, squinting at you, “And you?” 

“Oh! Um– yeah, that sounds good.” Plastering on an eager smile, Jake peers over at you when Josh leaves the dining room, bringing Danny and Sam with him for assistance. 

“What’s wrong?” His tone is genuine, and you feel silly for your pure desperation, “You seem off.” His thumb absently rubs circles on your knee, and the feather-light touch travels up your inner thigh, straight to your aching core. This is torture.

“Just eager to get home, that’s all.”

“Oh,” A smug smirk pulls the corners of his lips, flashing his teeth into a full-on shit-eating grin, “Patience, sweetheart, we’re almost done here.” 

“I have none.” You whine, resting your hand on his, squeezing tightly. Sliding his hand from your knee, you let his palm graze the plush flesh of your thigh until his fingers rest just centimeters from your clothed cunt. A shaky inhale pierces his lungs when he feels the heat radiating from between your legs, his hand gripping your thigh to keep still. 

“Be good.” He rushes out when his brothers return holding bowls of ice cream, setting them down on the placemats before you. His hand remains on your thigh, his fingers slightly twitching, kneading deeper into your skin. 

The storytelling resumes while you pick away at your ice cream, eventually coming to regret placing Jake’s hand so close to where you desire him most. Jake seems to be heavily amused by the effect his simple touch has on you, his lips twitching into a smirk each time you squirm with a subtle squeeze of his hand. Two can play that game, you decide.

Mirroring the position of his hand, yours rests just below the bulge in his pants, your pinky grazing the rough fabric of his jeans. His spoon nearly drops from his hand at the sudden intrusion, and his eyes shift toward you, an innocent smile spreading on your lips. You know this is risky and highly inappropriate, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Months without Jake proved to be extremely difficult; creating an insatiable problem not even your hand could fix. 

Removing his hand from your thigh, he grips the table’s edge, his fingertips turning white from the force. You turn to listen keenly to Sam’s talking, your hand now traveling up and palming Jake’s hardening bulge. His hips softly buck into your hand, making a quiet sound reminiscent of a choked groan mix into the clearing of his throat. 

“You okay, Jake?” Josh’s voice breaks through Sam’s story, and everyone turns to look at Jake, including you. His face is flushed and his eyes wide while heat creeps up his neck, a result of you stroking his clothed erection underneath the security of the table. 

“Yep.” He grunts out, discreetly reaching down and gripping your wrist, halting your movements, “I think it’s time we head home, though.” 

“I suppose,” Josh sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes, but you know he’s only joking, “Let me walk you both out.” Jake shoots up from his chair while your hand falls from his lap, and you follow his movements, carefully standing from your seat and sharing goodbyes with Sam and Danny. 

The twins exchange pleasantries while Josh walks the two of you to the door; Jake thanks him for the meal and having you over while Josh thanks the both of you for coming. It’s a relatively routine goodbye, one you’ve seen them do plenty of times, and you’re eager to get out the door. 

As soon as the front door is shut behind you, Jake grabs your wrist and swiftly walks toward the car, dragging you behind him. 

“Jake, wait–”

“No talking.” His tone is austere and cutting, making you close your mouth immediately, your feet stumbling beneath you while you struggle to keep up. His demeanor has changed completely; darkness looms over his stature as he treks down the long driveway, his calloused fingertips digging into you, but never firm enough to cause you any discomfort. 

When he opens the passenger door, you quickly get in and flinch when he slams the door shut. Your eyes follow him as he moves briskly to round the front of the car, swinging the driver’s side door open and plopping into the seat, wasting no time to start the engine. 

“Jake, I’m sorry–”

“What did I say?” His harsh voice cuts you off. 

The car ride is eerily silent, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, white-knuckling the steering wheel. You avoid looking at him, only focusing on the blurred view that speeds past the passenger window. A pitch-black canvas paints the sky with speckles of twinkling stars and rough brush strokes of vanishing clouds— the only definitive outline is of the towering trees littered along the dimly lit road. You know what’s coming once you get home, and you can’t help but feel a little… excited. 

It’s not long before the car pulls into the driveway and he puts it in park, moving with haste. You wait impatiently while he exits the vehicle, walks around the hood, and opens the passenger door for you. Grabbing his extended hand and stepping out, you follow closely as his legs stride to the front door, his long fingers firmly intertwined with yours. 

Once the door is open, he pulls you inside, shutting it behind you and releasing your hand. Parting your lips to speak, he interrupts you again.

“Go to the bedroom.” His gruff voice cuts through the suddenly thick air of your shared home, and you nod, turning in the direction of the stairs and treading up the wooden steps. Your heavy footsteps are followed by deep thuds, Jake’s own mimicking them just seconds behind. Looking over your shoulder, he keeps a distance of a few feet, his lust-crazed eyes trained on you. Anticipation wraps around your torso, making you pick up the pace to get to the bedroom quicker, and when you cross the threshold, you immediately turn around, waiting for an instruction of any sort.

The stern look on his face is very telling, and you know exactly what happens next. His thick eyebrows are set in an irritated scowl, and his deep maroon lips are naturally downturned into a frown. His pointed glare pierces through you, his eyes void of any empathy, pure vexation taking its place. He steps closer once he shuts the bedroom door, audibly locking it while holding your gaze. Standing toe-to-toe with him, you cross your arms over your chest, your chin held high, challenging him. 

“What did I say about behaving?” His tone is concerningly calm, and a single chill prompts the thin hairs on your arms and the back of your neck to perk up, leaving minuscule bumps in their wake. He slowly blinks while addressing you, his body nearly vibrating with pent-up frustration, clearly struggling to keep his composure. Jake usually can keep his cool, but the only times he really struggled was when you pushed his buttons– on purpose, of course– which is exactly what you’re doing now. 

“I don’t know,” You shrug innocently, your voice reflecting naivety, “What did you say? Maybe I wasn’t listening.” You’re certainly playing a perilous game, considering you don’t always reach the desired outcome. But, you don’t know till you try it. 

“I could’ve sworn you were.” Tilting his head, his hand comes up to grip your chin between his pointer finger and thumb as he examines your features, “What did you say… ‘You know I will.’” He tsks, shaking his head disappointedly, “Your words, sweetheart.” 

“I don’t recall.” You answer sarcastically, your eyes boring into his, watching metaphoric flames in his eyes rage at your persistent attitude.

“Get on the bed.” There’s a rigorousness to his words, his teeth baring as he enunciates them and drops his hand from your chin. You back away from him, the bed only mere feet from you, but you hesitate when the edge of the mattress hits the back of your knees. He leisurely walks toward you, his shoulders heaving slowly with the heaviness of his deep breaths. His eyes are clouded with sin; lust expanding the darkness of his pupils, causing them to melt into his chocolate brown irises. “I said,” His voice is nearly a growl as his hands rest on your shoulders, carefully shoving you down to sit, “Get on the fucking bed.” 

A small oof leaves your lips when you sink into the plush mattress, the bedframe quietly creaking from the force. Looking up at him through your lashes, his hooded eyes peer down at you as his hands grip the sides of your face, tilting your head back. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks with faux solace, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes.” You admit, the simple word rolling off your tongue with a shaky breath. 

“If you say so.”

His hands leave your face to fumble with the buttons of his shirt, undoing the few that are actually buttoned, and pulling the cotton garment off his shoulders and arms. His upper body lays bare to you, his chest rising and falling with every breath, wavy hair framing his exposed neck, and his stomach clenching from the sudden coolness of the bedroom. Your mouth waters at the ungodly sight, watching as he toys with the button and zipper of his jeans, eventually pulling the waistband of them and his boxers down just enough. 

You swallow thickly when coming face to face with his erection; the angry red tip leaks precum dripping down the shaft and traveling along the most prominent vein. When glancing up at him, a cocky smirk is displayed on his lips, expectant and waiting. 

“Go ahead, sweetheart.” The once wholesome pet name now spills venom. Leaning forward, you keep your eyes on him as your tongue hangs from your lips, collecting the precum from his sensitive tip. His hips jerk slightly from the mixed sensation of your warmth and the hum that vibrates from the depths of your throat when you taste him. Sliding your hands up his thighs, you attempt to grip his shaft to assist, but he swats your hand away, “Ah– No touching.”

“How will I–” 

Placing one of his hands behind your head, he nudges you forward, making your mouth completely engulf his tip between your lips. He groans when your cheeks hollow around him, sucking gently while maintaining eye contact, “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? Always talking back.” 

The hand on the back of your head brushes through your hair, sweeping away the strands that cover your face, and gathering them into a make-shift ponytail. Twisting the bundle of hair around his closed fist, he moves you further onto his cock, watching intently while your brows scrunch at the feeling of his tip brushing against your throat. His jaw falls slack and eyebrows scrunch as he pulls you back, then pushes you back onto his erection, repeating the motion until low grunts dangle on his tongue. 

Your mouth is a mixture of an increasing amount of spit and salty precum, the liquids leaking from the corners of your mouth as he controls your movements. When he decides the speed isn’t enough, he halts, moving his free hand to grip your chin and feel his cock slide into your throat. Without moving your head, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, gaining speed quite rapidly and repeatedly poking the back of your tongue. 

“You like when I fuck your throat?” You make a noise of agreement, nodding slightly with his cock sliding in your hollowed cheeks, “Shuts you right up, huh?” 

The persistent motion causes tears to gather along your darkened waterline with spit now dripping down the sides of your chin and onto Jake’s hand. He doesn’t seem to mind, if anything, he moves quicker and more relentlessly while exasperated huffs exhale from him. The looming threat of gagging clenches your torso, and you breathe deeply and hum aimlessly to keep it from happening. Though, Jake notices, and thrusts harder. 

“C’mon, baby.” He coos, tightening his grip on your hair, and choking out a moan when the muffled sound of you gagging around his cock fills the room. The tears that collected rush down your cheeks, and as a result, leave streaks of black on the blotchy skin. He abruptly pulls out of your mouth when his stomach spasms, signaling that his release isn’t far behind. Gasping for the air you forgot you needed, you heel over and watch as strings of spit connect you to his glistening cock, and dribble down your chin. You figure you must look in disarray; hair tangled from his grip, cheeks bright red, lips shining with spit and precum, and black eyeliner traveling over the rounds of your cheekbones. Still, he looks at you with a sense of adoration, inspecting the labor present on your face while releasing the hold on your hair and gently wiping away the fallen tears. “Lay back.”

Following his order, you scooch back onto the bed, moving backward until you feel the pillows beneath your upper back. You lower yourself onto the soft material and your head sinks into the cushioned fabric. 

“Undress yourself.” 

Moving fervently, you sit up to grip the bottom hem of your shirt, lifting the material over your head and throwing it elsewhere. You hook your thumbs into the elastic waistband of both your mini skirt and underwear, stretching the fabric over the curves of your hips and lifting them to shimmy out of the clothes. Discarding those, you move to unhook your bra, peeling the straps off your shoulders and tossing it over the bed. You lay bare in front of Jake, who stands in only his jeans at the end of the bed with a primal expression on his face. You feel small under his investigative glare, diffidence blooming in your chest as his eyes rake over your breasts and settle on your spread folds. 

Tucking himself into his boxers, he climbs onto the bed, moving slowly up the foot of it until he’s between your spread legs, eye-level with your weeping cunt. Blowing gently on the sensitive skin, your legs twitch around his shoulders, unable to close. Your hips writhe beneath him as you fight the urge to buck your hips into his mouth, growing visibly impatient as you crane your head to watch him. 

“So needy.” He whispers with a dark chuckle, lowering himself and kissing just above your slit. With your hips squirming, he presses a few more kisses in places other than where you yearn for him. And once you’re a whining mess, his tongue darts from his lips, the coral-pink flesh flattening and swiping along your wet folds. A surprised moan flows from your parted lips as your head falls back, your back arching when he continues the same motion. His pointed tongue parts the velvety folds, exploring the valleys and divots, eventually circling the bundle of nerves that begs his attention. 

“Oh, god, Jake–” His name flows from your lips like a sacred mantra, your words pointed to the ceiling while your hand tangles itself in the silky strands of his hair. A muffled groan escapes him, disappearing into your core and pulling a strangled cry from you. His lips close around your aching clit, sucking and performing a pulsing pattern. “Holy shit, just like that!”

A sharp gasp pierces your lungs when you feel his fingers poke at your entrance, two of them sliding into you effortlessly and only enhancing your pleasure. You look down at him, his eyes already on yours, but occasionally glancing at your bare chest, which heaves with every breathless pant. Slowly pumping his fingers, they curl slightly to brush against the spongy flesh, creating a building pressure deep in your gut. Strings of silent curses and fretful moans follow the grinding of your hips, seeking more friction against Jake’s plump lips. 

His free hand comes up to press on your lower belly, pinning you in place while continuing his relentless assault on your swollen clit with his fingers moving in a sweeping motion to pull an orgasm from you. The heat that pools in your abdomen spreads like wildfire, shooting waves of arousal to your core and spreading across Jake’s fingers and lips.

“Keep going,” You cry out as your eyes squeeze shut to prepare for the intense orgasm that builds in your gut, “I’m so close.” 

Just as the beginning pulses of your growing orgasm clench around his fingers, he pulls away, leaving you void of any touch. The indistinct yell of protest that spills from your partially open lips fills the bedroom, and your eyes shoot open to stare at him; a satisfied smirk pulls at his scarlet lips, his hair still bundled into your clenched fist, and your near-release glistens from his lips to his chin, quietly taunting you for what could’ve been. 

“Why’d you stop?” 

“You have to earn it, sweetheart.” He explains like you should’ve already known, leaning away from you and settling himself down on the heels of his feet, kneeling before you. “Lay on your stomach for me.” 

Repositioning yourself with a single huff, you lay snugly against the mattress while he’s out of view. Peering over your shoulder, you observe as he moves up your legs, straddling them and putting just enough weight on them to keep you still. His hands wander over your curves, his calloused fingertips pressing into the soft flesh of your ass. You wait patiently, unsure of his next move.

Smack

You yelp at the sudden stinging sensation on your right cheek, followed by the tender caress of his hand. 

“You have me for three weeks, and yet you still acted like a desperate brat.”

Smack

Jumping at the second spank, he immediately soothes the reddening skin of your left cheek. His voice is laced with forged sincerity as disappointment and built-up dissatisfaction pry through clenched teeth. 

“You said you’d behave, and did you?” He hesitates with his hand displayed in the air, waiting for a response. Shaking your head, he mimics the motion, “Right. That’s what I thought.” 

Smack

The initial pain subsides and is quickly replaced by a sultry feeling in your core, causing your yelps to soften into moans. 

“Did you want to be punished?” Amusement melts from his tongue, and you can almost hear the smug smirk he’s sporting from the tone of his voice, but you nod anyway, a little too earnestly, “Yeah?”

Smack

“Say ‘thank you,’ then.” A shameless moan escapes with a rushed breath, your hips swaying side to side while his hand soothes the heated skin, “Say it.”

“Thank you.” You whine as the unbearable feeling of fervor causes your core to throb. 

Smack

“Again.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You shakily breathe out the repeated phrase, tears stinging your waterline once again from the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Good girl.” He praises you, his hands rubbing gentle circles along the slightly elevated skin that outlines his handprint on each cheek. 

You feel him shift behind you, his weight lifting from your legs, and his hands prying them open to spread, allowing him to kneel between them. His grip rests on your hips, hoisting you up into a bent position with your cheek pressed firmly against the pillow and your ass in the air. He wastes no time freeing his erection from his boxers, pulling the fabric down to his knees and wrapping his digits around the shaft. He pumps his fist absently while gliding the tip between your soaking folds, a small gasp being heard from both of you at the feeling. 

Your breathing halts when he nudges your entrance, his free hand tightening around your hip while he pushes his forward, inching into you at an antagonizing rate. Your walls stretch around the size of his cock and a trembling breath blows from your puckered lips when he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass. A dragged-out groan carries itself from Jake’s throat when he exhales, the soft rush of his breath cascading along your arched back. Neither of you move, simply relishing in the feeling of your walls squeezing around him, accommodating his impressive size. 

A moment passes before he finally pulls back, inching out of you before sliding back in, pressing firmly with each steady thrust. It doesn’t take long before carefully calculated thrusts morph into consistency, pulling a continuous string of moans from you and choked grunts from him. 

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice cuts through the incessant smacking of his hips against your ass, “You wanted to be fucked?” When you nod against the pillow, he grunts a noise of disapproval and swats your ass, “Use your words or I’ll stop.”

“Fuck– yes, I did!” 

“Yes, who? Say my fucking name.”

“Yes, Jake!” Crying out, your hands grip the sheets underneath you, grasping for leverage while he picks up the pace, mercilessly pounding into you and holding your hip as support. His free hand grazes along the expanse of your back, tracing your spine and running through the roots of your hair. Flexing his fingers, he gathers your hair between them, pushing you further into the pillows with your head turned, your furrowed eyes glancing back at him. His stomach clenches with every thrust, his chest flushed, the smooth skin mirroring his concentrated face. The sheer force rebuilds that familiar sensation in your core, and your knuckles turn white from the strength of your hold on the sheets, “Faster, please, I’m so close!”

“Nah, you asked for this, sweetheart,” His pace remains the same, not quite hitting the mark you desperately need to make to capture your release, “Take your punishment like the needy little brat you are.”

“Come on, Jake.” You groan, feeling discouraged when you feel his hand leave your hip, only down-turning his thrusts. 

Smack 

“Fuck!” Taken by surprise, your hips squirm against him while the stinging pain simmers into dullness with the gentle stroke of his hand. “What was that for?” 

“Talking back. Want me to do it again?” 

“No!” You protest, “Please, just let me come. I’ll behave!”

“Hmmm.” He considers your request, but ultimately declines, shaking his head with torment on his tongue, “Not until I say so. I don’t think you’ve earned it yet.” With that, he swiftly pulls out, the sudden absence pulling a choked cry from you. A second denial dissipates the boiling heat in your lower abdomen, and your legs tremble when he flips you over to lay on your back. He’s quick to move between your spread legs, his erection probing at your entrance in an instant, and immediately sinking into your aching cunt. An appreciative whimper catches in your throat when you feel full again, your hands coming up to grasp his bare waist as his arms cage you in.

There’s no easing into the new position as he instantly matches his previous pace, the upward twitching of his cock now brushing against the sensitive flesh of your fluttering walls. Your fingertips sink into the pliable flesh while your legs wrap around his waist, creating a new and deeper angle for him. 

“Oh, my God!” For the third time, your climax climbs to its very peak, yet it still doesn’t bubble over.

“You wanted this, right? Wanted me to fuck you senseless until you’re a fucking mess?” His voice is strained, reflecting his heightened exhaustion as his eyes bore into yours. You can’t respond while enervated sighs pry past your parted lips, your eyes threatening to close in concentration. “Answer me.” One of the hands supporting his weight grips your jaw, keeping your attention on him, and only him.

“Yes, I wanted this,” Breathing out, your brows scrunch, and your jaw falls slack when you feel the slow pulsing of your cunt around his erection. 

“Say it louder.” He’s grunting uncontrollably now, the sound melodic as your hands progress up his back, your nails digging small divots into the flesh. 

“I wanted this!” The pitch of your voice is high and wavering with the vigorousness of his hips pounding against yours, creating a dull ache in them. 

“Poor thing– can barely fucking talk.” His words are slurred as he visibly struggles to maintain his velocity, and if you aren’t mistaken, you’d think he was talking about himself, “What happened to all that attitude, hm?” Still there.

“S’gone.” 

“You think you earned it?” He asks, referencing the release you can both feel pulsing within your core. Rushes of arousal coat his cock, allowing him to move quicker, more thoroughly, and you nod frantically at his question, “Yeah? Ask for it. Use your words.”

“Please, Jake, just let me come.”

“Ah- ask for it, sweetheart.” He corrects you, nearly causing you to whine pathetically out of protest and pure desperation. You’re so close to what you’ve been begging for since before leaving for Josh’s get-together, and you’re practically shaking with anticipation when you give him what he’s demanding.

“Can–” Your voice comes out in a meek tone when speaking, diffidence halting your words, “Can I come?” But, you don’t care, because you only have one goal– finish. You’d continue to beg all night if you had to. 

“Good girl.” The praise rolls off his tongue effortlessly, like music to your ears, “Go ahead, come on my cock.” 

His allowance encourages the climbing peak to fall over the ledge, the intense heat spreading like lava through your clenched limbs. The deafening sounds of your cries and moans are muffled while your cunt uncontrollably spasms around his cock, your eyes fluttering shut. 

“Hey–” The hand that still grips your chin inches down to your throat, squeezing lightly to keep your focus on him, “Eyes on me while you come– That’s right.” 

The remainder of your orgasm squeezes his erection in a pulsing pattern that slows gradually and your breathless moans morph into heavy pants. His eyes melt into yours, his pupils blown while he examines your writhing body and the sweet whimpers that dance on your tongue. Chasing his release, Jake maintains his momentum, silent curses intertwining between the forced grunts as he keeps his hold on your neck. Bringing a hand to his, your fingers wrap around his wrist, encouraging him to stay there as you grin, holding strong eye contact, “Come inside me.”

“F-fuck.” He nearly collapses when the hushed words leave your lips and you feel the frantic twitching of his cock, coating your walls with his cum. Wide eyes hold yours while he lazily grinds into you, his stomach flexing with each spurt of cum, now leaking out of you and spilling onto the sheets below you. His appearance is purely erotic; his eyebrows furrowed as his jaw stays agape, strands of hair sticking to his sweat-sheened skin, while letting out choked whines that catch in his throat. His breathing mimics yours; chest heaving and lips drying from rushed breaths. 

His hips sputter the final waves of his orgasm with a shuttered breath landing on your relaxed features. His movements slow to a halt, the only feeling left now being the subtle throbbing of his softening cock and your fucked-out cunt. 

Staying inside you, he leans down and brushes his lips against yours in a light sweeping manner before placing a gentle kiss upon them. You hum at the tenderness, your eyes fluttering close when your lips move fluidly against his. It dawns on you that it’s the first time he’s kissed you since coming home; a sign of affection you weren’t aware you missed until now. Pulling away, he peppers kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck, moving lower to repeat the action on your bare shoulder and collarbone.

Letting go of your neck, he sits back, hesitantly pulling out of you and watching as your mixed releases rush from your aching entrance. He’s in awe, his tongue darting from his mouth to wet his bottom lip as his eyes zero in on the profane view. 

“Let me clean you up.” He offers while climbing off the bed, pulling his boxers up, and stepping out of his jeans. Disappearing for a few moments, you hear shuffling in the en-suite bathroom, making you move into a sit-up position in bed. 

~~~~~

The warm water washes away the tension that had built a home in your muscles from your after-dinner escapades with Jake. While curled into a ball, the decent-sized bathtub allows you to sit between his legs as he cups water into his hands, letting the soapy liquid flow over your shoulders. 

“Tilt your head back.” The tenderness has returned to his voice, and you follow his instruction, letting your head fall back as he washes away the shampoo in your hair. His touch is careful, sweeping away the soaked strands of hair from your shoulder to press a firm kiss to the warm skin. “You did so well tonight.” 

You hum in response, your eyes closing and head rolling as he runs his hands along your shoulders, kneading away the tightness within them. His thumbs dig into the firm flesh, but he presses kisses along the sore skin to distract from the faint ache in your muscles. 

When he’s finished, he hooks an arm over your chest, pulling you against him to lean further back. Your head rests just below his chin, and you smile when you feel his lips press into your scalp, pushing a kiss into the wet hair. His demeanor has done another 180, completely differentiating from who he was just minutes ago. 

“You gonna behave from now on?” He asks, already knowing the answer. If it got you this, there was no way you would ever behave, and he knows that. But, there’s no fun in admitting that.

“We’ll see.”

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Phew, rough!Jake did a number on me, so I'm sorry for the delay in posting! Which is mostly a result of Tumblr crashing on my phone. Anywho! As always, I hope you enjoyed. I'm overdue for a sweet!Jake one shot... Perhaps that'll be next.

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