#Sam kiskza fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gretavanmoon · 3 months

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S A L T Y

Jake x female reader

4.8k words

+ After indulging in a shared stamina-boosting treat in the dead of summer, you find yourself twisted up in a silly argument that's laced with jealousy... the salt is heavy in more ways than one with this one.

Happy Fourth of July! Keep this in your back pocket for your post-firework bedtime story. Gracias to @gretavangroupie for edits and forcing me to post this love yaaaaa

Warnings: 18+! Angst: Cursing, Substance Use in the form of Aphrodisia, Arguing, Mentions of Alcohol, Heavy Jealousy & Possessiveness, Overall Bossiness Smut: Kissing, Touching, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (M! and F! Receiving), Dom/Sub kinda

“Son of a bitch, if we keep it up like this I’m not gonna have anything left in me, baby,” Jake admits as he removes his right foot from the arm of the couch, the other standing weakly on the floor, barely holding his weight. Your body is bent in half, your arms holding you uncomfortably upright as he pulls out from behind you, hands still gripped and squeezing tightly around your waist.

You and Jake had made the early afternoon decision to each eat a special pleasure-boosting chocolate that you’d been told about by a friend a few months ago, and saying that the effects always took perfectly for the both of you would be an understatement. Just one serving would have the two of you ravenous for each other for hours on end, and seeing as how neither of you had anything to do for the rest of the day, it only seemed right to end the weekend on a high note. It was only after you’d both eaten the chocolate and after you figured out that your air conditioning had decided to go out that you told Jake about your plans for next weekend, thus sending him into a pissed-off mood that was borderline a thrown tantrum. But you accounted his mood to the extra blood flow the chemicals in the chocolate had given him going straight to his dick, leaving little for his brain to process thoughts.

“Hah, look at you calling me baby, after bitching at me all day,” you quip, turning to meet eyes with him as you stand up straight again, the feeling of your own wetness sliding between your thighs. Your muscles already feel weak as you turn to plop back down on the plush cushions of the couch, careful not to drip anything on your freshly washed covers.

He instantly falls to his knees, growling as he grabs the insides of both of your legs to pull you closer to the edge of the couch. His mouth is instantly connected to your core, his tongue already burying itself deep inside your deepest crevices. You’re both groaning from near exhaustion, willing your bodies to keep up with your desire.

“I can bitch at you and still call you baby, Y/N. Not my fault you said yes to a date with someone else without my permission,” he barks before diving back between your legs.

Your hands smooth back the strands of hair sticking to his forehead, pulling them away from his face as you bite both your lips in, finding it insanely difficult to stop yourself from wailing his name so loudly you disturb the neighbors. He’s being facetious and you know that, but his attitude makes it all the more challenging to not give in to him completely. You love it when he gets a little jealous.

Instead of yelling at him, you bite a quick “fuck me” through your tightly clenched teeth, hoping to god he doesn’t hear you. His brow furrows as he makes eye contact with you, a maddening expression painted on his sweat-coated face that you’re sure is only there simply for the sake of playing dumb. “Are you just raving, or is that a request?” he growls as he pulls away just long enough to breathe his words out.

“Neither, asshole,” you lightly tap your fingertips to the side of his temple, knocking him sideways as he presses your legs apart, giving him further access to work you. He likes it. He gets off on you being playfully scornful to him. He cracks a short-lived but devious smile before turning back into his whiney self.

You take a quick breath, ready to explain yourself again. “And it’s not a date, it’s drinks. With my co-workers. How in the– aahhh, fuckkkk– how in the fuck is that a date?” Your eyes begin to roll back a little as he points his tongue directly over your clit, arrogantly knowing exactly what makes you fall apart for him.

He pulls his head back with a hiss, making you disconnect your hands from his roots as he eyes you meticulously. He licks his lips, your slick still coating the 5 o’clock shadow that’s now adorning his face after going at it with you all day. His eyes never leave yours as he plunges his two middle fingers inside you, pushing his other hand against the inside of your left thigh. “How is it not a date, baby? Don’t be fucking coy. You dated the man.”

You groan in aggravation as he pisses you off even more, still pinning your leg to the side as his fingers work inside you, hitting your g-spot with so much fucking ease you want to slap him again. “I went on two dates with him! That hardly qualifies as dating, Jacob,” you retort as he flicks his fingers with more precision. Your head falls back again, the pleasure coming in rippling waves now as you feel your stomach tightening. “Plus, he’s my manager… invited everyone… how am I supposed to say no to that?”

The air shifts a little as he loudly clicks his tongue.

“Did you ever fuck him?” he asks quickly, sitting back on his heels as he completely halts all movement of his hand.

“What?”

He leans in, hovering over your belly as his face is dangerously close to yours, his fingers still buried deep but staying completely still. “Did… you…ever… fuck him? Simple question, love.”

You swallow, not expecting the conversation to even go here, let alone while you’re literally fucking him.

Your eyes dart side to side, the blurry memories of sleeping with the man who is now your boss those some ten-odd years ago flashing through your mind. That was a lifetime ago, you were barely in college a few weeks. And it was two dates and a hookup before the two of you decided to just stay friends, and that was that. You’d only seen him in passing a handful of times over the years, but to be quite honest, after sleeping with him, he barely ever even crossed your mind.

You swallow again as Jake’s eyebrows raise, waiting for you to answer. He shoves his fingers deeper inside you to remind you that he asked a question, making you clench around him. “Fuck! Yes, okay? Yes. We slept together one time, Jake. Once. And it was ten fucking years ago.”

He stays silent as he bites his lip in, a rush of what looks like disappointment crashing over his face for just a second. He slowly picks up the pace again, delving his fingers inside at a much slower pace, now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he mumbles, still biting his lips. You can tell that your admission has defeated him just a little.

“Tell you what? That I hooked up with him once? Probably because it feels like it was a figment of my imagination, at this point. I was eighteen. Why does it matter?” you ask, wondering if he’s really upset, or if he’s just pouting at the fact that you left this little detail out about this certain person you work with.

“He’s your fucking manager, Y/N, I don’t know…” he says, shaking his head side to side. You can see the sweat starting to form on his chest, the drips starting to form into a stream that is dripping down to his stomach. You could feel the heat of the day starting to creep into the walls now that the A/C has been out for a few hours, and the sun practically baking everything it touches outside isn’t helping in the matter. But there’s nothing you can do about it right now, the both of you will just have to suffer until the chocolate wears off and you can act like humans instead of rabid animals.

You stay quiet as you feel the knot tightening in your stomach again, wanting him to continue so you can reach your high, but also feeling the heavy shift in the conversation. You glance at the sweat pouring from him, and some kind of carnal instinct to want to taste it takes over your entire being. You suddenly need your mouth on him. You need to lick up every droplet of sweat that’s rushing down his body, and swallow it down. Taking matters into your own hands, you grab his wrist and rip his hand from you, standing up as you pull him to his feet. The soreness sets in again, having been in nearly every position in the Kama Sutra already today.

You pull on his hands, making him follow you into the bedroom. “What are you doing, Y/N?” he asks, trailing behind.

“Come in here, come lay down,” you order, turning him to push him down into the already messy sheets. Luckily, there’s a fan in here, giving the two of you a little reprieve as the heat fills the house. You watch as his tanned body falls backwards into the stark white sheets, his hair falling behind him as he reclines. His skin is glowing, his eyes trained on you, watching your every move as you crawl up him, purposefully snaking your body so that he has a visual of every single curve of your sweat-covered self.

You lean down, outstretching your tongue and touching his navel, working your way up his stomach and to his chest, collecting the deliciously salty taste of him on your tongue. There’s something about it, the flavor and the scent and the way he feels beneath you… it’s not the most pleasant, but you’re positive nothing on this earth tastes or smells more like home to you. You’d always read about how animals are attracted to their mates’ scent, and you never understood how it could apply to humans, too, until you became serious with Jake. It’s something that’s just wired into your brain now, and the longer you’re together, the more you find yourself craving it. Craving him.

“I’m sweaty and gross, babe,” he complains as he leans up and twists his hair into a knot behind his head, remnant baby hairs still sticking to and framing his face.

“You think I care? You taste so good… like you just got out of the ocean…” you say honestly, making him laugh a little through his nose. You run your tongue all over him, his sides, his groin, his pecs and his neck… each place tasting better than the last, and each spot making him absolutely feral at the feeling of your mouth on him. His light moans of bliss fill the room as his hands search for any part of you he can grab on to, his eyes fluttering open and closed as you watch his face light up.

You can tell he’s getting hard again as you let your lips lightly ghost over his shaft, the chocolate still putting in work in keeping him turned on. Finally, you find yourself starving for him again, too, letting your lips cup over the head of his dick as you give it one tight little squeeze.

“Please baby, fuck…” he grunts, his knees bending up and around your body. One thing about the way this chocolate works is that it amplifies everything, making every brush, every touch, every sensation amplified by a hundred. You have already had your mouth on him a couple of times today, but you can imagine how he feels simply from your experience with his mouth on you earlier, begging and wanting and needing the feeling so desperately. Absolutely bursting at the seams to experience the euphoria.

You move your body to straddle him, letting your already completely soaked core drift over his cock, ready and waiting to fill you again.

“Don’t think I forgot about the conversation we were having, Jake,” you tease as you position your knees firmly on either side of him. He fills his cheeks and blows out a long puff of air, his hand hitting his forehead to wipe away the sheen of sweat.

“I don’t remember us having a conversation, Y/N, but I remember me expressing to you that I’m not happy with this arrangement,” he says, smirking at you a little while he runs his tongue along his teeth. “You fucked him! And you work with him! And you never even told me!” he all but yells.

You let your opening line up with his tip, letting yourself fall on to it just an inch or so. Your body was begging you to sit all the way down, the fire burning within your veins way past its boiling point. But you held strong.

“You think I fucked him, Jake?” you ask, swirling your hips gently on him.

He tries his best to stifle his words, but he comes up short. “Oh my god, baby, you feel so– please…” he begs, his jaw falling slack just from the tiny touch. His eyes pop open and look at you, his expression absolutely pleading for more. “Yeah, you told me you did…”

You pause, letting the heavy air hang for just a second as you laugh a little under your breath. You shake your head side to side at his naivety, wondering just how he thought the situation went down all those years ago. “I didn’t fuck him,” you answer, letting yourself fall another inch as your fingertips pause on his stomach. “I was eighteen, I didn’t even know what fucking was…” you purr, swirling on him again.

His chest is heaving with want, his growls now turned into desperate whimpers as he’s doing anything but begging you to let him fill you. You know that if things were normal, and if the two of you weren’t caught up in this childish back-and-forth, he’d be on his hands and knees for you, falling to the floor at your every whim. His hips buck up into you, but you rise on your knees, not allowing him to have any control over the matter.

“But you… you and me… this…” you go on as you sit back down, giving yourself centimeters. “I didn’t know what I was even missing, until I found you…” you admit. “No one has ever made me feel like you do.”

He takes a deep breath, centering himself. “None? None of them?” His hand sneaks up and presses a thumb to your clit, adding just enough pressure to make your breath catch.

You shake your head side to side again, as you’re almost seated to the hilt, the feeling of him filling you again already making your body shudder. “No baby, none of them. So you can cut the pissy attitude, or I’m hopping off of you, and taking care of myself.” With that, you sit down completely on him, your bodies finally resting together as you feel the tip of him buried as far as he could get.

“Ffffuckk, Y/N, god damnit, yes,” Jake howls into the room as his thumb still works your clit, his other hand rushing up to grip onto your hip. But you steady your movements. Though your body is burning for you to move, you want to give him the same lack of satisfaction he gave you earlier. But just for a second.

“Answer me, am I going to have to take care of myself, Jake? Or are you going to quit being salty over something that doesn’t fucking matter and let me fuck you how I want?”

You know the situation matters to him. And you’ll validate that later. But not right now. Right now it’s fueling too much angst and you’re having too much fun.

His grip on your hip tightens so hard that it almost hurts, his fingernails digging into the thick muscle there. You’re fully aware that both of you can get turned on from dirty talk alone, and the chocolate is only exaggerating the feeling. Your brain is buzzing with electricity from it. You love when he gets a little rough. He can tell that your body responds to the little bit of pain, and like a switch flipped in his brain, he lets it turn on all his lights. Suddenly both his hands are on your hips, switching the places of both of you in one swift movement. Your body is pressed against the mattress, your shoulders being held down as he hovers overtop of you. “How about you let me fuck you how I want, hm? How’s that sound?” he challenges with an air of greed.

Like a petty little pet, you nod your head, completely losing the war of being the one calling the shots the second he squeezes your clit between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation almost kills you, cuts off your ability to breathe altogether as he begins pulsing his fingers quickly, causing the desire to pool up in your belly all over again. He’s never really concentrated his fingers this pointedly before; usually his hands are grabbing and squeezing wherever they can. But with the most sensitive part of your body being held so tightly and at the mercy of his fingers, you feel completely at his will. “How about I show you exactly why you choose to stick around, and you’ll keep choosing it, no matter how many dates you go on with your boss.”

“God, give it up, Jake,” you complain, rolling your eyes dramatically as his movements set your whole body on fire again.

You’ve barely gotten the words out before his other hand is braced across your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure to your pulse points. You want to swallow, but you can’t, all you can do is let out a pitiful whine that sounds more like a choked sob than a moan. His other two fingers are still gripped on your clit as he balances on his knees, his eyes laser sharp as the sweat continues to drip from his chest.

“Give it up? Give it up?! Baby, you’re being awfully bossy for someone who is in the wrong, here. And for someone who’s acting so bratty today,” he says, his voice sounding gentler than the words he’s spouting. “Tell me you won’t go to the bar with them. Tell me you’ll back out of the plans.”

Deep down, you know Jake doesn’t give a fuck who you hang out with. You’re both comfortable enough in your relationship that trust is paramount, and neither of you have ever tested it. He trusts you, and you him to come home to one another every night, never straying or giving the other a reason to be suspicious about anything at all.

He squeezes a little harder on your throat, sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to your core as his eyebrows shoot up.

“Come with me. Come out with us. You haven’t met them yet, anyway… come let them see that I’m yours, we don’t even have to tell them. We can show them…” you suggest, honestly liking this idea way more. His grip on your throat loosens as bit as he contemplates the idea.

“Show them, hm?” Finally he nods, giving in to your suggestion. “Okay, yeah, I’ll show up…”

You nod back at him as you give him the tiniest smirk, bringing your own hand up to cup over his, squeezing his fingers a little tighter on you. “What’s with you today, huh? Testing me every five minutes…” he asks. His teeth grit against one another as the wind from the fan hits the back of his head just right, blowing his damp hair over his face as he lets go of his grip between your legs, adjusting his body so that he’s positioned perfectly above you again. His hand moves from your throat straight down to your tit, gripping the whole thing roughly as he takes his dick in his hand, running it up through your wetness. The sensation is enough to floor you, every single atom in your body on fire and wanting to feel him completely.

Your hands find his waist, pulling him into you with everything you have, your legs already wrapping around him. “Stop making me fucking wait Jake,” you spout. “I’ll stop bitching, I promise, just please…”

“Oh now you wanna back down…? Not like I haven’t gotten you off three times already today…”

“You’re the one who’s been fucking bitching like a teenager all damn day! God…” you rouse, knowing that your voice is probably grating on his nerves right now. He presses himself harder against you, daring you to say another word.

“Watch your mouth,” he warns, still holding himself in his hand. You can feel his pulse throbbing in the head of his dick as it presses up against you, and you know if you say another cross word, you’re in for it.

“And what if I don’t?” you press, sounding as prissy as you possibly can.

He taunts you with the same ultimatum that you gave him earlier, “Then I’ll just have to go and take care of myself, I guess… and leave you here unsatisfied. Your mouth has been nothing but aggravating today, Y/N, I swear to god…”

You roll your eyes at him, knowing he most definitely hasn’t forgotten about your lips sucking at him for nearly an hour today, if you added it all up.

“Will you just fuck me, Jake? I’ll keep my mouth shut if you shut yours…” you spout as you feel your core drip down onto the sheets.

“Is that a fucking promise?” he asks, cocking both eyebrows.

“Swear.”

Like a wild animal that can no longer control it’s instinct, he presses all the way into you, stifling all the noises that you know he wants to make. His body lurches to hover over you as he picks up a slow pace, his hips cracking with extreme precision as his thighs smack against the backs of your legs. “God, you get on my fucking nerves,” he jests through his teeth.

“Mutual,” you say quickly, jutting your chin upward.

Your throat is burning with rage as you stop yourself from crying out, only tiny breaths of whimpers escaping as you hold your side of the quiet bargain. His eyes are dark and devious as his hips snap harder, hitting you more deeply than he has all day. Your vision blurs into a deep black with each thrust, the pleasure threatening to make you go nonverbal, anyway.

An especially harsh breath falls from you as he bends your leg up, hitting you even deeper and at a new angle. He brings his left hand up to his mouth, pressing his pointer finger gently over his lips with a hushed ‘Shhh’.

Your hand flies up and cups around your mouth as you follow his order, ceasing all sounds that could possibly escape you. His eyes stay trained on you as his hair falls across his face and yours, his scent wafting across your nose as you take in chopped breaths through it. You force your eyes closed as the pleasure builds in your stomach, the familiar feeling of the beginning of another delicious orgasm overtaking your psyche. It burns, the threat of overstimulation creeping up in your insides, but you ignore it simply for the fact that you are going to feel him so wholly again, letting him bring you to the brink of no return for the third, fourth, fifth… whatever time it will be today.

Suddenly you feel his lips on the shell of your ear, his teeth biting in as he whispers. “I’ll go on your little work outing with you, but if I’m gonna endure being around a man who’s already fucked you, you’ll do things to my liking, got it?” he asks, and you know better than to say no right now. Your stomach muscles are tightening, jerking your body as the bliss builds up, so you nod in agreement as your hand is still clamped over your mouth. “You’ll wear that low-cut top with the lace straps that I like so much… and that black leather skirt that cuts at your thigh… wear my favorite perfume, and that pretty little necklace I got you for your birthday. Sound good, babydoll?”

You nod again as his teeth pull on your earlobe, his voice low and gravelly, still. “Good. Then it’s settled. Then everyone will see how tantalizing you look outside of your work clothes, and they won’t be able to do a goddamned thing about it… they won’t be able to touch you… They’ll just have to admire you from afar while I tease you under the table…” his hand ghosts down and his thumb finds your clit again, making your eyes shoot closed and your head tilt back into the pillows. Fuck, if he doesn’t always manage to win these things. And you know he isn’t lying, either. You know your entire work outing will be full of his hands secretly snaking between your legs under any table you’re sitting at, his hand gripping your ass at every turn, his eyes staring daggers through you from across the room…begging you to sneak with him into the bathroom.

You know how the game is played, and somehow, he always fucking wins whether you want him to or not. What you don’t know though, is that he thinks the exact same thing of you. You winning him over with the way you feel wrapped around him, your body drenched and buzzing beneath him. He always wins, even when he doesn’t.

“You gonna cum, baby? Let me have it one more time?” he asks, his hand now pressing down on your stomach where he can feel himself entering you with each pointed thrust he’s still delivering.

“Mhmm…” you moan into his neck, his mouth still sucking hard on your ear and everything surrounding it.

“You’re mine… all mine… no one else’s… give me what I want, baby,” he gloats, and his possessive words send a slow shockwave through your body, the rippling effects of the most intense orgasm you’ve had today sending your mind into a noiseless world of white light. All you can feel is him, all you can think about is him… and when you finally catch your breath and let your hand fall to the back of his neck, your pitiful moan on the come-down reverberates off the walls, sending him to finish right behind you.

When his breath finally evens enough to come back to earth, his body collapses on top of you, completely spent as he pulls himself out of you. You lean down to kiss his neck, his skin still coated in that sweet-salty goodness that is enough to get you going again, but you relax, feeling the effects of the chocolate beginning to slowly wear off.

He flips his head around to face you as you both lie face-down on the bed, and a smile that you haven’t seen all day sweeps across his pink, pouted lips. “Do I still taste like the ocean?”

You let your fingertips tousle the hair around his face, drenched and sticky. “Better than the ocean. You taste like you.”

His cheeks blush as his demeanor completely shifts into softness. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah baby, I know,” you reply with sincerity.

“And you don’t have to wear all that stuff to the bar. You’ll look beautiful in whatever you choose. You could turn heads in a burlap sack.”

You giggle as you pull his hand up to your lips, kissing his palm. “But what if I want to wear all that? What if I want you to tease me all night, make my boss even more jealous than he probably already is?” you press.

“Then it’s a no brainer. Do it up, baby. I trust you,” he says with confidence.

“Maybe I will,” you reply, taking a deep breath. “Not pissy anymore now that I gave you what you wanted?”

He smiles coyly, snaking one arm underneath you to pull you on top of him again. “Nah. No more bitching from me. I think I was about to have a heat stroke.” His hands are ghosting all over your body again, but not in a wanting way. His fingertips drift over your curves as if he’s adoring the body that is sitting over him. Simply taking the time to appreciate you.

“Me too,” you giggle, and you know that the festivities for the day have most likely reached their bittersweet end. “I’ll go start us a cold shower while you call the landlord, sound like a plan?” you ask, holding your hand up as you await a high-five.

“Deal,” he says, clapping his hand to yours. “But you can’t try and seduce me in the shower, I don’t think I have anything left in me. You’ve drained me dry, girl.”

You laugh through your nose as you hop into the floor, rushing off to the bathroom. “We’ll see about that.”

xoxoxo Jules

Taglist: @britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner@cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas@whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @gretavangroupie

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gretavangroupie · 3 months

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Recommendations

After countless asks in our inbox, Jules and I have put together a list of some of our favorite fics - the ones we find ourselves reading time and time again. Hopefully there will be a few on here that you haven't read yet and will fall in love with too!

Jake:

Green Eyed Monster - @builtbybrokenbells

Covet - @jakeyt

Le Morte d'Arthur - @joshym

Until This Is Over - @abeautylives

Cream & Sugar - @sacredthefran

Melodic Memories - @builtbybrokenbells

Come Over - @milkgemini

Valence - @gretavanfleetposts

Imperfect Moments - @abeautylives

Disgrace - @gretavanfleetposts

Lost Boys - @tlexx

The Vanishing - @fleet-of-fiction

Amongst The Wildflowers - @jakeysfallingsky

The Lovers - @age-of-greta

Behind Closed Doors - @anthemofgvf

Decorum and Refinement - @gretavanlace

Rotten Apple - @builtbybrokenbells

Pictures of Time - @farfromthehomelands

Capital Vices - @builtbybrokenbells

Anything for You - @themoreyou-love

What Is and What Should Never Be - @devilat-thedoor

Bound - @gvfgal

Best Laid Plans - @writingcold

Josh:

It's Never Over - @builtbybrokenbells

Eternal - @readyforthegarden

Honey - @caravelmp3

Endless Summer - @anthemofgvf

Troubled Mind - @britney-gvf

Trip Around the Sun - @abeautylives

The Sex Scene - @fleet-of-fiction

Sam:

Picasso - @builtbybrokenbells

The Moon - @age-of-greta

Karma Sutra - @obetrolncocktails

Pink Lemonade - @garbagevanfleet

Daniel:

Belladonna - @builtbybrokenbells

Emerald Green - @hearts-hunger

Too Late to Go Back - @stardustndreamsofsilver

Four Weddings and A Funeral - @hearts-hunger

Guilty Pleasures - @builtbybrokenbells

Illicit Affairs - @aflame4goinghome

Forbidden Twins:

Cruel Summer - @sacredstarcatcher

Gold Dust Woman - @builtbybrokenbells

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sirjaketkiszka · 2 months

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Silver Springs: Chapter One

Early20s!Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

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I know I could have loved you but you would not let me…

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Josh breaks some news when he invites you to watch the band practice.

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Word count: 4,427

Warnings: extremely light cursing, dialogue-heavy, and poor writing.

Disclaimer: apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

Silver Springs Masterpost

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The minutes seem to pass by excruciatingly slow, and the dull sound of ticking captures your full attention. Resting your chin on your open palm, your eyes focus on the wall-mounted clock's second hand passing over the minute lines. The voice of your professor has been completely drowned out at this point, the low vibrations of his voice just barely reaching your ears. Just as expected, once the clock indicates 2:30 pm, students lift from their seats and gather their belongings.

The sound of rustling, backpacks zipping up, and chairs shoved back under desks pulls your attention away from the clock, your dry eyes blinking a couple of times from your previous zoning out. Looking to your left, Josh shoves his textbook back into his bag, silently cursing when it won’t fit all the way. Following suit, you grab your textbook, laptop, and notepad off of the tabletop and neatly place them in your book bag.

“I don’t know how you keep yours so organized,” Josh frustratingly huffs, forcefully zipping up his bag, “There’re too many things to carry.” He groans, standing up and struggling to sling the cross-body strap of his bag over his head.

“I think it’s a you problem, Josh,” You chuckle, zipping up your bag, pulling the strap over your shoulder, and standing from your seat. The lecture room is nearly empty now with only a handful of students, yourself and Josh included, scattered about. Without saying a word, Josh follows behind you as you both wave goodbye to your professor, exit the room, and enter the large hallway where fellow students scatter about, “You’d think you’d be better at organizing since it’s basically the end of the year,” You tease, smirking at him.

“Yeah, well, I’m not,” He rolls his eyes, speeding up slightly to walk in front of you. Spinning around, he walks backward and faces you, completely disregarding anyone behind him. You can’t help but glance over his shoulder every once in a while to make sure he doesn’t bump into anyone, “So, you coming over to my place to watch band practice?” He asks, an eager smile pulling at his lips.

“Do I have a choice?” You question.

“Not really, because-”

“Because you drove here,” You finish his sentence, “Yep, I figured as much.”

“Oh, come on,” He begins, but nudges someone on accident and silently apologizes, taking that as his cue to walk beside you again, “It’ll be fun! You never watch us practice anymore.” He mocks a whine.

“Okay, okay, fine,” You say, looking around nervously at the surrounding students who are also making their way to the hall’s exit, “Um, will…” You clear your throat and frown at the stupid question, but ask anyway, “Will Jake be there?”

“Well, I mean…”

“Yeah, I know, stupid question,” You groan, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment.

“I’ll never understand your distaste for him,” Josh chuckles and shakes his head as he opens the hall’s exit door, holding it open for you to cross the threshold. When you step outside, the late spring, and early summer heat washes over your body, the blistering sun piercing your cool skin.

“That’s because he’s your twin,” You explain, the both of you walking toward the university’s parking lot, “And it’s not just me who dislikes him, trust me, the feeling is very mutual.”

And you are very correct when you say that. Of course, Josh doesn’t understand the extent of the mutual disliking, but he knows of it. Ever since you and Josh became friends, nearly seven years ago as freshmen in high school, you and Jake have never seen eye-to-eye. Personally? You think he’s full of himself, arrogant, and way too cocky for his own good. To everyone else, though, he’s apparently kind, understanding, and passionate, whatever that means.

“Well, I’m trusting you to behave tonight,” Josh half-teases and comes to a stop when you reach his car; an old, beat-up truck.

“I always do,” You argue, making your way to the passenger side as he unlocks the doors, “It’s him you should worry about,” You huff out, plopping into the passenger seat and immediately getting uncomfortable by the gathered heat. The inside of the truck is stuffy, and the unbearable warmth blankets your skin, suffocating you.

As soon as he starts the car, the aged engine sputters and roars to life causing a loud purr to vibrate the cabin and bed of the truck. Without missing a beat, you both immediately roll the windows down due to the lack of air conditioning.

“You’re probably right about that,” He admits, backing out of the parking spot and nearly zooming out of the parking lot as he drives in the direction of his family home. The drive is only thirty minutes; our hair collectively wisping in the strong wind current through your cracked windows. Previous layers of sweat dry in the semi-cool breeze, and views of tall trees blur in your peripheral. The music on the radio is low, but Josh talks the entire time; about his day, your shared classes, and where the band is performing next.

“Do you think you’ll be touring soon?” You ask, your voice slightly raised to battle the loud current of air.

“Maybe not on our own, but hopefully as openers,” He responds in an equally loud voice, his eyes concentrated on the road ahead of him. You simply nod, your gaze slowly drifting to look outside the passenger window. The journey to his house entails views of crop fields and thick forests. It doesn’t take long before you turn into a residential area, indicating your very soon arrival.

Dread, or nerves, you’re not entirely sure, wrap around your torso when the Kiszka house comes into view. Josh pulls up next to the curb in front of his house and puts the car in park, prompting the both of you to roll your windows up before shutting off the engine. You quickly exit the vehicle before the heat creeps back in, slamming the heavy door shut behind you, and Josh following closely behind.

The garage is already open, signaling to Josh that his brothers are patiently waiting for him. You hang back slightly, allowing Josh to walk ahead of you.

“Hey, guys,” Josh greets once you’re at the top of the driveway, two of the band members slowly coming into your view, “Y/n is going to be joining us today.” He informs them while entering the garage and setting his bag down on the old, discolored couch. You follow behind him, flashing a nervous smile to Sam and Danny, who are already smiling at you.

Sam and Danny are still seniors in high school, although they’ll be graduating next week, and they’re always happy to see you. Danny subconsciously fixes his frizzy hair, his meek smile lingering on you, making you chuckle to yourself. Sam, on the other hand, is full-on smirking at you and making his way over as you take a seat on the couch.

“So,” He begins, running a hand through his long hair, “you finally came to see me, huh?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Sam, for the hundredth time, I am too old for you,” You laugh, knowing he’s not serious, but rather keeping up the running joke that he has a crush on you. A joke that started when he was much younger, and more specifically when you and Josh first became friends. Jake was the one who made the joke to tease him when you started coming over a lot more. Speaking of which, where is Jake?

“Worth a shot,” He shrugs, turning on his heel and walking back to his keyboard, residing on its stand to the left of the room.

“What made you come today?” Danny finally asks from behind his drum kit, his hands fiddling with the drumsticks as he speaks.

“Well,” You glare at Josh, who’s actively avoiding eye contact by staring at the ceiling, “I didn’t have much of a choice, but I’m happy to be here.” You conclude, smiling at Danny, not wanting to sound too miserable about watching them practice. You’ve watched them before, and they are damn good, but it’s more so… the Jake of it all that makes you avoid it. To be fair, Jake has never warmed up to the idea of you attending practices either. Something about you being too distracting for the band? You couldn’t remember, but it was enough to make you stop going altogether.

“I figured she was overdue for a practice,” Josh explains to Danny, making him nod in agreement, “And I’d argue that we’ve gotten much better since the last time you watched us,” He pauses, “What? Two months ago?” He asks. That was around the time you stopped coming over unless it was to hang out with Josh.

“Yeah, that’s about right,” You answer, sighing. Part of you felt guilty for avoiding band practices for so long, after all, you should be supporting your best friend. Another part of you knew it was for the best, especially since the reason just walked into the garage.

“Jake! Look who’s here,” Josh says happily, holding his arms out to present you to Jake, like it was a good thing you were there. When he looks at you, his face is straight but his eyes are pained? Disgusted? Annoyed? He’s wearing his usual get-up; a self cut-up graphic tee, a pair of jeans that fit just right, and Chelsea boots that somehow work well with the outfit. His shoulder-length hair is slightly ruffled, signaling that he’s been running his hands through his hair; something he does when he’s stressed, not that you cared.

“Nice,” Jake mumbles, his eyes sweeping over your seated position, making you feel small. You hated that he could do that; make a person feel small with just a single look. With his eyes leaving yours, he picks up his plugged-in acoustic guitar and slings the strap over his shoulder, “Ready?” He asks, wasting no time and a little annoyed, looking at the other band members.

You turn to Josh, who gives you a comforting smile, to which you return an unsure one. You watch as he leaves your side, walks to the mic stand, and takes his place between his brothers– Sam to his right and Jake to his left.

Collectively, Josh and Jake turn on their respective amps, causing a small amount of feedback to fill the garage. Jake plucks his strings as Sam plays a few notes on the keys, checking the volume of the speakers while Josh mumbles unintelligible words into the mic. The floor beneath you gently trembles, carrying the sound of the speakers to your planted feet. You smile eagerly, your hands fidgeting in your lap, patiently waiting for them to begin.

“Flower Power?” Josh asks into the mic, looking around at his bandmates. They all nod, readying themselves, “1…2…3…” He whispers into the mic, looking at Jake. As on cue, Jake begins strumming the strings of his guitar, and a beautiful tune hits all corners of the small garage. It’s a tune you’re very familiar with, one you’ve heard since they started playing together, but it never loses its beauty.

Simultaneously, Sam fluidly moves his fingers above the keys, and it hardly looks like it takes effort to create such an alluring melody. Danny joins in with the pounding of his drums which immediately travels through your feet and shakes your core. Last to come in, or the best for last as he says, is Josh, whose smooth voice sounds equally unique as it is nostalgic.

“She is a lady, comes from all around,” He begins singing, sending you a wink as he does so, making you smile and shake your head. Your eyes scan the band; Sam mouths along to the tune as he plays, and Danny’s mouth mimics a ticking sound, while Jake’s body rocks back and forth with every strum and pluck of string. Lingering on Jake, you watch as his eyes absentmindedly close as he strums, his eyebrows knitting in concentration, and mouth hanging slightly agape. With your mouth suddenly feeling dry, you gulp and sit up straight, peeling your eyes away from Jake.

Every once in a while, though, your eyes drift back to him; the music flowing through his body with every forceful stomp, every rock of his hips, and every whispered word on his parted lips. You couldn’t deny that when he played, he did it well, and if you aren’t mistaken, you can almost swear that Jake’s eyes drift to you every time you look away; burning holes in the side of your face as you keep your focus on Josh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the practice is relatively normal, with a few passive-aggressive remarks between the Kiszka siblings, but again, relatively normal. As soon as practice is officially over, Jake can’t get out of there fast enough; swiftly unplugging his 1961 Les Paul, placing it on its guitar stand, and booking it for the exit without a single word.

You look over to Josh with a confused expression painted on your features, but he just shrugs nonchalantly and places the microphone back on the mic stand. Making his way to the couch, you scoot over to make room for him, letting him plop down next to you. “So, what’d you think?” He asks, slightly out of breath.

“Josh, you guys were amazing,” You answer honestly, turning to face him fully, and smiling at the growing talent of your best friend, “You’re going to go so far.”

“Thank you,” He says, smiling in return, his adorable tooth gap shining through more than anything. You’ve always loved his smile, and it made you wonder if Jake’s was the same, not that you saw it much whenever you were around anyway. “So, are you staying for dinner?” Josh asks, his genuine smile morphing into a sly one.

“You’re my ride,” You point out once again, squinting suspiciously and seeing right through him, “Do I have much of a choice?”

“Not really, no,” He smiles wider, knowing he’s gotten his way, “But, if you don’t want to stay, I won’t make you.” He says, holding his hands up in defense.

“I’m only joking when I complain about staying,” You assure him, not wanting him to think you dislike being around him or his family, “Of course I’ll stay for dinner.”

“Perfect!” He exclaims, shooting up from the couch, and holding his hand out for you to take it. When you do, he yanks you from your seated position, and you nearly lose your balance when you get to your feet. Releasing your hand, Josh grabs his bag and your bag, motioning you to follow him into the house. “We’re ordering pizza.” He states matter-of-factly over his shoulder.

You glance back at Danny and Sam, who are staying behind to debrief the practice, and walk up the short steps to the entrance that connects the kitchen to the garage. Like a gentleman, Josh holds open the door for you, allowing you to walk in before him.

The house is much cooler than the garage, where the peak spring warmth accumulates heavily, making the air sickeningly thick and humid. The sheen layer of sweat bordering your features dries quickly with the soft blow of air conditioning carrying around the house. Behind you, Josh sets both his bag and your bag on the kitchen table residing next to the garage entrance.

“Any suggestions?” Josh asks, referring to the pizza, as he picks up the home phone. Turning around to look at him, you silently shake your head, knowing you’ll be content with whatever he decides. While Josh calls in the order, you wander into the empty living room; different shades of autumn brown blanket every surface, family photos litter the tan walls, and an overstuffed shelf struggles to uphold an impressive collection of vinyl.

Since the first moment you walked through the door many years ago, the faint smell of cinnamon has always lingered, seeping into the worn furniture and even your clothes by the time your visit was over. It was a smell you grew quite fond of, and a smell you always associated with the Kiszkas.

“Pizza’s ordered,” Josh says from behind you, entering the living room, and walking past you to plop onto the faux-leather recliner next to the stairs. Following suit, you plop onto the large matching couch next to him, immediately sprawling out on the soft cushions and staring at the off-white ceiling. “So, finals are next week.” You hear Josh say from the recliner, his voice carrying above you.

“Yep,” You frustratingly sigh at the thought of them, “then our sophomore year of college is over– then onto the next.” You couldn’t wait for your college career to be over; you majored in Photography while Josh majored in Film, but you both had overlapping classes. Photography was something you participated in as a hobby, but you figured, why not make it a career? Sometimes you regret your decision.

“Yeah…” Josh responds with a sense of uncertainty on his tongue, making you take your focus off of the ceiling and lift your head to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, propping yourself on your elbows when you see the upset look on his face. It’s not a look he portrays often, and when he does, it worries you immensely. He stays silent for a moment longer, his lips parting ever so slightly, then closing again when words can’t form, “Josh, talk to me.” You urge him, your pulse actively climbing with anxiety.

“You know how I mentioned we might be touring as openers soon?” He asks, his eyes looking anywhere but yours. You were really getting nervous now, causing you to push yourself up into a slumped seated position, fully facing Josh, who still refused to look at you.

“Yes?” You simply answered, growing curious.

“We are touring as openers,” He rushes out in a strong exhale, making his shoulders slump in relief, and as if a weight has been physically lifted off of him.

“Josh!” You gasp his name, your back straightening from shock, “That’s great! When are you touring?” You ask excitedly, but his demeanor doesn’t match yours.

“August,” He answers.

“August,” You repeat back, the excited pitch of your voice still present, but gradually fading, “As in a couple of months, August?”

“Yes, that August.” His response makes your shoulders slump again, and mixed emotions tug at every facial feature. You’re smiling, happy for your friend, but your eyebrows furrow, attempting to understand the situation.

“What about school?” You press for more information before jumping to conclusions.

“I’m dropping out,” He quietly says, almost too quiet because you have to lean forward to capture his words, “After this semester, I’m done.”

“Forever?” You fully frown, your mouth suddenly going dry, and your heart pumping at an unsteady rhythm from the roller coaster of emotions.

“Indefinitely,” He tries to sound optimistic, but ultimately fails, “but, yeah, probably forever.”

“That’s…” You attempt to form words, any words, but they fall short and catch at the back of your throat, causing a whispered straining sound to come out, “...Okay.”

“I know,” He sighs, his eyes finally drifting to you.

“Your dream–”

“I know,” He repeats, a little too loudly, “But I can always come back to it.”

“I guess,” You pause for a moment, thinking of the situation at hand; you were proud of Josh, no doubt about it. Although, all that could echo in your mind was that being in a band was never his dream, working in film and creating films was, no, is. Knowing Josh, he’s already thought this through, and he knows the risk he’s taking. So, scooting closer to the edge of the couch, and closer to Josh, you reach over and grab his hands, giving him reassuring squeezes, “I’m proud of you.”

“Really?” He asks, a sad smile on his face.

“Of course, don’t be ridiculous,” You playfully roll your eyes, bringing his hands up to your heart, “I will always support you.”

“I knew you would,” He smiles genuinely, his rosy cheeks reaching his eyes, “You’re my best friend.”

“And you’re mine,” You smile back, releasing his hands, which were getting quite sweaty. They fall into his lap, his fingers instantly fidgeting, and he absentmindedly chews on his lower lip. By his demeanor, you can tell the situation still weighs heavily on his conscience, “So, what are we doing for the summer before you leave me forever?” You ask with a small laugh, attempting to lighten the heavy mood, while leaning back to lay down on the couch again with your hands interlocked behind your head.

“First, it’s not forever, it’s like three weeks,” He chuckles, rocking back on the recliner, making it groan in response, “Second, I’m not sure, but I’d like to make the most of it.”

“Me too,” You agree, making a comfortable silence fall between the two of you, with the faint ticking of a clock suddenly sounding too loud. Still, your heart beats rapidly, imagining a school year without Josh, hell, even a town without Josh. You’ve been attached at the hip for seven years, and you can’t help but fear what distance might do to a close friendship.

Startling you both, a loud, forceful knock at the door causes you to swiftly sit up, and Josh shoots up from the recliner, the back of it rocking into the wall behind it, mimicking the current knocking.

“That was fast,” He observes and walks to the front door, fishing out his worn-out wallet from his back pocket. Without paying much attention, you listen to the exchange of Josh handing the money over for the pizza, thanking the delivery driver, and shutting the door with his foot. He reappears in your view, a large square box accompanying him, “Pizza’s here!” He shouts, loud enough for Jake, Danny, Sam, and the damn neighbors to hear. The sheer force of his voice causes you to flinch, a smirk forming on your lips as you shake your head in disbelief.

“Aren’t you supposed to not completely strip your vocal cords?” You ask, laughing while sitting back up.

“Yeah, well, it’s whatever,” He shrugs, leaving you in the living room.

As you’re about to stand from the couch, Jake’s footsteps thud down the steps, each stride earning a small whimper from the aged floorboards. Scrambling to get up, the task proves to be hard when the couch cushions' soft state causes your hands to sink back into them. “Damnit,” You silently curse, heat rising to your cheeks from being flustered.

When Jake reaches the bottom of the stairs, he pauses, watching you shove yourself off of the couch. Huffing out a breath, you immediately feel his presence and glance over at him; his face is stoic, his features carved from stone, and his eyes bored, but a small smirk pulls at his lips. Not a moment passes before he swiftly walks past you, causing a subtle breeze in the once-stagnant air. Your hair whooshes in his direction, reaching out to him, and he’s followed by the faint smell of cologne and smoke. Realizing your reaction, your breathing halts, unintentionally holding his rich scent in your expanded lungs.

Blinking rapidly, and exhaling a sharp breath, you walk into the kitchen where Josh, Jake, Sam, and Danny are all picking at the pizza on the kitchen table like vultures sharing an animal carcass. Luckily, Josh has set aside a plate for you with two slices of pepperoni pizza neatly placed on top. The others, however, grab what they can and hurridly stack the slices onto their plates. Stepping around Josh, you grab your plate and squeeze his shoulder to silently thank him.

With the pizza box empty, you, Josh, Danny, and Sam all file into the living room, with you and Josh calling dibs on the couch, making the two boys sit on the floor. The recliner remains empty, though, probably for Jake.

“So, you coming to the bonfire next weekend?” Josh asks, his mouth full of chewed-up pizza, making you grimace. He has a bad habit of talking with his mouth full.

“Of course, I am,” You answer, taking your first bite of pizza after you respond.

“Good,” He says happily, shoving a large bite of pizza into his mouth.

Jake finally enters the living room, holding a cold beer in his hand, and surveying the full room. His right eye twitches slightly, and he looks to the stairs, most likely deciding to eat in his room. Paying him no mind, you swallow your previous bite, “Do you mind if I bring a friend?” You ask Josh as Jake slowly treads across the living room and toward the stairs.

“Sure! Is it that guy you’ve been talking to?” Josh asks, once again with his mouth full, but doing his best to push the food aside with his tongue. Before you answer, Jake’s steps falter, and instead of going up the stairs, he turns and sits on the recliner. Everyone, including Sam and Danny, who were deep in conversation a moment ago, looks at Jake. Although, he takes a sip of his beer, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

“Um… Yeah,” You hesitate in your answer, still taken aback by Jake’s voluntary presence. Shaking your head slightly to get out of the trance that is Jake, you turn back to Josh, “Yeah, it’s the guy I’ve been talking to.”

“Great! I can’t wait to meet him,” Josh says enthusiastically.

“I’m sure,” You respond, nerves hanging on the ends of your words. Josh has nothing to do with this reaction, but more so, it’s yourself. You’d be lying if you said it was easy meeting guys and keeping them in your life, but it’s not. They either come off too strong or are way too boring. There was no in-between. This new guy, however, you’re hoping he’s different. You do like him, as a person, but you haven’t quite felt that… connection. “I’ve been promising him to hang out soon, so it’ll be nice to have you there.” You say truthfully.

“Of course,” Josh smiles, his cheeks stuffed with food, and his plate becoming empty quickly. You’ve hardly touched your first slice since you can’t help but notice eavesdropping ears to your right; Jake. His eyes are fixed forward, zoning out on the well-loved but stained carpet, but you can tell he’s listening. For whatever reason, you didn’t know.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

That was chapter one of Silver Springs! I’d like to apologize if it seems a little fast paced and uneventful, but I promise it will get better as time goes on. The chapters will likely get longer as well since I have a lot planned for this fic, I just needed to lay the groundwork with this chapter. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it and I’d love to hear your opinions! All my love!

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Tag list:

@aflame4goinghome @peaceloveunitygvf @dilflover-4ever @hollyco @samfkiszka @dayumclarizzel

(Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

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indigogvf · 10 months

Text

How can you not see it?

Authors note: this is my first time writing smut!! Any feedback/thoughts are much appreciated but please be nice :)

Warnings: 18+, minors dni. Angst (i cant help myself🤭), fluff, drinking, swearing. Let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: After being fuck buddies with Josh for a few months, he begins to act out when he sees a man buy you a drink. Is this little arrangement between you over, or does it turn into something more?

You walked up to the bar, standing there for no longer than two seconds before an unfamiliar arm snaked around your waist. “This one’s on me. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be paying for their own drinks, hm?”

‘Okay, gross…’ you thought, turning to look at him. He had dark brown hair that was gelled to the side, brown eyes with slight stubble on his face. I mean, he wasn’t ugly, but that pick-up line was plain nasty.

“I’m okay, thanks though.” You presented a closed lipped smile in hopes that your bluntness would deter him.

You were wrong.

“C’mon, just one drink. I’ll leave you alone after that, I promise.” He asked, looking at you hopefully.

‘Maybe he isn’t so bad, I mean that’s a pretty reasonable offer.’ Looking over the man’s shoulder, you caught Josh’s eyes burning into you.

“Okay, just one drink, but you have to leave me alone after that.” Accepting his compromise, you took a seat at the bar whilst he ordered you a drink. You caught Josh’s eyes again, noticing that he appeared to be angry. You and Josh have been sleeping together for a few months now, but so far, it has been nothing serious.

It happened at the end of the last tour, when he was pent up after a show and had absolutely no shame in asking for your help in the midst of his desperation. There was no denying that Josh is attractive, and you’d always had a small thing for him, so you happily obliged. But then, it carried on, which isn’t necessarily a problem, but he’s a very confusing person. You know that he’s only using you for a quick fuck, but considering your friendship, you assumed he’d have a tad more respect. You are painfully aware that sex is all it is to him, but you can’t help feeling hurt at times, especially when he has no shame in chatting up random girls when you go out somewhere. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to do the same, but stopped yourself out of respect for Josh.

However, it had been a week since you and Josh last had sex, and the guy currently chatting you up seemed nice enough. You didn’t have any intention of sleeping with him, but it was nice to share a drink with someone, even if it was not the person you wanted to be with.

You finished your drink and said your goodbyes to the guy at the bar, who you never actually caught the name of. Or maybe you did… you can’t remember, and truthfully, you don’t really care. You headed back to the group, which only consisted of you, Josh, Jake, Danny, and Sam. “Who was that?” Jake asked, sharing an intrigued look with the rest of them.

“Just some guy, he said he’d buy me a drink and then leave me alone. Seemed like a fair deal and he was nice enough.” You looked around, and it seemed like your answer was satisfactory. Until you landed on Josh, who was still wearing the same grumpy look. You frowned at him, wondering what his problem was. He caught your gaze and rolled his eyes.

‘What is his problem?’ You thought, frustrated with the lack of communication.

“Where are we going after this?” You asked, trying to avoid Josh’s stare.

“You’re not going home with that guy?” Josh asked, hints of sarcasm seeping through his already harsh tone. You were dumbfounded, Josh never acts this way.

“Excuse me?” You asked, pure confusion evident in your tone.

“I don’t know. You seemed pretty content with him.” You looked around trying to gauge everyone else’s reaction, which was seemingly the same as yours.

“I already told you, he bought me one drink and promised to leave me alone. If he hadn’t made the promise of leaving me alone I would have been opposed to the idea, but he did. It was a harmless drink.” You spoke calmly despite the anger that was flowing through your veins.

‘This is unbelievable! Since when is this a problem for him? He has no issues chatting up girls, but when I have a harmless drink with someone he acts like I’ve committed adultery in a marriage that doesn’t even exist.’ You were fuming, but doing a good job of hiding it.

“Could’ve fooled me” he responded, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“Josh, chill out. Let’s just go back to mine because it's the closest.” Danny pipes up. You weren’t even sure you wanted to stay out after the way Josh has been acting. It was awkward now, no one was really sure of what to say because no one knew what was wrong.

“I think I might just head home for the night. This has been really nice though, we need to make more of an effort to do this more often.” You hoped that they wouldn’t question it. Josh had entirely sucked the fun out of the night and your mood to socialise had gone down the drain. They all protested, asking you to stay just a couple more hours. Josh stayed silent, confirming that he was still in his pathetic little mood. That gave you even more reason to leave, so you did. You all said goodbye and they subtly told you to just ignore Josh and that he’d get over whatever was bothering him.

As soon as you got home you stripped from your restricting skirt and top and got in the shower. The warmth felt so good, releasing all the built up tension from Josh’s digs at you. It started to dawn on you that maybe the whole arrangement you had with Josh was a bad idea. Realistically, it’s never a good idea to sleep with your friends without the intention of more. But, it was going fine, it hadn’t affected your friendship at all until now. You wonder what had changed.

You reluctantly got out the shower and put on your comfiest pyjamas. Then, you ordered some takeout, which is a necessity after a night of drinking. It was still quite early and you weren’t going to go to sleep for a few more hours, so you poured yourself a nice, full glass of wine. You heard a knock at the door before you could enjoy.

‘That was quick…’ you opened the door and was met with Josh’s familiar face. ‘Fucking brilliant.’

“What do you want now? To ruin the rest of my night, too?” You asked. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“No, I was going to apologise but it seems you’re still clinging on to whatever it was I did.” You audibly laughed in his face.

‘Unbelievable. Is he serious? This is so obviously because the rest of them forced him to come and apologise.’ You theorized.

“Seriously, Josh? You were rude. You have no problems chatting up women at bars and I never bat an eyelid. Was it shitty to watch? Sure! But I have no reason to stop you because we are not together. We fuck Josh, that’s the extent of it. We’re friends who fuck. Why is it a problem when I have a drink with someone? I was never going to agree in the first place out of respect for you. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to go home with someone, but I haven’t, because despite the fact that we aren't together, we’re friends. But it’s only fair if I get to talk to other guys. I don’t know what your problem is, but our little arrangement is done. It’s clearly affecting our friendship and you seem to be able to get a good fuck whenever you want, so you obviously don’t need me for that. Now, if you’re not going to sincerely apologise for your pathetic behaviour, I’d like you to leave before my food gets here.” He stared at you, mouth agape in shock. All of the emotions you just poured out started to sink in, and it’s became overwhelming. You hold back the tears and wait for him to respond.

‘Why is this getting to me so mu-‘

“I love you! Jesus, how can you not see it? I’m head over heels for you. Have you never noticed how I always take care of you after we have sex? I stay with you every single time. Have you never noticed the way I look at you every opportunity I get? Have you never thought about why I always get you the most meaningful gifts compared to everyone else? Or why I always sit next to you when we go out? I’m in love with you. I never meant for us sleeping together to become a regular thing, but having you as something more than a friend was better than just being seen as a friend by you, even if it was just as a fuck buddy. The way I acted tonight was wrong and unfair, and you’re right. You should be able to talk to whoever you want because that’s exactly what I do. I’m sorry.”

You were shocked to say the least, but it made sense. Everything made sense. You love him. That’s why it always bothered you to see him talking to other girls. As you stared at him completely baffled, your food arrived, which was honestly perfect timing. It brought you back to reality. You invited Josh into your home and sat down with him, “please say something, you’ve been silent for way too long”

“I’m sorry. I just- it all makes sense now.” You thought about the best way to go about this. You weren’t exactly planning on admitting your feelings for Josh tonight, specifically because you are admitting to feelings that you didn’t even realise you had until five minutes ago. ‘Fuck it.’ “I love you too. I didnt even realise, but it makes sense. It hurt to see you talk to other girls, knowing you could pull any of them whenever you wanted. I just didn’t put the pieces together.” You stared up at him, and you couldn’t stop yourself.

You grabbed his collar and pulled him into you, kissing him with so much force that it made your head spin. He gladly reciprocated. Your mouths moved in sync as his tongue swiped your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you granted. He pushed you further into the couch, and you wrapped your legs around his waist bringing him in closer. This felt so different; it wasn’t just need and desperation; the atmosphere was filled with love and passion. He groaned into your mouth as you started grinding your hips on him, looking for some type of friction to ease the aching sensation. You could feel how hard he was.

He pulled away to remove your top and groaned when he realised you weren’t wearing a bra. “Fuck. You’re so pretty, mama.” You smiled at him as you moved your hands to his waist and attempted to unbutton his pants when he stopped you, “No. Let me make you feel good, first.” He removed your pants, leaving you completely naked below him. He ran his fingers through your folds collecting the wetness. “All of this for me?” You moaned at the feeling of his fingers on you, bucking your hips to try and get some friction on your aching clit.

“Only for you, Josh” he pushed a finger inside of you, eliciting a moan that was louder than intended. He was moving at an antagonizing pace. “Please, Josh.” You whined. You needed more, you were so desperate for something.

“Please what, baby?”

“I need more. Please.” He pushed another finger into you, increasing his speed. “Fuck! That feels so good.” You moaned. You could feel the warmth blossoming in your belly, getting closer and closer to your release. He knew it, he knew your body so well. He could feel you squeezing his fingers, and just as you were about to come, he removed them. “No! No, no. Please Josh. I was so close”

“Soon, mama. Let me take care of you.” he leaned in, kissing you much softer than before. You whined into his mouth, bucking your hips in an attempt to relieve your desperation. He was just as desperate as you, if not more. You could feel the heat radiating from his cock.

“I need you Josh. I need your cock, please.” You begged. He pulled down his pants along with his boxers and released his achingly hard cock. His head was red and dripping with pre cum, begging to be touched. You reached your hand down and stroked him delicately. “Fuck. Your hands feel so good, baby, but I need to be inside of you.” He lined his cock up with your entrance and bottomed out. You both groaned in sync. He was stretching you out so good.

“Please move Josh.” You begged, and he obliged. He moved slowly, picking up his pace. This was different, he was going slow but so deep compared to usual, where he would mercilessly fuck you. You used your legs that were wrapped around his waist to bring him in closer, digging your nails into his back. He moaned into your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. Your orgasm was approaching quickly after having it taken away a mere five minutes ago. It was so rushed but you couldn’t care less, you just needed him.

“Faster Josh, I’m so close. Fuck!” He did as he was asked, thrusting into you faster. He grabbed your leg and chucked it over his shoulder, somehow achieving an even deeper angle than before. “Jesus Christ, Josh. You feel so good.” Your head rolled back into the cushions behind you as you quickly approached your long awaited orgasm.

“You gonna come for me? Give it to me, mama. I need to feel you come around my cock.” Josh’s words of encouragement threw you over the edge and caused you to come, hard. You don’t even know if you were actually saying anything or if you were just making noises, but you didn’t care. He fucked you through it, picking up his pace as he chased his own orgasm. “I’m close, baby. Can you give me one more?” You nearly cried when he said that. You were beyond fucked out, the alcohol from earlier starting to tire you out.

“I can’t, Josh.” You whined. His hips were faltering now, giving him away. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth was hanging open. “You can, I know you can. C’mon, mama. Just one more for me. You feel so good. Be good for me, please” his voice was strained, which encouraged you even more. You could feel yourself getting closer. He reached his hand down to your clit and within seconds you were coming again. You saw stars, your legs clamped around his waist even harder as you came. You were shouting his name like a mantra as he thrusted into you at a merciless pace, chasing his own release. You felt him twitch inside of you.

“Fuck! I’m gonna come” he groaned as he stilled inside of you, releasing his hot spurts of cum. His head dropped to the crook of your neck as he worked himself through his orgasm. You both stilled as you caught your breath and he rolled off of you.

He wrapped his arms around you and brought you closer, kissing your forehead gently. “I’m sorry for earlier. I love you.” You smiled up at him and ran your fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay. I love you too, Josh.” You cuddled into him.

‘This feels so right.’ He leaned down and pressed a delicate kiss to your lips whilst he caressed your face. He pulled away and his eyes were filled with nothing but love.

“How does a shower sound?” He suggested, a cheeky glint in his eyes. You grinned up at him and peeled yourself away from his embrace. “I’ll race you.” You giggled, quickly getting up and giving yourself a head start.

“Oh, you’re on!” He chased after you, laughing to himself.

‘This feels so right.’ He thought, too.

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gretavansmooch · 6 months

Text

Lace and Literature ~ Jake Kiszka x Reader

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ Minors DNI!!!!!!

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, a little fluff, choking, some degradation, light bondage, mentions of anal, anal play if you squint, gagging, spit play, hysterical literature, spanking. Please let me know if I missed anything <3

A/n: This is a collaboration between me and my bestie @dannys-dream we hope you like it! :)

Word Count: 1.9K

The lack of downtime on tour was nothing new. Rarely though, is there a quiet moment so when you stumble upon an empty room at the venue with an L-shaped plush looking couch, you immediately rummage through your bag for your book that you brought with you on tour. Settling in the corner of the couch, you crack the spine on your new book. You can barely make a dent before you hear Jake’s soft rap on the door.

“Why am I not surprised that you’ve hidden yourself away with that little book of yours?” He chuckled before striding over to you, settling in front of your legs, leaning his right arm on the couch's cushion. He places a soft kiss on your thigh. “Let’s strike a deal, love. I won’t make you go out and socialize if you’re a good girl and stay quiet for me. We wouldn’t want anyone else hearing how pretty you sound, now would we? We wouldn’t want anyone to know that behind closed doors my good little girl is nothing but a whiny little whore hmm?” He spoke quietly in your ear while lightly stroking your cheek.

“No sir, I’ll be quiet. I wanna be a good girl for you.” You can feel your body shake as you take a deep breath in anticipation, still unsure of Jake’s plans for you. Always keeping you on edge, you never know what to expect.

Seemingly pleased with your response he rewards you with the tiniest of smiles before you see his eyes grow darker. Grabbing your throat firmly he slowly maneuvers the rest of his body to fit in between your parted knees.

“Here’s how this is gonna go,” he growls in your ear before letting go of your throat and grips the fabric of your leggings on the inside of your thighs. “I am going to take my sweet time playing with my favorite little pussy and you are going to read me a little story,” he had barely finished his sentence before he ripped your leggings into shreds. “And if you stop reading or make any type of noise that even resembles a moan I will leave you here all warm and wet between your pretty thighs.”

You can’t help but let out a whimper. Jake grips your hips hard, definitely leaving bruises for tomorrow. “That, Angel, is the type of noise I’m talking about. Strike one.” His fingers trail down, almost touching exactly where you want him, but not quite. “Read me my story baby, and you’d better be on your best behavior.”

As you start to read in a less than confident tone you try not to feel too much as Jake trails his fingers up and down your inner thighs before you feel him slowly lay down fully between your legs. “Look at that pretty little cunt y/n. So pretty for me.” He places a soft kiss on your mound, just above the place you desperately needed him. You continue reading, breathy moans slipping out in between words. Mid sentence, Jake slips his finger under your panties and softly pulls them to the side. He places another kiss, this time directly to your clit. Somehow, you manage to stay mostly composed and keep reading, a small moan escapes as you finish the chapter you started.

A harsh slap against your thigh brings you back to the present. “Now, did I not ask you very nicely to read me a story angel?” Jake growls into your dripping pussy.

“Yes sir, you did. I’m sorry” you moan out. Another smack of his hand lands on the same spot, the pain mixed with the pleasure being almost too much to handle.

As you struggle to focus on reading, Jake sucks your clit harshly into his mouth, taking you by surprise. A moan far too loud escapes you and at the same second you hear loud footsteps coming down the hall. Jake rips the book from your shaking hands and gives you a less than pleased look. “Looks like we’re gonna have to fix that little noise problem of yours princess.”

Jake stands up from the couch and while holding eye contact he starts to strip the lower half of his body until it is completely bare and you can see his heavy cock bobbing up and down as he moves.

“Hands,” he spat harshly. Eagerly you hold your hands out to him, afraid to rile him up further. He pulls his belt from the jeans he discarded to the floor and pulls it until the belt is tight and slightly uncomfortable around your wrists, but you didn’t care. He knows as well as you do that right now you are nothing but his little toy and your purpose is to sit pretty and shut up until told otherwise. “Remember your safe word pretty girl? And how to tell me to stop if you can’t use your words?” He tugs on the belt, ensuring you could get loose. “Y-yes sir,” you manage to squeak out. “ My safe word is Amp, and I do three snaps if I can’t talk.”

You watch him bend down to grab his black boxers. “Now, here is how this is gonna go, Angel,” He says as he crawls over to you, never breaking the intense eye contact. “I am going to stuff your pretty mouth with my boxers so that you cannot and will not be able to make a sound,” he says, and before you can answer he is tapping your chin lightly, asking you to open up. But you know that it is not a request.

You swallow your spit and let your jaw fall open. Gently, he takes his boxers and presses them into your mouth. He watches as you grind your teeth, trying to move the gag to a more comfortable place. “Such a good little whore for me, aren’t you? Nothing but a hole for me to fuck, isn’t that right sweetheart?” You nod enthusiastically, knowing you can’t speak. You’ve always loved Jake’s darker side, loved when he fucks you so hard you melt into whatever surface you happen to be defileing.

He pushes you down, fully laying on the couch. “Arms above your head, and do NOT make me repeat myself.” You do as you’re told, and grip onto the armrest of the couch.

Giving you hardly any time to prepare yourself you feel him slide into you with little to no effort seeing as you’ve completely soaked not only yourself, but the couch and him. Once he has stuffed you full it becomes abundantly clear that he would not be going easy on you.

You couldn't stay quiet even if you tried, and as he drove into you so hard you saw stars, your jaw slacked and muffled noises rang out. Jake roughly grabbed your throat, pulling you up to his face almost folding you in half, still fucking you. ‘’Little baby can't shut up while a cock is inside her needy little cunt huh?’’ he growled out. ‘’Just yours,’’ you gasped out around the fabric in your mouth. Jake faltered for only a second before he got back to his ruthless pace. ‘’That’s right Angel. Only my cock,’’ he said in a gravelly voice.

Letting go of your throat, he let you fall back down onto the plush couch before leaning over you and slapping your cheek. And as your eyes widened in surprise and arousal he yanked his boxers out of your mouth. ‘’Alright Angel, be as loud as you want. Let them all know who is fucking you like this,’’ he said as his hand came down on the side of your thigh making the sound echo in the room. A moan immediately spills out of your mouth loud enough for anyone in the hall to have heard. Jake smiled down at you and drove into you harder and somehow deeper, reaching that spot that only he had ever been able to reach. You bring your still bound wrists over his head and use them to bring his face closer and pull him into a deep kiss. As always he kissed you back for a while before pulling back. Though his movements had become more gentle you knew it wouldn't last.

Jake pulled out of you completely before roughly grabbing you and flipping you over so that your face was pressed against the back of the couch. Thinking he was going to slide back into you you wiggled your ass at him while giggling, but as your giggle rang out it was quickly replaced with a gasp and a long high pitched moan. Jake was grabbing both of your cheeks and spreading you wide open as he ran his tongue from your clit all the way up to the dimples on your back. Draping his body over yours he sucks your earlobe into his mouth before biting it. ‘’One day Angel, I'm going to pump that pretty ass full of my cum and watch it drip back out of you.’’ he whispered into your ear before pulling back and grabbing your hair making you look up at him. ‘’Open,’’ he demanded. You shoot him an innocent look keeping your mouth sealed shut.

Jake raised one of his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly to the side before you visibly saw his eyes grow darker again. In a split second he gripped your hair tighter forcing you closer to him as he drove himself back into you so harshly that your eyes rolled all the way back and your mouth hung open. ‘’Look at me, I’m fucking you so nicely. You ought to remember your manners, little girl,’’ he said, grabbing ahold of your throat. ‘’S-sorry S-ir,’’ you stammered out and when your eyes locked with his he pulled your hair again. Breathless, loud moans were flowing out of you. As your intense eye contact fueled his rough thrust, he briefly looked away and spit right into your mouth. You turn your face and pull him into a kiss, pushing the mix of your spit into his mouth. A loud moan passes his lips, and just as Jake starts picking up the speed of his thrusts there’s a pounding knock at the door.

“Jacob Thomas Kiszka, quit fucking y/n and get your ass out here and get ready for the show. We’re on stage in an hour!” Josh’s shrill voice carries down the hall.

Jake, obviously pissed off at the interruption, thrusts into you hard. You feel his hot breath in your ear as he lets out a growl. “We are so far from finished angel, but it looks like I have to go do my job. You’ll stay here and clean up our mess. And don’t even think about fucking touching yourself. We will pick this back up at the hotel.’’

Gently he pulls out of you and with a frustrated sigh he grabs his own clothes and starts to get dressed. ‘’I will be back in a minute with some new clothes for you my love,’’ he says as he leans down to kiss your forehead. And as he leaves you sink back into the couch with a sigh.

This is going to be a long night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The end <3 .... or is it????

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiskza #greta van fleet fanfiction #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x y/n #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka fanfic

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aflame4goinghome · 3 months

Text

Kay’s Fic Recs !

i wanted to update my fic recs from last year, so here it is 🥰

all of these fics are 18+ and contain smut! read at your own discretion ;)

Josh:

- The Art of Life by @gvfgal

- Brightest Blue by @garbagevanfleet

- Valtava by @gretavanlace

- Picket Fence Dreams by @josiee-gvf

- The Meditation Room by @fleet-of-fiction

- Champagne & Fireworks by @sacredjake & @gold-mines-melting

Jake:

- Mine by @gretavanstink

- Covet by @jakeyt

- Le Morte D’Arthur by @joshym

- Cream & Sugar by @sacredthefran

- Sémillante by @profitofthedune

- The Red Medallion by @earthlysorrows

- Capital Vices by @builtbybrokenbells

- Pedagogue by @profitofthedune

- Mirror of the Damned by @alwaysonthemend

- Heartbreak Hot Seat by @builtbybrokenbells

- Poolsides and Pizza Boxes by @builtbybrokenbells

- Little Miss Sunshine by @builtbybrokenbells

- Imber by @gretavangroupie

Sam:

- Pink Lemonade by @garbagevanfleet

- Seven by @garbagevanfleet

- How I’m Imagining You by @geminisecrets

- Lucky by @gretavangroupie

- Talk by @ageofhearingloss

- Locked Out by @sparrowofthedawnsworld

Danny:

- Little Bird by @gretavanlace

- Time of the Season by @devilathedoor

**apparently i’m in need of danny fic recs myself, so send them my way!!

Twins:

- Poppins by @gretavanlace

- Kismet by @gretavangroupie & @sacredstarcatcher

- Down The Hall by @milkgemini

Forbidden Twins:

- Vigilance by @gretavangroupie & @gretavanmoon

- A Beautiful Riff by @sparrowofthedawnsworld

- Cruel Summer by @sacredstarcatcher

Janny:

- Valor by @gretavangroupie & @gretavanmoon

- Guilty Pleasures by @builtbybrokenbells

- Sweet Little Toy by @gretavanlace

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kissingkiszka · 3 months

Note

so im currently having some 🌶️thoughts🌶️ about Sams hands🥵…do what you please with this request please and thank you

Slow Hands - Sam Kiszka x Reader (smut)

Requested! Ask and you shall receive…

Words: 1.1K+

Summary: On a hike, Sam notices that reader has been eyeing up his hands and wants to do something about it…

CW: MDNI, 18+, SMUT, hands, finger!ng, praise k!nk, degradation k!nk, pet names, fem reader, hiking, smoking, sexual acts in a public space, possibility of voyeurism (?), Idrk

———————————————————

You and Sam sat on a rock by the creek, enjoying your afternoon. You had just gotten done eating your lunch, when you decided to take a small hike over to the creek. The forested area was beautiful. You went for a small swim in the water, and found a spacious rock to relax on afterwards. Listening to the creek flow made it even more relaxing and enjoyable, on top of your amazing boyfriend, who was quite the view just by himself.

Sam reaches into his backpack pocket and pulls out a small blunt. “Look at us, Y/N. In the trees, smoking a tree.”

He lights up, deeply inhaling. You watch the way his fingertips clutch the blunt, and that sight alone is enough to send chills down your spine. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh. “Holy fuck, that shits good.”

He leans back, propping himself up with his free hand. You glance down, taking note of veined and calloused hand, his veins being even more accentuated due to him holding himself up. He takes in the view of the flowing water and the trees all around. Meanwhile, you can’t even take your own eyes off of him. You were do entranced by him, your own thoughts and desires had completely taken over the moment.

Unbeknownst to you, your breath caught in your throat, only to realize it when Sam turned to you, holding the blunt up to his mouth. “You alright?” He asks, slightly concerned. He blows out more smoke and his brows furrow out of concern.

And damn, does he look good doing it.

“Hm?” You ask, confused.

“I dunno.” He shrugs. “You gasped.”

“I did?” You gulp down your embarrassment of the confrontation.

“Yep.” He nods, his lips pressing together. “Thought you swallowed a fly.” He jokes.

“Dunno.” You shrug.

“Just making sure you’re alright.” He smiles, rubbing your shoulder. You feel a heat building inside at the thought of his strong hands touching you. Even worse that they’re actually touching you now.

Your head falls back at the feeling of his hand on your shoulder.

“You like that?” He grins, moving his other hand onto your other shoulder. The shoulder rubs become a full on massage.

“Mhm.” You mumble, feeling his hands roam around your back.

The massage quickly became more sensual, it progressed until his hands were exploring your entire body. You were experiencing true bliss.

“I wanna kiss you right now, princess.” He whispers, his face inching closer towards yours.

“Then do it.” You replied.

He leaned in fully, his lips colliding with yours. You felt fireworks exploding inside your chest. As if the burning fire of desire inside of you wasn't enough already. You were on the way towards combusting any moment now. You absolutely needed him, and you needed him quickly.

“Your lips are so soft. Fuck, sweetheart.” He mumbled.

“Sam.” You plead. “I need you.”

“You have me.” He smirks, his veiny and strong hands slowly traveling lower and lower down your body.

His hands land on your lower waist. His finger begins to play with the hem of your bikini bottom.

You nod, giving him the go ahead. As his fingers travel down lower, your breath catches in your throat once more.

“Wait-”

“What is it sweetheart?”

“What if people see us?” You ask.

“There's nobody here, honey. We’re surrounded by trees in the forest. If we hear someone, we’ll stop. Just try not to be too loud, ‘Kay?” He reaffirms any concerns you have.

You nod, “Kay.”

“Good girl.” He says lowly before he continues moving your bikini bottom to the side. “Did I tell you how good you look in this?” He lifts his chin and looks into your eyes. “This blue really suits you.”

Without warning, he swipes a passionate finger down your soaked folds.

You’re able to make out a bleak ‘thank you’,completely taken over by his fingers.

“Of course, Princess. Such good manners.” He spits out, running his fingers up your entrance. His pointer finger and middle finger land on your clit, eliciting a moan from you.

“Quiet now, baby.” He reminds you.

“Mhm.” You comply.

He continues to run his hands down your slit before entering inside of you.

“So wet.” He sighs. “And I know it’s not from all that swimming we just did.” He lets out a sinful chuckle as his fingers continue to explore your dripping pussy.

You shudder at the sensation, never wanting him to stop. You attempt to grab onto the rock for some leverage, but obviously, you ultimately fail.

“I know you love it. My hands.” He shakes his head, smirking. “I can tell you’ve been staring at them all day long. Don’t they feel so nice inside of you? You dirty girl.” He says, pumping his fingers inside. “Is this what you wanted? To be fingered by me?” He questions, unrestrained.

“Please.” You whimper, to which he ignores.

“Please, Sammy.” You repeat.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Keep going, please.” You plea.

“So needy.” He inhales a sharp breath. He’s just as turned on as you are right now, and you can tell by the rock hard outline of his cock pushed up against his swim trunks.

He plants a passionate but quick kiss to your lips, while you stay hungry for more. You’re eager for him, you’re desperate.

Meanwhile, he takes his thumb and begins to circle your clit with it. The sensitive bud is throbbing and aching, and you’re nearing release.

“Sam.” You plead through weak breath. “Fuck.” You shiver, your back arching at his touch.

“I know, I know.” He murmurs.

You open your mouth to let out a moan before you cover your mouth with your hand, remembering what Sam had told you.

“You remember what I said? Hm? So well behaved for me, baby.” His praises huskily, his fingers venturing deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Sammy.”

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Fuck.” You pant, squeezing your eyes shut and throwing your head back in pleasure.

“You gonna cum soon? Hm? Be a good girl and cum for me.” He eggs you on, and he’s loving it.

“Yes!”

“Good. Only good girls cum for me.” He says picking up the pace. Release quickly catches up to you before you know it.

You continue to squeeze your eyes shut as a hazy wave of stars comes over you. Your vision goes blurry and your mind draws a blank as you come back down to reality. He moves his fingers away, sliding your bikini bottom back into place.

“Holy shit!” You chuckle, catching your breath.

“You’re amazing.” He laughs along with you, before leaning in and kissing your cheek. “I’m so glad I could please you.”

You blush. “Oh, you did exactly that.”

“I love you.” He smiles.

“I love you too.” You reciprocate.

“Shall we finish off our hike?” He goes to stand and reaches out his hand for you to take.

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samfkiszka · 3 months

Text

Paper Bag: Chapter One

Vampire!Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Hunger Hurts, and I want him so bad, oh, it kills…

★・・・・・・★

Forced to move back to your father's hometown the summer before your first year at college, you had resided yourself to the fact that the next few months were going to suck.

But that was before you were reacquainted with Danny next door. And before you got a brand new job at a dusty old bookstore run by an eccentric old woman. And before Jake walked into said bookstore, poised to turn your entire world upside down.

Word count: 7,169

Warnings (for this chapter): Light cursing, very vague mentions of a grandparent's passing, maybe some slight spelling errors… (that's literally it)

Chapter 2

Master list

taglist form if you’re interested <3

★・・・・・・★

The incessant whining of a nagging mosquito awakens you from your daydream of sunnier places and brings you back to reality; the reality that you were moving thousands of miles away from your quaint beach town to the vast green that sped past you now. Your father was busy droning on and on about how good this change was going to be. You had to stick your head out the window to stop from losing it inside the interior of his brand new car, a gift from his equally brand new job that had moved him back to his hometown. Sure, you knew deep down you were only going to be there for a summer, and then thankfully it was off to college. Three grueling months of living in this damp swamp that was being passed off as a town. Smacking the side of your neck, you pull your hand back to glance at the gruesome sight. The mosquito twitches involuntarily in your palm, surely a reaction to its untimely and swift death. You could already feel the tingling itch rising up, and by the splatter of blood drying in your hand you knew it was too late. With a sigh, you roll your windows up and turn back your dad who was grinning entirely too much for your liking.

“Can you at least pretend to be happy about this? I know you’re only going to be here for a few months, but I would appreciate it if you tried.”

“I just don’t see why you couldn’t have waited until after I moved out,” you grumbled. This had been a source of tension between the two of you for quite a while now. It wasn’t like you were going to make any friends. Without the help of school you were going to be utterly alone for the next summer. You already missed your friends deeply, longing to see them as soon as possible. But unless they could somehow save up enough for the cross country flight, it seemed to you that you were doomed to a summer of absolutely nothing.

“I know it’s tough. But try to be a little understanding. You used to come here all the time with me to visit Grandma and Grandpa, remember?” He looks away from the road for a second, his face painted with hope. His smile falls when he sees the angry look you’ve been sporting for the entirety of the ride from the airport. “Come on, please, just… cut me some slack. This is going to be great for both of us.”

You hum in response, not knowing what else to say. He sighs, gripping the steering wheel and clearing his throat as the car pulls into a gravel driveway leading to a house that is simply too big for the two of you. It was the kind of house meant for a much larger family, and in its youth that was exactly what resided between its brick walls. Your father, along with his many siblings, spent their youth terrorizing your poor grandparents until they grew up, leaving them alone. Your grandfather’s bird feeder still inhabits the front porch that you had spent many a summer afternoon occupying. You were certain that the room you had always slept in when you visited, the room that was now expressly yours, would be the exact same as it was in your childhood. Just as this house had seemed untouched by time, as did every neighboring one.

Your father, obviously attempting to get back on your good side has hauled what little bags you had packed up the porch steps, setting them down to unlock the door. Thanks to his arrival merely a week before yours, mostly everything had been unpacked. You were silently grateful that you would not have to spend days unpacking painful memories. Not that you were in the mood to thank your father for anything in particular right now. All that was left to do was sulk in your new, yet familiar, bedroom. But before you had the chance to angrily stomp up the stairs, the old doorbell that you didn’t even know existed rang out through the house. You peer past the entry way as your dad heaves the heavy oak door open, revealing a slightly familiar face.

“Hello, Daniel.” Your father welcomes the boy in, seeming exasperated at his appearance. If this Daniel had noticed it, he simply ignored it, grinning ear to ear and surveying the room.

“Danny,” he corrected swiftly before continuing, “I was just wondering if-”

As if your father could read minds he waves in your general direction, answering Danny.

“She’s here. Not in the best of moods, but-”

“I can hear you.” You interject, striding into the room and taking Danny’s appearance in. He was wearing a shirt that seemed too small for him, and his remedy for this was clearly chopping the sleeves off. He was too tan for the apparent lack of sun in this town, and he took every opportunity to flash his perfect teeth at you.

“Hey! It’s nice to finally see you again!” He reaches his hand out and you take it hesitantly. His skin is far too warm considering it was barely sixty degrees outside.

“Again?”

“You remember the Wagners, don’t you honey?” Your dad casually drops the name as if it would enlighten you any further. It’s not like you had ever spent longer than a week here. Of course you didn’t remember the Wagners.

“I’m Danny, I live across the street from your grandparents- well, from you guys,” He offered, dropping your hand and casually stuffing his back into the pockets of his shorts, “You used to hang out with my sister when you were younger.”

You rack your brain, trying to pull up any memory that would help. You get vague flashes of a boy your age, somehow recalling a sister slightly younger than the two of you that you always preferred to play with.

“Oh!” You gasp, feigning surprise and hoping it satiates both him and your father, “Yes Danny and Josie. Of course I remember you two.”

“Daniel has been stopping by all week asking when you’d be here,” Your dad mumbles to you, and if this information embarrassed Danny he surely doesn’t let it show. As if tired of this boy’s presence, your father drifts out of the room leaving just the two of you to talk.

“Sorry about all that,” you mumble apologetically, “I’ve been in a shitty mood all day, I think I set him off.”

“No, It’s definitely my fault. I really have been bugging him all week,” Danny laughs so effortlessly that it almost puts you at ease. Maybe you weren't as friendless as you thought you’d be. “Josie went to summer camp this summer and I’ve been insanely bored,” he explains.

“You didn’t go with her?”

“Nah, too old. Kinda thought I’d stay here and cause a bunch of trouble,” he laughs easily again, “Plus, I’ve got a summer job down at the golf course. Certified cart boy,” he finished with a sense of unearned pride and you bite back a laugh that was sure to come off as harsh.

And in all honesty, a summer job didn’t seem like an awful idea. Sure, you knew it was a bad idea to set down roots considering you were leaving soon enough; but, could it really hurt to make a few friends? To have a reason to get out of the house every day? And it’s not like a little extra cash wouldn’t help.

“Are they still hiring?” You ask, your voice laced with hope.

“No,” he frowns, looking sincerely sorry that he won’t be able to offer you a job. “But I heard the bookstore down on Sun Avenue is looking for a cashier, ” He added with another pearly white grin.

Sun Avenue. How ironic, you think to yourself, mulling over the idea. A bookstore doesn’t sound half bad anyway, in fact it seemed a near perfect fit for you.

“That would actually be great! Is there a number I could call, or-”

“No, don’t worry. I know the owner!” He beamed. Of course he knew the owner. Danny seemed like he knew the entire town. “If you want to meet me there tomorrow, I can introduce you to Mrs. Palmer. I’m sure she’ll love you. She’s pretty desperate too, most people leave during the summer. I bet she’d hire you on the spot.”

“Yeah, trust me, I’d rather spend my summer anywhere but here too.”

“It’s not all that bad,” he mumbled, a look of hurt crossing over his otherwise overly joyous face, “You can always hang out with me.”

You felt bad for a moment. For a boy you barely knew you were eager to make him smile and laugh again. It was nice to have someone in your corner despite your unwillingness to be here.

“That’s true. I’d love to hang out with you. And, yeah I can meet you at the bookstore tomorrow. I really appreciate it,” you reply earnestly, unable to stop the smile that spread across our face mirroring his own. His positive energy was honestly infectious.

“Great! I can meet you there tomorrow around noon!” He beams, bouncing with excitement and making his way to the door. Your dad reemerged from wherever he had been hiding as soon as Danny left.

“That kid has got to be on something,” he shakes his head, eyeing the door like Danny could bust in at any moment. “Or maybe I’m not used to someone smiling that much.” He nudged your side, attempting to get back in your good graces.

“Hah hah hah,” you mumble sarcastically, rolling your eyes and beginning your trek upstairs to your room. The door creaks open and you are pleasantly surprised to see your dad had decorated it in an almost identical fashion to your old room. Staring at the posters that adorned the walls, you started to feel like maybe you had never left home at all. The bed was even slightly bigger than your old one, a concession you were pleased to make. Flopping down with a huff, you glare at the ceiling, noticing the glow in the dark stars you had foolishly placed up there one year were still stuck to the ceiling.

Exhaustion from your early flight washed over you. You were never really a morning person. Fighting the urge to fall asleep you gently lift up, staring out the window at the setting sun. The clouds covered up what could be a beautiful scene, the usual pink and orange hue you were used to back home suddenly replaced by gray and green. You pull the purple curtains closed, grimacing at the ugly hue you had picked out when you were younger. Maybe you’d be able to convince your dad to replace them with newer ones. You were, afterall, displaced and depressed.

The floorboards were awfully loud as you went from room to room, making a mental map of each one. Your father had left his parents’ room untouched, evident in the fact that your grandmother’s glasses still sat on her nightstand. You smile softly, not lingering too long before you make it to the bathroom to ready yourself for bed. Everything in this house seemed to make unnecessary noises, the knobs on the sink squeaking as you turned them around to allow the water to flow out. After a confusing few moments of trying to find where your father had put everything, you were ready and back in your room. Your bed was a lot more comforting than you recalled, lulling you to sleep quickly. Not even the nervousness of meeting up with Danny could keep you up. Soon enough you were gone, dreaming of home.

But the good dreams didn’t last as long as you had hoped. What started off as a pleasant image of your old backyard full of friends and sunshine was soon replaced with something much darker. You can’t quite make out the scene, but soon you were thrashing against the covers and slamming a hand to your neck. When you pull it back a speckle of blood is adorning your fingers. You realize with a groan that you had scratched the mosquito bite so hard in your sleep that it had begun to bleed. You had dark blood under your nails and you wince at the faint burning feeling that now plagued your skin. Shaking your head as if it would expel the dream, you lean up to peer at the alarm clock settled on the bedside table.

Despite your rowdy dreams you had managed to sleep in well past when you had planned to wake up. Massaging your temples you remember your promise the day before to meet Danny at the bookstore.

Ambling sleepily across the expanse of your new room you tore your curtains open to reveal another gloomy day. Somehow you managed to get ready with clothes scattered around several open suitcases and your vague remembrance of where your dad had put everything from the night before. Traipsing down the stairs, you peer into your dad’s office, mumbling a good morning that he barely acknowledges as he continues to work on something clearly more important. The kitchen is all but barren and you wonder how he had been surviving the week before you got here. You make a mental note to stop at the grocery store after the bookshop, and you leave a note on the fridge for your dad telling him where you were going.

The walk into town is uneventful, but you are shocked that you somehow remember how to get there. It’s like your feet carry themselves, subconsciously remembering this area from when you were younger. Your odd dreams from last night are distant in your mind, and you ignore the nagging thoughts that urge you to go back to it. Soon enough you’re standing outside Palmer’s Books and More!, greeting an always cheerful Danny. He had traded his sleeveless tee for a somewhat more appropriate outfit, one that you soon realized was his work uniform, yet he still sported his pearly white grin.

“You okay? You look a little tired,” he teases, poking your side and earning a glare from you.

“Gee, thanks,” you grumble, smoothing out your shirt and suddenly feeling very nervous, “I didn’t sleep great last night. Do I really look that bad?”

“No! You look great!” He flushed, but came back quickly. “Mrs. Palmer is gonna love you, I swear.”

You frown, anxiety coursing through your body. He pushes through the door and the two of you are immediately greeted by an older lady, who you assumed to be Mrs. Palmer. She was smaller than the both of you, her stature swallowed by the oversized white sweater she was wearing. Everything else about her seemed too big in comparison to her height. Her glasses covered half her face, magnifying her piercing eyes. She grinned at Danny, eyeing you suspiciously.

“Hello, Daniel! You brought a visitor?” Everyone in this town was entirely too cheerful for you, you decided.

“Yes ma’am. This is my friend I was telling you about! The one that just moved here.”

You don’t have much time to wonder when he had had the time to talk to her about you specifically. You introduce yourself, leaning down to shake her hand. You are thoroughly surprised when she pulls you in for a hug instead, knocking the wind out of you. Danny stifled a giggle and you mentally prepared to kick him as soon as you were out of view from anyone who could chastise you for it.

“Oh, you have no idea how happy I am to meet you,” she began rambling, “I knew your father when he was just a baby. I went to school with both of your grandparents. Well, it was just a tragedy when they- But, of course… Yes, that is simply the passage of time. I missed your family dearly, I am so pleased that you’re back.”

Not knowing what to say in response to all that, you simply smile as she pulls back and wipes a lone tear from her eye.

Was everyone in this town crazy? You wonder, as she leads you and Danny around the store. Despite obviously being here a thousand times before, Danny listened in awe as she explained the history of the store and where everything was located. She never once offered you the job, seemingly operating under the conclusion that you were without a doubt the newest- and only other- employee of her shop. Not that you minded in the slightest; the idea of a formal interview was much more frightening than whatever this was.

“So… Can you start today?” She asks, wringing her hands together. She had a curious habit of pausing as she spoke, starting sentences and never quite finishing them.

“Today?” you try to hide the shock in your voice. It’s not like you had planned much today besides restocking the empty kitchen, but you wouldn’t mind the mind numbing tasks. The job didn’t seem very hard, and not a single customer had walked in since you and Danny had begun your little tour.

She stared up at you hopefully, and you felt your stomach twist. How could you say no?

“Uh- Yes! Yes, of course, I can start right now!” You try to sound as excited as possible, eyeing Danny nervously as he continues to sport his all too familiar smile. Surely this wasn’t how real jobs operated.

“Amazing!” He clapped his hands together loud enough that you almost jumped, “I’ll come visit you after I get off and we can walk home together.” He bounces out of the store, waving at the both of you.

Mrs. Palmer vanished for a moment, coming back with a name tag that she had hurriedly scrawled your name on. She explained how the cash register worked, and although it was very intuitive, you were grateful for the extra explanations. The longer you focused on menial tasks the less time you had to dwell on everything; your new home, your new friend, your strange dreams. Of course as soon as she realized you understood, she vanished once again.

Your shift passed by slowly, only a handful of people stopping by to purchase new arrivals you had never heard of. A few of them recognized you, reaching across the counter to hug you or shake your hand. You were almost ashamed to admit that you did not know who any of them were. Your theory that everyone who lived here was entirely too gleeful was proven even more correct with each passing hour. Despite the gloomy weather, everyone brought in the same cheery disposition, and as the sun began to set you wondered how you could ever fit in without radiating the same sunshine they all did. The store was mere moments from closing when the door rang once more, causing you to look up from the paperwork Mrs. Palmer had asked you to fill out as part of your unofficial application.

This customer seemed different from the rest of the earlier visitors. For one, the grin that graced his face was nowhere near as ear splitting as everyone else’s. It was better described as a smug smirk. Secondly, the almost blinding paleness of his skin felt more fitting for this weather than the tan everyone else was sporting. He almost floated around the shelves, and you tried not to stare as his long fingers danced over the books. He chuckled at seemingly nothing, and you shook yourself out of your stupor. You hadn’t meant to look for so long; well, you hadn’t planned on getting caught. Surely, no one could blame you for being unable to pry your eyes off of him. You have never seen someone more beautiful. His long brown hair fell in slight waves past his shoulders, framing his nearly bare chest. He was wearing a black button up, opting to leave only the bottom two buttons fastened. His neck was adorned with several silver necklaces, and despite the setting sun he had a pair of circular black sunglasses covering his eyes; which you were sure were just as gorgeous as the rest of him. His face was nearly indescribable and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from attempting to take in every detail. In fact, every prior thought had left your brain; you were absolutely consumed by this man. You take him in again, trying to drink in every small feature that made him up. You slowly realized he couldn’t be much older than you. Once the haze wore off you were able to digest his almost boyish face. You were just wondering if Danny knew him when you heard him let out a sharp laugh at absolutely nothing.

The sound jolted you from your thoughts and you suddenly felt the need to pay attention to anything but him. You fix your eyes on the old cash register, pretending to be extremely occupied with the amount of money in it when he suddenly clears his throat. You jump back, wondering how he had made it across the store so quickly when he smirks again. Any other person would have you rolling your eyes at their superior attitude, but something about him made you shrink back.

“Hello. I was wondering if you had Candide in stock yet?” His voice was sickeningly sweet, as if his tongue was dripping in honey as he spoke.

“Candide?”

“You know… Voltaire?” He continues, pulling his sunglasses off to reveal a pair of striking ochre colored eyes.

“I.. I literally just started today. Um, I could help you look… I-” You stammer out as Mrs. Palmer comes ambling out of her office.

“Jacob!” She exclaims happily, holding a rather worn book gently in her frail hands.

He slightly bows to meet her, graciously accepting the book from her and gently tucking it under his arm.

“Thank you, Evelyn. How much do I owe you?”

You couldn’t help but huff out in annoyance at his dismissal of you. For some odd reason you felt the need to prove yourself to him. He grins again, letting out a quiet chuckle you were sure Mrs. Palmer didn’t hear.

“Absolutely nothing!” She waved dismissively, quickly turning back to her office.

“Don’t be silly!” he called, pulling a black leather wallet out of his pants. He pulled out several bills, pulling her back and slipping them into her palm in a discreet handshake. “I have more money than I need and nothing to do with it.” He smiled sweetly, his pink lips stretching across his rather pale skin. His soft, yet alluring, voice seemed oddly familiar to you. Maybe you had met him before, years ago. It’s not like this was a very large town. Mrs. Palmer flushed, waving him off but still pocketing the cash he had handed to her. She waves a quick goodbye, fluttering back to the office she so enjoyed to disappear to.

Yet, Jacob stayed put, only turning to you once you both heard the slam of the office door.

“I don’t think I know you,” He whispers, his boots making quiet clicking noises on the linoleum floor.

“I… Well my dad and I, we just moved back here. Um, I used to come here every once in a while though. My grandparents live here, or they did before-” you cut yourself off, feeling like you were telling him entirely too much.

“Hmm.” He hums as he flips through his recent purchase. He was much too nonchalant for your liking. Usually, you would prefer this kind of behavior, especially after spending a day interacting with some of the most cheerful people you had ever met. But you wanted, no you needed, him to like you. “And, you are…?” He inquires, and you quickly respond with your name.

“And you’re Jacob.” You posit.

“Mhm. Just Jake is fine.”

Jake didn’t seem as fitting as Jacob, which truthfully didn’t seem to fit him very well either. He seemed like he belonged in a century much earlier than this one. The way he spoke, the way he held himself, he just simply did not seem real.

“You’re not walking home alone tonight are you?” He wondered aloud, barely addressing you, and you immediately felt defensive.

“No, my friend is walking me back.”

“Good. You have no idea what kind of… monsters are lurking these streets,” He leans across the counter slightly, his face inches from yours. The teasing lilt in his voice only served to intrigue you more.

As if you summoned him Danny comes sauntering in, his usual grin fading as soon as he spots Jake. Jake had pulled back the second the bell attached to the door rang, and he turned gracefully on his heel.

“Ah, Wagner. Nice to see you again,” Jake’s smug smirk was back, and Danny grimaced at his words.

“Kiszka,” he grumbles, skirting past Jake. Jake glides out, and Danny follows him with his eyes until he is fully out of the store. “God, that guy gives me the creeps.” He shivered to emphasize his point.

“You know him?” you ask as you gather your things, shooting a quick goodbye to Mrs. Palmer.

“I know of him. He moved here like two years ago with his brothers. They’re all really weird. Their younger brother went to school with us but he never really bonded with anyone. They kind of all just stick to themselves. Well, Jake goes out and about a lot, mostly at night,” He begins, holding the door open for you as you both start down the sidewalk and towards your houses. He glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot before continuing, “I kind of feel bad for them. No parents, no other family, just each other. But, they’re kind of… freaky,” he whispered the last word and you giggled at his reluctance to speak freely.

“Don’t laugh! I swear, that guy is everywhere.” He glanced around him as if to emphasize his point.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were scared Daniel.” You tease him, nudging his side. But he didn’t laugh back.

“I'm serious. I’d stay away from that guy, there’s something super off about him.”

“He seemed okay to me.” You shrug, more intrigued than put off. “What do you mean they have no family?”

“I don’t know a ton about the story, just what I heard from around. But… I think their mom and dad died a few years back. Maybe a car accident or something? And as soon as Jake was old enough he adopted Sam, even though they aren’t much older than him. I’m not sure how it works honestly. They live in this huge house just outside of town. No clue how they afford it, none of them work,” he scoffed, obviously annoyed by their mere presence in his town.

You hummed, taking in all that Danny had said. And yet all you could think about were his striking eyes… and how beautiful his face was. You didn’t really care if Danny thought he was dangerous. From what you learned, he seemed like he had been through a lot, especially for someone so young.

“I know I can’t control you, but just be careful, okay? He really gives me the willies.”

You had arrived at your front door. The glow from the porch light illuminated his face, which was creased with worry.

“The willies? I can protect myself, I promise.” You take his hand and wrap your pink around his, “Pinky promise,” you emphasize.

He smiled softly again, squeezing your finger and reluctantly letting your hand go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Can’t let you walk to work alone.”

“Not with all those monsters, huh?” You tease.

“Yeah, yeah. No monsters. See ya,” he calls, already heading over to his house.

“Night, Danny.”

With a sigh you heave open the heavy front door, waving goodnight to your father who was so entrenched with work he was barely able to acknowledge you. Trudging up the creaky stairs, you wondered how so much had changed in the span of twenty-four hours. With the prospect of a biweekly paycheck and a slightly overbearing new friend, living in this sunless town seemed slightly more bearable. Not to mention your meeting of a rather… interesting stranger. You tried to push all thoughts of Jake out of your brain, to absolutely no avail. Something about him invaded all your senses from the moment he stepped into that damn bookstore.

You fall onto your bed rather ungracefully, shoving your face into your pillow and groaning. Barely a day in this town and you’ve already developed a slightly unhinged and rather unhealthy obsession with a stranger you barely just met. Part of you hoped that he would be a regular customer, and from his interaction with Mrs. Palmer, you were sure he would be. You’d be sure not to mention your secret hope to Danny, considering his reaction to the very short interaction he shared with Jake. Danny’s odd prejudice aside, he hadn’t said anything truly worrying about the man.

You slept peacefully that night, no more strangely vivid dreams to plague your mind. In fact, when you woke up you had absolutely no memory of dreaming at all.

Work was agonizingly slow the next morning. Even the walk to the store with Danny was surprisingly uneventful. It didn’t help that the entire day you had been hoping to catch a glimpse of Jake. Even just his passing silhouette in the street would ease the slight ache in your chest. You weren’t one to obsess like this, especially not over a man you didn’t know. But you longed to get to know him, to learn what made him so intoxicatingly alluring,

And to your surprise, and satisfaction, he did show. In fact, an entire week passed and he visited every single night you occupied the space behind the register.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened. He would come in, speak to you softly, purchase a worn book, and leave the store as soon as Danny popped back in to escort you home. You had grown increasingly fond of this routine. Deep down, you assumed this is all you were going to get from him anyway.

That was until Saturday night.

Of course, he caught you entirely off guard when he arrived. He glided in gracefully, once more at night, all while you were absentmindedly stocking a dusty front shelf. He cleared his throat calmly when you failed to notice his arrival, and you nearly jumped ten feet in the air at the abruptness of it all.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” He murmured casually, his voice just as velvety as you remembered.

“No, it’s okay. I’m pretty easily startled,” You chuckle nervously, wiping your hands on your pants and turning to give him your entire attention. “Can I help you with anything?” You try to ignore the slight shaking in your voice as you fail to look him fully in the eyes.

He had opted to forgo the pair of glasses he usually wore when you crossed paths, leaving his extremely vibrant eyes on full display. Once again he was wearing an almost completely unbuttoned shirt, allowing you to take in the expanse of his bare chest. He was close enough now that the barrier of the front counter was gone that you could make out the dangly pendants that decorated his neck in extreme detail.

“Maybe,” he mused, a pleasant look washing over his features, “I’m looking for another book.”

“Yeah, most people who come in are looking for books,” you try to tease, failing to do so when your voice shakes slightly. “Anything in particular?”

“No. If I'm being quite honest I came in here to see you again,” he professed, grabbing a book and flipping through the pages before sliding it back into its proper position. “I seem to have failed to come up with a good enough lie in time though… I had more than enough time to.”

“Honesty is usually the best policy.” You steady yourself, trying to ignore the quickening pace of your heart at his admission. He smiles widely, and you wondered if he could somehow hear the palpitations.

“Usually. Sometimes it’s much more appealing to lie,” He paused for a moment, seeming pensieve, “I wouldn’t mind rereading something by Camus.”

“You’re really into French literature, huh?” You ask, leading him down to the aisle where you were sure to find something by his requested author. “You know, most people come in here looking for a good romance novel. Maybe a really bad mystery. You might be the only person who’s ever seen this part of the store.”

“I find that most people here don’t look that deeply.”

You wondered if this had something to do with how people thought of him. Throughout your morning walks with Danny you had come to learn that he wasn’t the only person in the town that harbored negative feelings towards the elusive Kiszka brothers. You still couldn’t quite understand why. He seemed more than perfectly fine to you.

“Ah…” he whispered, pulling a battered copy of The Stranger off the shelves. He blew the dust off the cover and turned it over in his hands. “I always enjoyed Camus' perspective on life.”

“Really? So, ‘life has no meaning and death is the only certainty in life?’”

“I said I enjoyed his viewpoints, not that I agreed with them. I simply find them entertaining. Death is never guaranteed, and life certainly isn’t without purpose.”

“So what do you suppose is the purpose of life?” You continue, choosing to ignore his claim that death isn’t everyone’s promised ending.

“Isn't it all about creating your own purpose?” he observed, finally looking back up at you. He studied your face for a moment, and you felt overwhelmed by the sudden attention. You thought, for just a mere moment, that his eyes flickered down to your lips before they skirted back up to your eyes. You shied away from his eye contact, coughing nervously and turning back to face the shelf.

“Very philosophical Jacob.”

“Jake,” he corrected.

The two of you stood in silence for a beat, and you were completely unsure of what to say next. You had glossed over his profession of coming in to simply see you, and now you wished you hadn’t. On a better day, with someone who was easier to talk to, you would have teased him. Maybe even mustered up the courage to flirt with him. But something about Jake terrified you.

He cleared his throat again, and you were pleased to find him looking ever so slightly nervous himself.

“I was… I was wondering if you would like to go out with me one night.” The words lacked his usual self assuredness, which shocked you slightly.

You tried to stop your jaw from completely detaching from your skull. Surely you had gone so far past the point of delusion that you were now hallucinating- rather vividly, you might add- that Jake was… asking you out. He seemed to grow impatient and slightly frustrated with your lack of a response, and yet he composed himself better than you could dream of.

“Go out? Me?” You mentally punch yourself for not being able to come up with a better response. Your desperate need to make him like you only grew stronger with each interaction. You wondered if he knew how he affected you, and by the way you could barely look at him you were sure he did.

“Preferably. I’d hoped I made that clear,” he laughed, and your heart skipped a beat. You wondered if his was pounding quite as hard as yours. He smirked again at absolutely nothing.

“Um,” it was like you had forgotten every word in the English language. This was so thoroughly unlike you. Usually you had more than enough to say.

Say something! Anything!

Your brain was positively screaming at you in a voice that surely didn’t belong to you.

“Yes. I would love to,” you say definitively, unsure how you had even gathered the ability to speak when he was staring at you so intensely.

“‘Perfect. Tonight?” His tone was eager and you wanted to soak in the hopeful look that knitted his brows together.

“I- Danny. Danny’s already walking me home tonight…”

Goddamn Danny.

As if on cue, he sauntered through the door of the building. He was less than pleased with Jake’s nightly visits, and he didn’t bother to hide it. He was never anything less than frustratingly punctual to interrupt your conversations. It seemed his slight distaste surrounding him had grown to near hatred. He always seemed to grimace when you brought him up, despite your attempts to not sound too interested when you spoke his name.

“I’m sure he won’t mind walking home alone without you for just one night.” Jake’s usual velvety voice was back in your ear.

You began to say something before Danny had fully made his way to where you and Jake were standing. You instinctively stepped away from Jake, not really understanding why. Danny’s usual grin slowly faded into a scowl, and you wished you could understand why he harbored such a strange resentment for him.

“C’mon, I wanna get home soon. I think it’s about to start raining,” Danny mumbles, reaching for your arm. He was staring daggers at Jake while he spoke.

“Wait- Just one second Danny,” you give him a sympathetic look, hoping he can sense that you need a moment alone. He grumbles under his breath and steps away, just enough that you can still see his tense shoulders as he leans against a wall opposite you and Jake.

“I’m sorry, he’s just…” you pause, searching for the right words, “How about tomorrow night? I’m off, you can pick me up at home?” You suggested, worried he would hate the idea.

“Of course.” He smiled as you rushed to the front, scribbling your address down on a scrap of receipt paper.

“Beautiful,” he says, staring down at the smeared red ink, “I’ll see you at 6.”

That’s all he leaves you with as he walks out of the store, not bothering to bid Danny a passing glance. You suddenly feel like you’re going to pass out as Danny turns to face you, the anger on his face replaced with a pleased look. He was always happy to see you. He gives you a moment to gather your things and you walk in silence for a while. You can tell he’s itching to say something by the way he’s bouncing around and refusing to meet your face.

“Danny, if you don’t spit it out I’m going to go crazy,” you eventually announce, surprising so much so that he stops in his tracks.

“I just… wanted to know what you guys were talking about is all.”

He sounded like a dejected child, and any other night you would have laughed at his immature tone. But tonight your nerves were entirely too ramped up to indulge his antics.

“He kind of asked me out,” you state matter of factly.

“Kind of?”

“Okay, not kind of. He’s- he’s taking me ... somewhere tomorrow night.” You winced, scared that he would… Well, you couldn’t imagine him angry. But you were more than aware that he didn’t like Jake, and he certainly wouldn’t enjoy you going on a date with him.

To your surprise, he didn’t say anything. This was more than shocking considering he had spent the past few nights on a nonstop tangent about the Kiszka family. You learned about the three brothers: Jacob, Joshua, and Samuel. You learned about the big house that was occupied on the outskirts of town, the big house that no one had ever really visited. For someone who seemingly couldn’t stand the family, Danny knew quite a bit about them. You figured it was unfair that you knew so much about Jake, regardless of how true it was, when he knew nothing about you. You supposed that would be amended tomorrow night, though.

Danny told you about the youngest, Sam, and how he had excelled in school. According to him, Sam was smart enough to be accepted into any Ivy League college. And yet, he stayed in this little town that had nothing to offer. You found that endearing, though you were sure not to reveal that insight to Danny. He never shared a single piece of information that would allow you to understand why he distrusted them, and you had begun to wonder if he ever had a real reason.

And despite all this, he stayed silent. You had spent those earlier nights wishing he would shut up about Jake, and now you found yourself silently begging him to say something again. Even if he screamed, cursed you out, begged you not to go out with him.

Why do you care so much? The little voice from earlier whispered in your head. You didn’t have an answer.

Danny walked in stunned silence until he stopped at the last lamppost before reaching both of your houses. When he finally spoke it startled you.

“I told you I have no control over you. It would be insane of me to want that. Look, I really just want you to be happy. And… I don’t really hate the guy. Just freaks me out a little. That’s it. Seriously.” Though he didn’t sound like he actually believed the words coming out of his mouth.

“Thank you,” you start, shifting on your feet as you whisper, “I mean it. I know it’s stupid but… you're my only friend here. I wouldn’t wanna piss you off or anything.” You try to laugh but it catches in your throat. Why do you care so much? This time it was your voice screaming at you. “If it makes you feel any better it’s not gonna be anything serious. I'm only here for the summer,” you reminded him, much to his dismay.

“Yeah. I know. Only for the summer. G’night sunshine,” he breathed softly as he led you to your door.

You watched him make his way into his own home, but you stayed glued to the porch long past his departure. Staring at the cloudy sky that was beginning to pour down, you were able to make out one star that was shining a lot brighter than the others. You were too old to believe that wishing on a star would do anything, but that wasn’t going to stop you. You pushed down the embarrassed version of yourself that was screaming at you to not believe in something that foolish, and you silently mouth a single wish before heading inside and collapsing in bed.

#Jake Kiszka #Danny Wagner #Josh Kiszka #Sam Kiszka #Jake Kiszka x re #Vampire!Jake Kiszka #greta van fleet #greta van fic #jake gvf #gvf #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiskza x reader #jake kiszka fic #gvf fanfiction #yes this is a twilight au #jake kiszka is edward cullen #and danny is jacob black sorry

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joshfuckingkiszka · 3 months

Text

『era two』

jmk x f!reader

sowwy guys hope it's good enough to make up for my sins

THIS SERIES IS 18+ MINORS DNI

chapter warnings: SMUT, josh is so cute, confrontation, unprotected sex (you all know what to do), god i love fluffy joshy

✮

Before you knew it, life moved on, you settled into the ebb and flow of a normal college routine. All of sudden, you were a senior, then walking the stage at graduation, and suddenly working a “big girl” job, where you went out for drinks with coworkers on Friday nights.

You never got too drunk, seeing as you no longer wished to spend Saturdays in bed, hungover. When you saw a familiar, but not the same, head of curls, you thought you were plastered.

It wasn’t until Danny and Sam approached you that you realized just how sober you were. They slid in on both sides of your now empty booth, and traced your eyes to your dancing coworkers.

Then you hoped they didn’t notice the alarms going off inside you when one of them approached Josh, a flirtatious smile on her beautifully made up face. She pointed over at your table, presumably trying to show the friends she came with. Upon his eyes noticing his brother’s hand high in the air, and then subsequently your face, you felt hot, almost embarrassed.

Why should you be embarrassed, though? Your situationship with Josh was just that. You certainly hadn’t owed him anything when you fell in love, breaking the unspoken contract you had created.

When your eyes refocused, Josh was no longer with your friend, and you noticed him weaving through the thick crowd to get to you.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you found yourself repeating in various stages of distress. Danny and Sam were confused, as no one else knew about what you and Josh previously had, you were just a friend of the group - including Josh’s identical twin - who all of a sudden stopped showing up to invites.

“Well, if it isn’t a picture of a memory,” Josh spoke, and you noticed that his voice held no anger.

“Maybe you can get her to explain herself.” You playfully elbowed Sam. A look Josh gave the two told them to leave, and Josh took Danny’s spot beside you.

“Hey,” you settled on.

“You ghosted me.” Okay, straight to the point.

“I did.” Good, noncommittal.

“Do you think I deserve an explanation?” Fair.

“I don’t know. Do you?” Fairer.

“Yes.” Damn.

“Okay. You wanted to fuck. That’s why I ghosted you.” You took a sip of your empty drink, but he could barely hear the ice over the music. Led Zeppelin, you think it is. You bet that Josh would know, he was so good with old music. Jake was slightly better, but you would never say that out loud.

“I-I thought that’s what you wanted. Was it not?” The fear in his voice worried you.

“Yes!” you said quickly, like you were terrified of disappointing him. Maybe you were. “It was. Well, at first.”

“Care to elaborate?” He threw his arm around you, and it made a noise as it hit the vinyl of the seat. It was nicely toned now, he had been rather lanky by your memory. His hands had changed too, though you weren’t sure how.

“I was okay with our…situation at first. I was always stressed with class and you were a great stress relief. But, you kept inviting me out, with your friends. You kept holding my hand in public, buying me food, and singing in my shower.”

“Okay. Should I not have been your friend?” He asked earnestly.

“But we weren’t friends, Josh. I fell in love with you, but you wanted to fuck, so I ghosted you. It was immature and I could have handled it better, but I don’t regret it and I will not apologize for putting me first,” You explained, and you couldn’t find it to meet his gaze.

“You’re right, you could have handled it better. Never once did I say that a relationship was off the table, but I understand your thought. Had you told me, I would’ve told you that I was in love with you too.”

His fingers caressed your jaw, bringing you to finally look at him. His eyes held a new weight in them, but looked no different than they had before. That beautiful mahogany color still darkly colored his iris. His lips were exactly as you remembered them, soft and flavored grapefruit by his favorite drink.

He let you catch your breath for a minute, and ordered you another drink.

Then he asked, “How have you been?”

“Good, working a boring job, living with my parents, surviving Michigan winters. You?”

He looked down then back at you. “We’re still in the band, and it’s doing…really well. We signed to a record label and actually just got back from a tour.”

“Wow. Any Grammys?”

“Uh, yeah. Strangely enough.” Wow. You had been joking when you asked but the uncharacteristically serious look in his eyes told you he wasn’t.

“Oh. Didn’t realize I was sitting next to a world famous rockstar,” you lamented jokingly, bowing your head at him, “Does that mean you’re rich enough to buy the next round?”

His cheeks burned that shade of scarlet you had missed so much and you were immediately compelled to tell him you were joking.

“I know, mama,” God, after all this time. The effect that nickname still had on you was absolutely detrimental. “I’m actually probably rich enough to take you on a real date. If you’re up for it, that is.”

You wanted to yell that of course you were up for it! That you had waited years in solitude for those words to slip from those beautiful lips!

But you managed a simple, “I would love that, Joshy.”

Your first date with Josh Kiszka was, in simple terms, a disaster. He had lost track of time and picked you up an hour and a half late, but that was okay because you had just finished getting ready as he arrived at your door, a work project taking a bit more time than anticipated. Traffic had been terrible on the way to whatever surprise location he had in store for you, but it worked out as it allowed him time to show the music Greta Van Fleet had been putting out in your absence. You decided that “You’re the One” was your favorite, but that they were all beautiful and telling of who they were and had become.

When you thought nothing else could go wrong, your reservation wasn’t held, not that you could blame them, and you were forced to find another dinner location. During rush hour. On a Friday. Every other restaurant within a 50 mile radius would have at least an hour wait time, so Josh decided to take it upon himself and grab takeout form what he claimed was “the best Chinese place ever” and the two of you sat in the park, eating crab rangoons and reminiscing about your glory days.

“You thought I was ghosting you?!” He laughed, but as he contemplated why you would think that, it hit him. “Oh my God, I am so stupid! I would open your texts, forget to respond, think that I had responded and get upset that you hadn’t! Then, of course, I would go back to the messages, see I never actually texted you, and hope you wouldn’t be upset.”

“I don’t know that I ever truly was,” you claimed, “I mean, I didn’t love feeling ignored, but whenever you would finally text me, it was like nothing had happened - a clean slate. Eventually, I got to the point where I needed something I felt like you couldn’t give me, and I knew it had to end.”

His face had fallen, and you immediately scrambled to defend him.

“Don’t, mama, I don’t want you to pretend like you’re okay with what I did to you. I’m not okay with what I did to you. But, if you’ll let me, I promise to try and make it up to you.”

How could you deny those puppy dog eyes?

Josh was serious about making it up to you. He randomly brought you flowers of differing varieties, trying to identify your favorite without being told. His kitchen was a regular space of brownies and cookies, trying different recipes he would find on Pinterest. Your date nights were compilations of various cute TikToks you both had seen.

As you sat at his dining room table, acrylic paint in a variety of colors spread between the two of you, you couldn’t hold back giggles as you dramatically portrayed his features. He couldn’t help but do the same. As you showed each other your - frankly, horrible - portraits of each other, tears streamed down your faces and your stomachs hurt from the laughter.

Once the two of you settled down, you moved to clean up the mess the two of you - but mostly Josh - made. Setting the small easels that held your artwork to the side so you could clean the table, you bent slightly at the waist to get one tough spot of brown paint. Suddenly, a pair of large hands were on your hips, and a pair of lips were tickling your neck.

“Josh,” you groaned, “I’m trying to clean your mess!”

“We’ll do it later,” he said matter-of-factly, trying to persuade you. Would it be wrong to say it was working?

“No, you won’t. It’ll dry and,” you shuddered as his lips loosely trailed down your neck, “n-never come o-out. Stop!” You didn’t want him to stop and, based on the smirk you could feel on your shoulder, he knew that.

His hands moved lower, gripping at the supple flesh of your ass. “I’ll buy a new table,” he spoke against the very top of your spine.

“W-why would you d-do that when I can just clean i-it?” His hands had moved around to the front of your body, his fingers slipping just beyond the waistband of your jeans.

“Because I’ve got some other interests I’d like to take care of right now,” he spoke as he popped the button on your jeans.

His fingers stayed on the outside of your underwear, lacy and begging to be pulled off, but trailed down your mons, nonetheless.

“Still wanna clean?” His fingers hovered over where he knew your clit was, and you felt like testing him.

“Yes.” It was stern. He shrugged and pressed the pad of his finger into your clit, over your underwear, and you fought to hold back your back.

Josh moved his finger so slowly that you almost felt like crying.

“Well,” you looked at him, expectantly, “clean, mama. Don’t wanna see a single fucking spot on this table.” You could feel spit on your ear from his speaking through gritted teeth.

With how slow he was going, you figured you could easily clean at the same time. That said, you were trying to ignore just how wet you were getting.

You leaned over - and he followed - as you wiped the table. You could be wrong, but it felt like he was…speeding up? You ignored it, trying to focus on the paint on the table. No, he was definitely increasing the speed of his finger.

Biting your lip, you paused cleaning to let out a small moan. As soon as you did, his finger returned to its original snail pace. You whined at him.

“Only good girls get to cum, don’t forget that.” He held your jaw in his hand as he spoke to you. Looking over your face for any signs of discomfort, and not seeing any, he kissed you deeply.

“C’mon, mama, you wanted to clean so badly, do it.” His finger slid inside your panties, and the hand that wasn’t occupied with a sponge was white-knuckling the table.

“Josh,” you whined out his name, and all of a sudden he didn’t care about upholding you to cleaning.

One of his arms swept anything that remained on the table to the floor, and the other turned you around. His body pushed yours to meet the wooden surface as he kissed you passionately. Your hands roamed his chest under his shirt, warm and golden from the sun. He pulled away only for a second to remove your barrier, and you smiled at him as thanks. Your nails lightly scraped at his pecs, and he groaned at the feeling. Moving your hands down, you pulled at his belt harshly until it eventually came off. He giggled into your mouth, and you followed suit.

He pushed your shirt up lazily, not even bothering to take off your bra either. Simply pulling down the cup, he took your nipple in his mouth. You moaned into his mouth, reaching your hand into his boxers. In return, his hands inadvertently tickled down your sides until he returned to your waistband. His mouth never leaving your chest, he managed to pull down your pants and underwear to your ankles. Josh’s pointer and middle finger joined forces to gently toy with your clit until you were whining for much more.

Deep brown eyes bore into yours as his lips trailed down your stomach and then began an assault on your bundle of nerves. Your hands instinctively went for his hair, unruly and so so curly. Your thighs wrapped around his head and he smiled into your cunt. His tongue created unknown patterns around your clit, occasionally switching to fuck you with it. When you came, you swore you were seeing stars.

You moved down to return the favor, but he pinned you back with his body, holding your hands captive above your head with one of his hands. The other hand moved to just barely reveal his cock to you. Before you could say anything about how badly you needed it in your mouth, he was ever-so-gently sliding into you. In tandem, you let out loud moans, thankful Jake wasn’t home.

Thrusting slowly at first, he slowly built up to a nice pace. One that had him hitting that spot inside of you each time, and making you slightly gasp for air. Meanwhile, his gaze was transfixed on watching it slide in and out of you. Lips parted slightly, and wet from his tongue darting out to moisten them, he let out small pants.

When you began to moan his name, your arousal visible on the base of his cock, he sped up more, his gaze meeting yours. He leaned down to kiss you, and you were suddenly aware of how much sweat the two of you had produced. He was sticky with it but you couldn’t care less as you wrapped your body around his. This unknowingly allowed him to reach a much deeper spot inside you and you both moaned when you felt it. Again, he sped up and his jaw clenched as he tried not to cum before you. He brought one of his hands to your face, gently goading you to suck on two of his fingers. Once he was satisfied, he brought those fingers between your bodies, making quick circles on your clit. This quickly brought you to the edge.

“C’mon, mama, cum for me.” And that sent you right over.

“Want you to cum for me, Joshy. Wanna make a mess on me? Hm? Get me all dirty?” You whispered the last word in his ear, and he groaned as he pulled out and spilled on your stomach.

That goofy smile returned, and then he was off to grab something to clean you up. After his cum was wiped off of your belly, he gently moved you to stand, searching your body for any signs of bruising or discomfort. Then, he was picking you up, bringing you to the bathroom where he filled up the tub with warm water and epsom salts so you wouldn’t be as sore.

“Joshy?” You spoke as he turned to leave the bathroom.

“Hm?”

“Will you…get in with me?”

“‘Fcourse, mama, anything for you.”

〚taglist〛

gvf: @doodle417 , @brokenbellz, @gretavanfleas, @pyrojoshy, @greta-van-chaos, @xserenax-13, @hayley1623, @kdarling1, @autumns30, @keighoe, @chalametpwk, @sammysvanfeet, @shawnsthighs, @gretavanbitches, @sammiejane22, @gretavanbestie, @jordierama, @alexxavicry

josh: @prophetofthedune, @loofypoofy, @gretavangrace

this series: @gvfpal

#josh kiszka #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiskza #josh gvf #jake gvf #sam kiszka gvf #danny wagner gvf #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka x reader #greta van smut #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fic

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losfacedevil · 9 months

Text

All My Love // SFK (Pt 4)

a/n ~ Meet Sam and Lovey, high school sweethearts who have to fight and find their way back to each other. This idea makes me nervous due to the subject matter but has to be one of my most self indulgent ideas in the way of the story line. I hope you all enjoy the roller coaster this is about to become. *Masterlist* 🎵Playlist🎵

WARNINGS: SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTER, ALCOHOL ABUSE, BAR FIGHTS, HOSPITALIZATION, REHAB, MISSING PERSONS - READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. Also if I have missed ANY triggering matter PLEASE LET ME KNOW!! Thank you

Sam paced in front of the receptionists cubicle, his hands buried deep into his hair as he curled his fingers and tugged the hair at the root. Jake watched on silently as Sam continued to melt down, mumbling under his breath as he fought the tears that threatened to spill over his lids. Tilting his head back to reign the moisture in, he pulled a hand roughly down his face and screamed softly into his palm.

“What do you mean you can’t tell us if she was here? This isn’t a hospital there’s no laws keeping you from telling us that information!” Sam wasn’t sure if there was any truth behind what he was spewing, all he knew was that he needed to know Lovey was safe.

Jake took a step forward and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, delivering a gentle and reassuring squeeze to the muscle. Sam calmed slightly as he remembered Jake was still hanging in the sidelines, waiting for his queue to help. The younger boy turned his head in Jakes direction, his big brown eyes sitting even wider on his face as he caught the internal panic he was feeling. Jake took a deep breath and nodded before turning his attention to the woman sat behind the plexiglass shield.

“Is there any way we can talk to the chief of police? I fear Lovey may now be considered a missing person.” Jake kept his voice low, calm and monotone as he spoke, not wanting the range of emotions that ran through him to be present in his communication. The receptionist held her hands up in surrender, fully shaken by the tone Sam had taken with her. She pushed herself to stand, nodding softly and spun on her heel to leave her cubicle - opting to walk away from the situation rather than call down to his office.

“Do… do you really think she’s a missing person, Jay? If she’s not here where could she be?” Jakes heart leapt to his throat, the nickname Sam had ceased using for him years ago slipping past his lips. He shrugged his shoulders gently, giving Sam’s shoulder another reassuring squeeze.

“I don’t know, Sammy, honestly. She’s an adult and can do what she pleases, we may not be able to do anything for her if she doesn’t want us to find her.” Sam took a steadying breath and shook Jakes hand off of his shoulder as the door to their right opened and the police chief stepped out.

“What can I help you with boys?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his pants pockets. Sams eyes found Jakes and he tucked his bottom lip better his teeth, a tell Jake knew meant all too well. He shook his head gently and gave Sam’s shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before he turned to face the office.

“Hi, umm, my name Jake and this is Sam. We uh, had asked your receptionist if she could inform us of someone’s arrest earlier in the night but was told because we weren’t immediate family that there was nothing she could do for us. Is there any way you could tell us if my brothers girlfriend was booked here? And if she’s still here or if she’s been sent to the county jail?”

The officer rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, his eyes trained on the two boys that stood before him. He nodded gently, taking in the disheveled looks of the boys before turning his attention to the receptionist who now sat back at her desk.

“Delores, this girl they’re asking after, is she a minor?” He asked, having a feeling he knew the answer and exactly what was happening. She lifted her eyes to meet the chiefs and shook her head. He sighed and reached a hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

“And this girl, Delores, was she here at all in the past twenty four hours?” He braced himself for the answer, knowing he wasn’t going to like whatever came out of her mouth.

“Well… yes, they brought her in from the other side of town. But…” her voice trailed off as the officer held up a hand to silence her, no longer willing to play her games.

“You can’t keep doing this Delores, you cannot withhold people’s information from their loved ones if they are of age. Only minors need parental figures to bail them out. Now is she still here or was she transferred?” Delores hung her head and pretended to be rifling through the paperwork that sat in front of her, running her finger down one of the papers as if looking for something.

“She posted her own bail about an hour and a half ago.” She mumbled slightly, not wanting to be the bearer of bad news.

Sam’s eyes grew wide and he turned to face Jake, his cheeks beginning to turn a sickly shade of green as realization sunk in. He took off away from the Jake and the officer, slamming his hand into the panic bar on the door and pushed it open as far as it would go.

“Is there anything we can do to try and find her? A missing persons report? An APB? Something?” Jake was grasping at straws - having watched enough true crime shows to know there was most likely nothing the officer could do for him. The officer sighed and shook his head solemnly.

“I’m sorry son but she’s an adult, she’s allowed to leave of her own free will and if there’s no signs of foul play - which in this case there isn’t, there’s not much we can do.” A sigh slipped past Jakes nose as he turned to the officer and thanked him for his help, quickly turning on his heel and followed Sam out.

Sam paced in front of Jakes car, his hands tangled up in his hair to keep it out of his face as his body trying to fight the shock of it all and heaved once more. Jakes heart broke at the sight of his little brother, the sheer thought of maybe never seeing Lovey again shattering the already broken pieces.

“She’s probably broke now, used all her money to bail herself out. Is there anywhere you can think of that she would go without a penny to her name? Family, friends, coworkers… anywhere?” Jake was once again at a loss. There was no guarantee they would find Lovey anywhere, no real guarantee of her being anywhere accessible.

Sam brought a hand down to his mouth, biting into the side of it and screwed his eyes shut as he racked his brain for any bit of information she had given him that could be helpful. He focused on his breathing, trying to calm the rolling waves of nausea that plagued his stomach as her face popped into his mind and his eyes sprung open.

“There’s this one girl… her names Olivia but Lovey calls her Livvy, she usually hangs at the bar by our place and she’s our only hope.”

Jake nodded his head in the direction of his car and quickly unlocked it, watching as Sam slipped into the passengers seat. He wasn’t a praying man but with Sam tucked safely into the car he tipped his head towards the sky and let his eyes flutter shut as he breathed a silent prayer to anyone who would listen.

They needed to find her for Sam’s sake.

A sigh of relief slipped past Sam’s lips as he spotted Olivia just inside the door of the bar, leaned over a pool table as she lined up her shot. He caught her eye almost immediately and she straightened up, nodding in his direction. Sam motioned for her to come outside with him, a silent plea for her to put her game on hold dancing around in his gaze.

Sam ducked back outside, sticking his hands into the small front pockets of his jeans and rested his back against the wall, pressing his foot against it for added support. Jakes eyes were trained on the ground, watching the way his shoe bent as he pressed it against the cement. His mind wandered as he listened to the soft hummed tone slipping past Sam’s lips, a nervous tick Sam had.

“Hey Sammy, hey Love… who’s he?” Jakes head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice and let his eyes roam over the petite girl before straightening out his back and standing at his full height. Sam pursed his lips and with a soft eye roll reached out wrapped his arms around Jakes shoulders.

“This is my brother Jake, but he’s not important. Have you seen or heard from Lovey in the last few hours?” Jake scrunched up his nose and dug his elbow into Sam’s side, typical brotherly banter even with their heightened nerves. Olivia cocked her head to the side and her brows furrowed as her eyes finally met Sam’s.

“Yeah she uh… she texted me like an hour ago that she was headed to the ER downtown. Something about splitting her head open in a bar fight? Well that’s her playing up the dramatics, there’s a cut on the back of her head from the dudes teeth so she wanted it properly cleaned. I thought you were with her or I would have offered to be her moral support. But I can call her.” She shoved her hand into her back pocket and pulled her phone out quickly. Sam shook his head solemnly and shot a quick look in Jakes direction.

“It’s off. She texted me probably around the same time she texted you and now her phone is off. The fuck do we do?” Sam’s voice cracked as tears began to prickle at his eyes once more. Olivia shook her head lightly, slipping her phone back into her pocket and reached up to pull her hand back through her hair.

“So… where do we go from here? She has no family, they won’t tell us anything at the hospital we’re not blood related.” Olivia said, her expression falling as she realized that they were genuinely out of options. A soft sigh slipped past Sam’s nose as he rolled his lips inward and bit down against the flesh.

“We go home and we wait. I uh… I don’t think she wants to be found.” Sam’s voice cracked and he fought the sob that was clawing its way up his throat. He blew a harsh breath out and tipped his head back, training his eyes on the star speckled night sky.

“We go home and we wait. We hope and even though I’m not a praying man, we pray that she comes back to us.”

Tears sprang to Olivia’s eyes as she realized what he was saying. Regret clouded her mind, knowing she should have offered to go with Lovey. She should have met her at the bar like she had asked her to instead of waiting for her to make her way to their regular spot. She knew all to well what would happen when Lovey’s blood alcohol level came back elevated, that they would give her the choice to willing enter a rehabilitation center or would send her to one against her will. Olivia took a step forward and wrapped her arms around Sam’s midsection, burying her face in his chest all too reminiscent of Lovey.

“I’m sorry, Sammy baby, so fucking sorry.”

Sam pulled a shaky breath in through his nose, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall and wrapped his arms around Olivia. He could feel her tiny frame shaking, undeniable tears beginning to soak the front of his sweatshirt as they both came to the same heart wrenching realization.

They may never see Lovey again.

TAGLIST: @readyforthegarden @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @vanfleeter @tommie-gvf @the-wicked-gnome @stardustvanfleet @sinsofstardust @gracev0609 @runwayblues @lightsofthe-living-gvf @mackalah @sunfl0wer-power @twistedmelodies @dannys-dream @chouxsardine @freefallthoughts @silks-up-my-sleeve

#sam kiszka #sam Kiszka angst #sam kiszka fic #sam kiskza fanfiction #sam Kiszka x oc

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gretavanmoon · 2 months

Text

A Perfect Ten - Part 2

Josh x Female Reader FWB

10.9k words

+ After befriending your coworker Josh at your new workplace, the both of you realize you need each other in more ways than one. Things might get a little cloudy as an ongoing judge of actions takes place, leaving the both of you wrapped up in a back and forth neither of you saw coming.

Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, Mention of Breakups and Heartbreak, Allusion to Homophobia (dude being an a**hole), Sadness. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Dirty Talk, Praise, Heavy Flirting, Oral F!receiving, Fingering

Read Part 1 here

“...Sure, why not? If you want to, of course. Might be fun to have a little situation we’re both comfortable with… no strings attached type thing…”

It’d been a week since your heated hookup with Josh on your couch, and though initially you thought things were going to be awkward back at work once the two of you were on the same shift again, surprisingly they were the opposite. Day to day activities had gone back to normal, the both of you working your tails off slinging pizzas and beers at Angelo’s.

Since that night, though, you’d found yourself in a constant state of unsettle, your mind and body going through the waves of being attracted to him while also wanting to slap him on the back of the head like a real friend would. His boyish charm continued to shine through his albeit tough-guy exterior, and the smiles he normally would fight to stave off began to show themselves a little more often in your presence.

The more you worked with Josh, and the more that you began to feel completely comfortable in your work position, the more you began to notice the subtle feeling of his hand on your lower back as he’d reach above you to grab the pizza box on the top shelf, or how he’d tell the line guys to fuck off when they’d take back of house banter too far. You’d also noticed how he would hold your gaze as you finished up a story to your coworkers, his perfect white teeth nearly glittering in the low light reflections of the restaurant. It wasn’t hard to miss how his chest would visibly rise and fall with bated breaths until he broke eye contact, shaking his head as though he was physically clearing away his intrusive thoughts.

You know you’d agreed upon this… arrangement with Josh, and though you hadn’t outwardly discussed the details since that night at your house, you knew that the time was drawing near as your pull to him began to come back full force. That same exact notion of wanting to be the holder of all his attention, to be the one that took up space in his mind whether he wanted it to or not, began to consume you once again. You didn’t know where it had come from, and you didn’t know how to make it go away. You were almost embarrassed of yourself to even think it, as strangely possessive as it was to want to be someone’s muse this wholeheartedly.

You caught yourself staring at the way his arm muscles stretched under the tight black fabric of his t-shirt, his hands quickly and expertly spinning roll upon roll of silverware.

“Ya know if you’re going to stare like that, you could at least make it a little less obvious, sweetheart,” he said under his breath as he smirked at you from across the bar.

You blinked away your dry eyes, focusing again on your own pile of flattened napkins in front of you as you cleared your throat. “I wasn’t staring,” you choked out.

“Oh really?” he perked up, sliding his eyes to your fellow coworkers at the other end of the bar finishing up their own side-work for the night. “Then what would you call someone else’s eyes taking in your every movement while you do nothing but mind your own business?” he stuck his tongue against his cheek as he slammed a roll into the basket.

“Shut up, Josh. I was just watching your um. Your technique…” you lied, taking note of your messy and loose rolls of forks and knives haphazardly piling up in your own basket.

“God, you do suck at rolling, don’t you? I never noticed,” he bites back a laugh as he shakes his head, and you suddenly feel extra embarrassed at your lack of one of the most basic skills of serving. “Here, let me show you how I do it.”

“No, I’m fine, I’ve got it. I just– they’re just ugly. But they’ll do the job,” you argue as he comes around to your side of the bar, wiping his hands off on the white towel hanging off the back of his belt.

“No no no, if bosslady sees this shit job, she might actually fire you on the spot. Actually surprised she hasn’t seen this, yet,” he says as he brings himself to stand behind your bar stool, his arms encasing your shoulders as he grabs your wrists, positioning your hands on either corner of the napkins.

“Josh, I swear to god, you’re making me feel like an idiot.” And he was, no doubt. Thinking he can come over here and school you in front of everyone, making you out to look like a fool at your own profession. But you had to admit, you needed a lesson. And you couldn’t ignore the feeling of the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his hands subtly running against the backs of your fingertips as he took them in his own, leaning down to show you how to tuck the utensils down into a pocket before forcing the sides in.

“See? Like this…” his breath was on the shell of your ear, warm and familiar as scenes from a week ago on your couch began to make their uprising again, your body stiffening at his simple touch. “Gotta use some force, little elbow grease to get them where you want. Then… tuck the edges, and roll…”

You huffed an aggravated breath as you accepted the fact that his hands had just helped you to roll the tightest, most perfect roll of silverware. “Show off,” you murmured.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help,” he laughed as he pulled away, his hands squeezing at your arms as he detached himself and stepped away. The loss of the feeling of him was more disorienting than you’d thought it would be; feeling him so close again had taken all the breath from your lungs, and you hadn’t even noticed that you didn’t even take a breath the entire time he was behind you.

“Will you two just get a room already?!” one of your coworkers, Jackson, suddenly yelped from the end of the bar, sending the rest of the group around him into a fit of point-and-laughs. “God, just do us all a favor and break the tension and get it over with, why don’t you?” You could feel your face turning a bright shade of red as you shied away, listening to the laughs and howls of your coworkers who had now become your friends. You had riled up enough gumption to retaliate with something, right before you realized Josh would undoubtedly be the one to take up for you, anyway.

“What makes you think we haven’t, Jack?” Josh asked as he rounded the bar back to his own station across from you. “Think you fuckin’ know it all?”

Jackson was walking toward you, laughing as he placed a heavy arm across the back of your shoulders. “Nah, I don’t know shit. Just thought I’d be the one to break the ice if the two of you haven’t yet, huh?” he bellowed as he forcefully shook your shoulders side to side. You knew he was joking and speaking all in good fun, but it still didn’t stop you from thinking about decking him in the face if he said another word. “Might be a nice little thing for you to try out, huh Josh? Little bit out of your normal practice…”

“That’s not any of your business, Jackson,” you said as you tried to shove his arm off our shoulders.

Your eyes glanced up to Josh from under your awkward stance, finding him clenching his jaw closed as he rolled his eyes. “Leave the girl alone, Jackson,” he warned.

“Or what? You gonna call your boyfriend to come and kick my ass?” Jackson spouted to Josh, making the group beside you cease all their laughter, while sending a shot of rage straight through your stomach. “I don’t think so, pretty boy.” The room fell silent as everyone gawked at Jackson in disbelief of his words. His arm suddenly felt ten pounds heavier on your shoulders, and you felt a burning fury rising up in your throat at his completely rude and unwarranted display.

Josh, though, kept his cool, returning all his attention to the task in his hands.

“No, but I will tell everyone at the end of that bar that you’ve been pocketing tips as you bus their tables,” he said under his breath, leaving Jackson unable to speak.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Jackson refuted, his arm still heavy across your shoulders, making you more and more uncomfortable by the second.

Josh’s eyes confidently skidded across the bar to everyone else before landing back on Jackson, his hands never ceasing rolling his silverware. “You heard me. I’m not stupid, Jack. Matter of fact, why don’t you tell them right now, all by yourself? Go ahead…” Josh raised his voice a little at the end of his sentence, pointing his chin to the group.

“Tell us what, what are you saying down there?” one of them asked, all of their interest suddenly piqued.

Jackson’s head snapped back to look Josh in the eyes, which he returned with an overly-confident expression that said try me. Jackson’s arm slowly slid off the back of your shoulders as he sulked away, mumbling some really nasty words under his breath that you chose to keep to yourself.

Maybe it wasn’t all in good fun.

A full-body chill ran through you as you finally felt his touch leave your body, an overwhelming feeling of disgust overtaking you as you finally made eyes with Josh again once Jackson was far away. “What in the fuck was that?! Is he fucking crazy?” you asked, the rage still heavily present.

Josh shook his head as he rolled his last utensils, sliding his basket to the side as he pulled your pile of napkins to sit in front of him. “Yeah, no, he’s a fucking asshole. He puts on this funny-guy persona, but underneath it, he’s fucking piece of work,” Josh explained. He was keeping his cool, but you could tell that his words hurt him a little.

“Josh, that is not okay, it’s not alright for him to speak to you like that, especially in the workpl–”

“Just drop it, Y/N, okay? I appreciate your concern, but I’m used to it. From all angles. It just rolls off, now,” Josh said with the smallest hint of sorrow in his voice. “He tries to show off what he thinks is male dominance but all he does is make himself look like a fool. Plus he forgets that I have wayyy more seniority than him.”

“Yeah well, that’s all true but you don’t deserve to be spoken to that way. I’m going to say something to him,” you began to stand up, feeling the sudden overwhelming need to stand up for Josh.

“Stop, Y/N, stop…” Josh grabbed your arm, pulling you back down to the stool. “I’ve already taken care of it.” His eyes were telling you to calm down, but his hand on your arm said things were everything but calm.

“What do you mean?” you asked, fighting him off while also trying to flip through your categories of comebacks you could throw down Jackson’s throat.

Josh gripped your arm even tighter as he forced you back down into your seat, leaning over the bar as he brought his face close to yours. His face was hot as it came into your proximity, his hand still gripping hard on the muscle of your arm. “I slipped an anonymous note onto bosslady’s desk telling her I saw him sliding cash tips. She’s probably back there watching the security footage as we speak…” he whispered lowly, his eyes bouncing from your lips and back.

You plopped back down into your seat as he released your arm, sending a quick look back down to the group as they now looked just as uncomfortable as you. Josh resumed his work, acting as though nothing had happened as the redness left his cheeks. “Did he take any of mine?” you asked, suddenly curious.

Josh nodded. “I’ve been suspecting him for weeks, but I just tonight watched him do it. Now you know why I don’t let anybody else bus my tables…” he whispered, shooting his eyebrows up.

“Wasn’t he up for the assistant manager position?” you asked.

“Yeah, he was. He’s been here for a long time. But hopefully she is back there taking this seriously, who knows how much money he’s actually stolen,” Josh went on, running his tongue over his lips. You crossed your arms across your chest, feeling exhausted from the adrenaline rush of wanting to slam that guy’s head against the bar for calling Josh such horrid names and making fun of him like that. You could tell you were still seething.

“Let his karma take it’s course, Y/N. Don’t get yourself too worked up over it, or I’ll be forced to help you relax,” he said with a buttery-soft grit to his voice, almost as if Jackson’s actions hadn’t bothered him in the least bit. You admired his way of staying calm in situations where the normal person would panic and act out… it undoubtedly was the reason he has been at Angelo’s the longest, and why he always has the largest section in the restaurant. He’s level-headed, and probably always has been.

But the insinuation in his words didn’t go unnoticed. Suddenly your adrenaline rush to protect was overtaken by another kind of rush, one that Josh had brought on to you more and more over the past few weeks. “And how would you do that?” you asked, purposefully lacing your voice with the same sweet venom he had just used. The unabashed flirting had finally come to a head, where neither of you could hold it back any longer.

He shrugged one shoulder up. “I dunno, I’d figure something out,” he said with a wink that you almost missed. “Maybe I could let you be the judge this time, hm?” he suggested, circling back to the nearly perfect ten he gave you on your performance just a short week ago. Your chest surged with nerves at his insinuation, the blush rushing to your cheeks as he confidently slid the now full basket of perfectly rolled silverware right in between you. You sat back in your seat as you tried to push down the swirling in your stomach.

“Maybe so. We going to the bar tonight?” you asked with more boldness in your voice than your actual body was feeling. Your entire body was actually already buzzing with anticipation to feel him near you again, and you were eager to get a move on with the night ahead.

Josh shook his wrist as he glanced down at his watch. He rolled his lips into his mouth as his deep brown eyes shot back to yours. “You off tomorrow?”

“I am,” you responded.

He licked his teeth, taking in a sharp breath. “Me too.”

Just then the swinging double doors to the kitchen swung open with force, and your manager, Heather, burst through them with madness dripping from her aura. “Jackson, can I see you in my office, please? Now.”

Oh fuck.

Jackson shoved the broom that was in his hands into the corner, shooting daggers at Josh as he made his way toward her, the group again falling silent as they disappeared into the back.

“Shit, karma hitting a little sooner than we thought, huh?” you said, holding back a vengeful laugh.

Josh chuckled as he untied the ties of his waist apron, pulling the straps from around him as he huffed a breath. “Guess so. Let’s get the fuck out of here?”

—----

You followed closely behind him and the rest of the group as everyone made their way down the street to the bar, watching as he lightly conversed with a few of your coworkers as they questioned him about what the hell just happened back there, and what Jackson could have been talking about. You couldn't really hear the conversation, but you knew that he was likely handling it with ease, just as he handles every other situation he’s faced with with ease and grace.

You’d watched him talk to many-an unsatisfied customer as they yelled in his face about an incorrect order or a mishap, diffusing situations with the charm he had naturally built into him. You knew he probably kicked the most tips out of anyone that worked at Angelo’s, and for good reason. He was a pro.

You watched as Josh’s left hand slipped behind his back as he spoke to them, wiggling his fingers as he searched for your hand to hold his. You followed through, gripping the ends of his fingertips with your own, just to let him know you were there. He squeezed them tightly as he continued to talk, and the sweet gesture let you know that you were on his mind even though he hadn’t been able to speak a word to you since you clocked out.

You and Josh took your normal seats at the bar while everyone else retreated back to their designated booth, the night settling in even though it had only just begun. That inherent craving you had for Josh was always amplified with alcohol, and you knew that it would only be a few strong drinks before you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from letting your mind wander with the same thoughts that were probably already surging through his.

Roy approached you at the bar, laying out two white bar napkins in front of you. “Evenin’ guys. It’s been a while, where ya been?” You and Josh both exchanged a confused glance, realizing that it had indeed been a while since you’d been here.

“Uhh, just been a few long nights at Angelo’s, most of the time we’re all too tired to function after we leave, you know how it can be,” Josh said as he removed his old flannel and draped it across the back of his bar stool.

“Understandable,” Roy nodded. “Ok so, Josh, last time you were drinking the hard stuff. Want a beer tonight?”

Josh snickered. “Yeah, please. Whatever lager you have on draft is fine.”

“Be right up,” Roy offered as he knocked his knuckles on the bar.

You leaned in to Josh, catching a whiff of the cologne he must have thrown on as you both stuffed your aprons in your lockers. “Has it really been a whole week since we were here?”

He nodded slowly as he knitted his fingers together and leaned on the bar. “Yeah, I guess so… since the night I uh, stayed over.”

“Huh,” you mumbled as Roy set your drinks in front of you. “Why did we go so long without coming back?” A week was actually a good chunk of time to be gone from this place.

Josh hissed through his teeth as he plucked a toothpick from the tiny blue glass container on the bar, sticking it between his lips as he gazed at the TV above you. “Guess we just um… knew where the night might go if we did this again so soon. Wanted to wait it out, give it a few days.”

His admission made you feel all kinds of emotions at once– excitement, confusion, regret… Give it a few days? What does that even mean? The both of you downed your first round as if your lives depended on the alcohol within the glasses, both of you sure of the fact that you will need liquid courage for whatever escapades the rest of the night will hold. Or won’t hold…

You signaled to Roy for another round as Josh avoided your gaze, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy at what he’d said.

You slipped your hair behind your ear, feeling conflicted. “You don’t… You know we don’t have to do that again, Josh, I know we agreed to it, but–”

“No, Y/N, I want to,” he stopped you mid-sentence, bolting his head to the side to look into your eyes. “Believe me, I want to keep to that agreement.”

You sat back a little. “Okay, then… why did you want to wait it out? Are you sure you want the arrangement to be with me?”

His eyes ripped across you again before looking back at the TV, the toothpick still rolling between his thumb and fingers as he gnawed on the end of it. “Of course I want it to be with you… didn’t you want to drag it out a little? More fun when you can make it last, right?”

Again, his words stole all the breath from your lungs, almost making you choke on your refilled fizzy drink. “Um, yeah… I guess, I guess you’re right…” you choke out, unable to hide the fluster that had already overtaken you simply from him saying the words ‘make it last’.

Suddenly he’s laughing at you, gripping your opposite leg in his hand as he turns your body in the stool to face him. Your knees land between his legs as he holds you there, setting his toothpick down on his napkin as he takes a long drink of his new beer. He sets it back down as his eyes land on yours, his hand still gripping the thickness of your thigh.

“What’s with you, baby?” he asks quietly, leaning in as he cocks his head sideways. “Last time we were here you were knocking me over with your wit and confidence. Now it’s like you’re a baby bird who hasn’t found its wings yet… what’s got you all wound up?”

You, Josh. You’ve got me wound up tighter than a banjo string.

Your knees are jutted up into his groin and his face is only inches from yours, the smell of the hoppy beer on his breath mixing with the cigarette smoke from your coworkers on the walk over. He’s right… he’s managed to reduce you into a shell of a woman in the matter of a week, and you have to remember that you are only just friends.

You clear your throat as he forces you to find your true self again. “I dunno, I wouldn’t account it to you teasing me all fucking week, though.”

“Teasing you?!” he all but shouts, causing you to slap a hand across his mouth to silence him. He playfully bites at your hand to make you pull it away. “Is that what you think I was doing?”

“I’m no stranger to passing glances and subtle touches, Joshua. You may not have been teasing me, but you sure as hell acted like you missed the feeling of your hands on me,” you said with a little bit of sass in your tone. “Brushing your hand against me every chance you got, lingering stares… you aren’t slick.”

Josh could hardly help the grin that was growing on his face, his expression now plastered with a look so playfully sinister that you wondered how it was only a week ago that you were tempting him to come over to your house simply by offering to share a blunt.

He pushed his tongue up into the corner of his mouth, amused at your boldness. “There you are. And the funny thing is, I wasn’t trying to be slick, Y/N. I was doing that with all intents and purposes of flirting with you. Outright.”

You lean your body in closer to his, challenging him as you sipped from your skinny straw. “And friends can do that? They can flirt with each other openly?”

“You had your mouth on my cock seven days ago, sugar. I think that constitutes my right to flirt with you,” he replies with an emblazoned growl in his voice, making you feel like you’re melting into putty.

“Did you think it would make me want to invite you over again?”

“I fucking hoped it would, just wanted to put a little time between visits, ya know. Make you miss me,” he says, gripping his hand onto your thigh a little harder now.

“Make me miss you?! Don’t flatter yourself, Josh. I see enough of you at work,” you say with a wave of your hand. His hand sneaks higher on your thigh, and you find yourself thanking yourself for choosing to wear your slitted slinky black skirt to work today. The slit is exposing most of your thigh, of which Josh has wasted no time in reveling in. His hand is warm on your skin as the alcohol suddenly hits your system, immediately swirling your brainwaves with nothing more than thoughts of his hands traveling all over you, gripping at wherever he could get. All his attention locked in on you. The memories of your face between his legs again.

You smile at him as he leans in, shaking his head at you once again. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about last weekend every single waking moment since it happened, Y/N…” he growled into your ear. Your entire body shuddered at the feeling of his breath traveling over one of your most sensitive spots, making a slew of chill bumps arise on your skin against your own will.

The music in the joint suddenly got ten times louder as he pulled away, that damned sly smile still plastered across his face. You took a second to really look at him, the way his lips curved, the curls that balanced and framed his face, the way his eyes twinkled no matter how much darkness filled the room. He’d become a man you respected. Not only personally, but professionally, as well, and the respect was slowly but surely morphing into an emotion with a lot more weight to it. You were beginning to truly admire him.

“I have,” you whispered, covering his hand on your thigh with your own, forcing him to squeeze you even harder. Your heart rate had picked up so much speed, you were sure that he could hear it pounding over the sound of the music, but you didn’t care. His fingertips were burning into your skin, surely leaving behind marks that would be singed into your skin for weeks from the mere heat of them. Your actions were becoming blurs, desire overtaking your entire being as you craved the man sitting in front of you. A craving that would indeed be your downfall if you didn’t keep your head on straight.

Suddenly, Josh’s phone was buzzing on the bartop, two or three text messages coming through at the same time and catching his attention. The both of you looked at the screen as he picked it up, announcing it was messages from Heather.

His eyes scanned across the messages as you waited for him to finish reading, his face falling into one of such disappointment that it shocked you.

“What’s wrong, is she okay?”

He nodded as he locked his phone and put it face down back on the bar. “Yeah, she’s fine. She fired Jack.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Seriously?! Good! That asshole got what was coming for him! What else did she say?”

Josh shook his head as he sipped his beer again, “Ah, nothing.”

“Not nothing,” you said, lifting his phone from the bar to unlock it and read for yourself. “I know that look you just had.”

“Stop, Y/N, I swear,” Josh said as he tried to wrestle the phone from you. “Don’t–”

“How bad can it be?” you pressed, managing to pull the phone from his grasp and unlock the screen as you began to read aloud.

“Hey Josh, sorry to bother you this late. I’m sure you noticed when I pulled Jackson from sidework tonight that I wasn’t in the best mood,” you read. “It came to my attention that he had been sneaking cash tips for some time now, and I was able to catch him on video this evening doing just that. I’m sending this message to all of you to apologize on Angelo’s behalf and to let you all know that Jackson and I had a conversation about it and he will no longer be working with us. I apologize for not learning of this sooner, and for the fact that I cannot repay or reimburse any of the money that was taken from you or any of the other employees. I told Jackson that if he had any heart that he should find a way to make this right with each and every one of you, so I am in hopes that he does,” you went on reading quickly, taking a breath before continuing.

“On that note, I’m sure you know that Jackson was next in line to be promoted to assistant manager. Since that is no longer the case, I want to offer the position to you, seeing as how you have been here the longest and always show nothing but the best work you can. You’re my most trusted employee, and know this business inside and out. I know this has been offered to you many times in the past, but I thought I would extend it again. Think about it, and let me know your decision at your Sunday shift. Thanks again, Heather.” Your eyes nearly burst from your head as you realize that Josh was just offered the job that Jackson would no longer be taking.

“Josh! Babe! Why do you look so sad?! You just got offered a promotion!” you wailed, waving his phone around in the air.

He stretched his jaw as he ripped the phone from your hand and shoved it in his pocket. “Because, Y/N, I don’t want to be a manager. I want to serve my own tables, make my money, and go home.”

“But Josh, you’re so incredibly good at your job! Heather is right, you always give 100%, I swear sometimes I think that you could run that place better than our management could…” you relayed honestly.

He shook his head. “Nah, they’ve offered it to me time and time again, and I always give them the same response. I’m happy where I am, Y/N. I swear.”

“But I bet you you’d make more money, and you wouldn’t have to work as many shifts, and you wouldn’t have to be on your feet as much and you’d have the opportunity to engage more with customers and actually have time to talk with the regulars–”

“I told you, I don’t want that. I’m content,” he argued, seemingly wanting to end the conversation. “Can we just drop it?”

The disappointment you felt put a hole through your chest. If anyone deserved this promotion, it’s him. And he knows it. “Will you just think about it?” you asked, placing both hands on his shoulders as you gazed into his eyes and pouted out your lower lip. “For me?”

You felt his entire body relax, his shoulders slump and the corner of his mouth tilt into a tiny smile. His eyes locked in on yours once more, making your stomach begin to turn over on itself again. “For you?”

“Yeah, for me,” you nodded. “You deserve to give something like this some thought, Josh.”

He laughed through his nose. “Fuck, alright, alright. I guess. I don’t like how you just did that, though…”

“What?” you played innocent. “Are you mad that I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger?” You hold your pinky up in his face as you sip down the rest of your drink, really feeling its effects, now. He pulled your hand into his, forcing your whole body into his chest.

“No, that I’m beginning to have a harder and harder time telling you no,” he said.

You laughed as he poked a finger into your side. You were absolutely reeling at the fact that all of his attention was yours again, finally. It gave you a high you could hardly contain. You set your drink down and leaned into him, both of your hands rested high on his thighs as your knees still dug into his groin. “Oh, is that right? Then how about we have one more drink. Then we go back to your house… so you can let me be the judge of–”

Josh cut you off with his lips crashing into yours, hot and heavy enough to stop your breathing altogether again. After a second, you inhaled him, the feeling of his tongue running along your bottom lip sending a surge of excitement straight to your core. You kissed him back, but only for a short-lived second as the fuzziness in your brain reminded you that you’re in a very public place. You let your tongue brush against his quickly, tasting the sweetness of him for the shortest second before ripping yourself away.

You’re both breathless as you catch each other’s eyes again, red-faced and tensioned as you fight to put your lips on him again.

“One more drink?” he asked.

“One more drink.”

—--

Thankful that Josh’s house was only a few blocks down the road, you pulled into his driveway behind him, throwing your car in park as you yanked down your sunshield mirror and assessed the looks of yourself. “Not too shabby,” you whispered as you wiped the fallen mascara from under your eyes and ran some fresh chapstick across your lips. You flipped the visor closed just as Josh was opening your car door for you.

“Welcome to my humble abode, my lady,” he announced with an accent, holding his hand out for you to grab to step out of the car. You pulled the keys from the ignition and grabbed your purse before taking his hand, strong and sturdy as it pulled you from your seat. As your eyes adjusted in the darkness, you saw that Josh’s house was small, but quaint, a tiny front porch lined with white Christmas lights and covered with hanging plants. He had neighbors, but they weren’t too close at all, and a rather high wooden fence line surrounded the whole property.

You followed him up to the front where he pulled open the swinging screen door onto the porch, revealing a bunch of old mismatched furniture covered in colorful patio cushions that looked surprisingly comfortable. There was a small radio playing a staticy old country station, and an old blue cooler making a rusty buzzing noise. You watched as he sauntered over to it, lifting up the heavy silver lid. “Want a beer or a seltzer or something?”

“Um, sure. Seltzer, please,” you responded, still taking in the overly-adorable front porch and taking notes as to how you could make yours look the same. He tossed you the can and you cracked it open, watching as he kicked his shoes off onto a rug by the front door. You followed suit and removed your own, not wanting to be rude as he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The air conditioning hit you in the face in the same way that hotel room A/C does when you’re on vacation, cold and bitter but welcoming all the same. It’s an older home, but you’d never be able to tell it with the way he had it decorated. Salt lamps and old art covered the white plaster walls, white tile underneath all his oriental rugs. A giant couch sat in the middle of the room that connects to the kitchen, filled with cookbooks and open shelves on the walls that were littered with colorful plates and cups.

“Do you have any roommates?” you asked, wanting to fill the awkward silence that had come out of nowhere.

“No,” he sang as he walked you into the living room. “My brother and I bought this place a few years ago, he lived with me for a year then he got a girlfriend and left me here all by myself, so.”

“Aw, Josh… I’m sorry,” you giggled.

He laughed too as he flipped on a lamp. “It’s okay. It was kinda the plan in the first place.”

You take note of the multitude of blankets strewn across the couch and the cabinet full of vinyl near the sliding glass door… the framed photographs of people and places alike that line the walls, and the lack of any television in his living room.

“No TV?” you asked.

“Nah, I’d never watch it anyway. Rather read or listen to music,” he said, his voice almost sounding a little nervous. “You wanna see the rest?”

You nod as you swallow a drink of your seltzer, following him down a short hallway. “Down there is the bathroom and spare bedroom… in here is just a room that catches all my junk… laundry room…” you smiled to yourself as you began to notice that he probably hasn’t had any visitors in a long while, and the last person that came was probably his now ex.

“What’s upstairs?” you asked as you followed behind him, walking through a wooden bead curtain.

“My room. The best room in the house,” he said.

“Oh? And what makes it that?”

He takes your hand in his, warm and soft as he pursed his lips together. “Come on, let’s get out of our work clothes.” It suddenly strikes you that you both still reek of pizza, are probably covered in sauce and spilled beer, sweaty and gross from your fairly busy Friday shift.

“Shit, Josh, I didn’t bring anything to change in to, I didn’t know I’d be–”

“Shh, baby. Friends share clothes, right?” he asked as you both ascend the old squeaky stairs, turning the corner at the top to the A-frame finished attic section of the home. You followed him in the darkness through more hanging plants and across plush rugs before you smelled a sweet earthy smell overtake your senses. Your hand was still in his, leading the way as he opened his door to his bedroom.

The walls were a deep plum color, lined with gold accents and more photographs and art, dim low-light lamps and a giant beanbag in the corner. It smelled heavily of incense, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on just what scent it was.

“Wow…” you whispered out, laughing a little as you did so.

“What?” he asks.

You walk further into the room, taking a seat on his full-sized mattress that’s covered in a plush olive velvet comforter and tons of giant pillows.

“Nothing, I… this is just not what I thought your house would be like,” you say, still in wonder that you kept seeing new, precious things every single place you look.

Josh joined you on the bed, bouncing it a little as he sipped from his own can. “Yeah, I like to think my room is like my escape from the real world, ya know? Come here to unwind, mostly. Oh, I forgot…” he got up and began searching through the drawers of his armoire, pulling out an old t-shirt and pair of shorts for you. “I’ll turn around.”

You laughed as you set your can on his nightstand, quickly getting undressed and changing into the clothing he gave you, while he stripped and did the same. “No peeking,” you said as he pretended to turn around, both of you knowing that you most likely would be seeing more of each other as the night went on. You took a second to breathe in the scent of his laundry, clean and floral as you pulled the holey white t-shirt over your head.

After you’d both changed, Josh took the opportunity and closed in on you again, gently taking your waist in his hands. “Like seeing you in my clothes… you look good…” he mumbled as he let his nose drift down your jawline.

You felt that same familiar chill run down your spine, already imagining him taking off the shirt that you had just put on. His hands gripped into your love handles, pulling you closer as his mouth drifted from your jaw to your neck, lightly sucking on the soft skin and pulling it between his lips.

“This okay?” he mumbled as your hands finally drifted up underneath his shirt, your nails lightly scratching at the skin.

“Mmhmm… very much…” you breathed, rounding your hands behind him to scratch along his back.

He made his way to meet your lips again, catching you off guard in the kiss that got cut short at the bar. His hands were fierce and his lips were fiery, his fingertips pulling at your skin as you kissed him back, letting your tongue push through his lips to show him how much you want him, too. The both of you worked to keep things cautious, knowing that you were pushing the borders of becoming too intimate for an agreement that is based solely on friendship and pleasure.

You broke away, mirroring his earlier actions as you tiptoed just a little to take his earlobe into your mouth, biting at the skin just below it as you blew whispers into his ear. Your hands were wrapped around his neck and you could feel his chest heaving, his hips pressing themselves into you as you finally felt his length pressing up against your core.

You let out a tiny pitiful moan, one that probably wouldn’t have been heard if the room wasn’t so quiet. He took you up in a tight embrace and held you there, your face caught in the nape of his neck as you both took a second to calm down, and breathe each other in.

“You feel really fucking good, Y/N…” he said with a vulnerable tone.

“So do you, Josh,” you agreed, your voice muffled by his shoulder.

“No, like, you just… I don’t know how to explain it. You just… fit right here,” he squeezed you harder in his arms, letting you know that this is exactly where he liked you most. You squeezed him back to let him know that you were in complete agreement, but also felt the need to separate again, not wanting to let things drift too far into waters that you hadn’t even talked about exploring.

So you pulled away, leaving your hands balanced on his stomach as you gave him a genuine smile.

“You wanna see the best part of the house?” he asked, smirking as he ran a recentering hand through his hair.

“Are we not in it right now?” you motioned up to the vaulted ceilings and hanging lights above you, twinkling away and casting warm shadows all over the room.

“Not really,” he said, turning and walking over to a set of tall doors, pulling on the gold handles to open them. You walked up behind him, seeing that the door led directly onto a flat, concave area on the roof. He flicked on a switch, letting another set of string lights illuminate the small space, showing a slew of more cushions and comfortable furniture nearly filling the floor of the whole thing. A tall spider plant took up most of the corner while the floor was littered with plush outdoor rugs, much the same vibe as was throughout the rest of the house.

“Holy shit, Josh… this is, this is gorgeous,” you said, walking outside and up to the edge of the roof, able to peek down into his fenced-in backyard. A giant Oak tree extended its branches all the way above the roof, providing the perfect makeshift covering for the outdoor spot. The crescent moon was hung low in the sky, providing just enough light to make the scene all the more romantic.

“This is the best part of the house…” he said, boasting a little as he removed the glass topper of a citronella candle, pulling a lighter out of nowhere and lighting the wick before replacing the tall glass cover.

“I think I might agree with that,” you say, taking a seat on one of the oversized cushions. “Come back over here,” you beckoned him, suddenly needing to feel his hands on you again. He did just that, placing himself next to you as he took you up in his arms again, peppering your face with pecks. You could tell something was just a little bit off, as it felt as though he was holding himself back.

“You alright, baby?” you asked, hoping that you calling him the pet name wasn’t overstepping too much.

He nodded into your neck. “I’m good. Just trying to find my mojo again,” he laughed.

“Believe me baby, you still have it,” you said with utmost certainty.

He pulled away a little, meeting your line of vision. “Really?”

You nodded, “Ohhh yeah. You do, no doubt about it.”

He laughed again as he trailed a finger along the inside of your thigh. “Well thank you. It’s just been, ya know.” He huffed a heavy breath. “It’s been kinda rough. And finding you, and befriending you, it was a really welcome treat,” he said, adding a few more fingers as he drifted them along your leg. You felt another set of chills overtake your body, wanting more from him.

“I’ll happily be your distraction, Josh,” you said, hinting toward being the person he used to fully get over his ex. “That’s not something I’m above.”

The thought of being that person to him was extremely intriguing, even though it sounded a bit different upon hearing yourself say it out loud.

“No, no, you’re not a distraction. You’re far from it. You’re… really you’re more of…” he struggled to find the words as his fingers drifted higher and higher to where you really wanted them to be. “You’re like a beautiful addition that I didn’t expect. And that might sound stupid, but… I really do appreciate your friendship, Y/N,” he admitted, biting his lower lip in.

It didn’t take much for your hand to find him again, tracing your finger along the column of his neck as you both reclined on the cushions.

“Not stupid, Josh. You’re the same for me. Finding you has been… an adventure, to say the least,” you smiled as you felt his curls fall onto your face, his head lying on your shoulder. And you were absolutely not lying; the day that Josh came into your life changed it for the better, giving you a whole new journey to embark on that you’d never once touched in your life, a new person to feel completely whole and trusting with, building a companionship from the ground up all while intertwining the needs you both had for the benefit of not only yourselves, but for each other. It’s been an experience of selflessness that you never even knew you needed, and if you had to guess, he didn’t know he needed it, either.

You enjoyed the presence of each other for a few more silent minutes, letting yourselves explore the potential of all that each of you held, but having enough self-control to not act on it, yet.

“So, our deal…” he finally spoke up just as you heard the late summer frogs begin to chirp from the yard below.

“Yes…” you urged him, letting your fingers pull at the hem of his shorts.

“I want you to be the judge tonight… if you want to,” he said with his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want anyone else to hear it.

For whatever reason, his insinuation from earlier didn’t click with you at the bar. You hadn’t put two and two together that he wanted to return the same favor that you’d given him a week ago.

“Oh,” you muttered as you felt his hand creep higher.

“Again, only if you’re comfortable with that…” he said. You mulled it over for exactly one second before you began nodding quickly.

“I’m comfortable, but only if you are, too,” you said, wanting to give him the space to back out and not feel pressured.

“I used to be somewhat of a legend when it came to this,” he said with a stretch of his arms, pushing you further back into the cushions. “But that was many moons ago. If you’ll let me, I’d like to see if I still have what it takes… let you give me a true rating, just like I gave you..” he went on.

You bit your lips in, suddenly feeling a little shy, but also completely empowered at the comfortability of it all. “I think I can do that.”

There was a light breeze in the air, stirring up the smell of the citronella and whatever candle or incense he had burning in his room, making for what you felt was about to be a very immersive experience.

He took a deep breath, rolling to his knees as he knelt between yours. He hooked both of his fingers in your shorts and underwear, giving you another look of reassurance as you nodded his way. He swallowed hard as he began pulling them down until they were all the way off, and he tossed them to the side as his eyes finally landed on your completely uncovered lower half. You felt shy, but not in an embarrassing way; the way his eyes took you in made you feel as though you were the most beautiful wonder he had ever laid his eyes upon, soft and sweet and all for him, tonight.

“You’re gorgeous, Y/N,” he whispered lowly again, the flicker of the candle flame lighting up his doe eyes. He pulled your ankles up to his ears, turning his head to kiss the insides of your legs as they balanced on his shoulders. He worked his way down, switching from one to the other as he laid light kisses and pecks all the way down to your knees, sending you little looks of admiration every few seconds. After a few minutes familiarizing himself, he bent down, bringing himself closer to your core as he got comfortable laid out on his stomach.

“I’m gonna go slow,” he whispered as he placed his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to him. You imagined that he was talking himself through it, so you went along with whatever he wanted to give you. You were fully exposed to him now, and though the feeling was a little uneasy, it didn’t feel wrong, in the least.

“You do whatever you want, baby,” you reassured him, running your hand through his locks. “I can’t believe we’re about to do this on your roof…” you laughed, covering your face as you tried to lighten the mood just a little. You heard his high-pitched giggle fill the air, the one he only let slip out when he thought something was really amusing.

“I know, I’m sorry…” he admitted, still laying wet kisses to the insides of your thighs.

“Don’t be sorry, I’ve just never done this outdoors before,” you cooed, scratching your nails into his scalp as your body was already heaving a bit, in search of the connection it was so craving. You felt your hips buck up a little on their own as they sought him out.

“You’re fucking dripping, baby,” he said as his tongue ran one languid strip along your slit, not yet making its way inside yet. His words sent your mind into a carnal, visceral reaction, and suddenly you pushed all the comfort talk to the wayside as you imagined him fully, admiring the wetness that he created. “You really want me this much?”

“Yes, Josh… been craving you, please…” you pleaded, suddenly no longer able to hold on to anything besides what was in front of you.

“Craving me? That’s a powerful word, lover,” he went on, teasing his tongue around your lips.

“Haven’t you?” you rebutted. “You told me at the bar I’ve been the only thing on your mind since last weekend…”

You heard him hum a sweet laugh. “Patience, sweet thing, I’m getting there.”

His mouth finally connected to you, the thickness of his lips pulling you into him, his hands gripping hard on your asscheeks. Finally his tongue was exploring you, switching between long strokes and pointed pokes into your opening, flitting his tongue as deeply as he could inside you. “Oh, fuck, Josh…” you called out, your hands digging harder at his curls.

He continued on, finally paying special attention to your clit as he brought his hand up to join his mouth, placing one finger on either side of it and alternating them as if he was pushing buttons. The indirect pressure was sending your mind into a frenzy already, even without the direct contact. He continued there for a few seconds before he licked his tongue up along you again, pressing it directly between his fingers and onto the sensitive bud. You felt the long-awaited and new overwhelming sensation, sending your head back into the pillows as he hummed onto you, vibrating his lips against it and sending an immediate convulsion through your body.

“Oh my god?” you perked up, finally looking him directly in the eyes, your knees bending up to squeeze his head. “What in the hell was that?! Fuckkkk….” you cried out, watching as he smiled on you. Cheeky fucker.

It was like he was starving for you, pulling you into him with heavy suction before extending his tongue back into you again, working your clit with his thumb as the top half of his hand added pressure down onto your abdomen. He was right, he knew exactly what he was doing. He just had to get familiar with it again.

He pulled away, out of breath and heaving as you felt the devastating disconnection. “Switch me, babe… want you on top of me,” he barked, motioning with his hands for you to hurry. He helped you sit up to kneel as he took your spot on the cushions, pulling at your thighs for you to come and straddle his face.

“Are you sure, Josh? This is–” you were breathless as you asked, already so close to orgasm and he hadn’t even shown off for you yet.

“M’ sure baby, come on,” he commanded, slapping your legs as he repositioned. Before you knew it his mouth was on you again, pulling you down with force as you cried out in pleasure again, completely uncaring if the neighbors could hear your moans from their back porches. Your hands were balanced on the wall to hold yourself up, his tongue still doing whatever it wanted between your folds. The sensation was overwhelming, all-encompassing as you were sure you’d never felt anyone take care of you like this before.

You could feel your wetness on his beard and mustache, the grittiness of his coarse hairs a bit grating, but you welcomed the bit of discomfort. You felt his hand come up, toying with your entrance as he paid special attention to your clit again, pulling it forcefully in and out of his mouth.

“Can I?” he asked, wondering if it was okay to go that far as his fingers did everything but enter you all the way.

“Yes, fuck, please,” you begged, the immense need to feel him inside you overtaking your decision-making skills. The next thing you knew, his two middle fingers were buried deep inside you, curling and twisting in a way that let you know that he had the fingers crossed, one right over the other. He pumped them in and out of you a few times, taking the breath completely from you as everything became almost too much to handle. You laid your forehead against the wall along with your hands, ignoring your own want to swirl your hips.

“Come on baby, you can…” he growled from beneath you as he tapped your hips again, his free hand still gripped hard on your ass. He’d read your mind, so you did, swirling your hips in a figure-8 while his fingers and tongue continued their work.

“Mmmhmm…” he hummed onto you as your pitiful cries filled the air again, your body weight fighting to keep itself upright. Your mind was blacking out as you felt the pleasure overtaking you in waves, the constant realization that you were outside, on Josh’s roof, letting him devour you making you all the more dizzy. Just envisioning the visual of the scene made you want to cum right then and there.

Suddenly he pushed you away from him, sliding his body down and out from under you, standing up on his knees again. He turned and pulled you backward by the waist as he bent you in half, pressing your head back down onto the cushion as he pulled your legs apart a little. You felt him maneuver himself again, leaning his head down as he gripped your ass in his hands again, connecting his mouth with you from behind.

“Fuck!!!” you yelped at the sudden change in position, and for how downright confident he was being. Intimacy was suddenly out the window. You arched your back for him, giving him greater access to your most sensitive places. His hands worked to separate your folds as his tongue delved deep again, sending you so close to the edge that you almost lost it.

Right then you knew that you needed more, you needed it all. Burying your face in the pillows for him was the only thing you wanted to do, from here on out. In whatever position he wanted… frontward, backward, upside down… You needed it. You needed to feel all of him. But you knew in the back of your mind that going all the way might not be in the cards.

At least not tonight.

Your cries were building up again as you swayed your hips for him, eliciting a heinous growl from somewhere deep in his chest. Every nerve ending in your body was lit up with electricity as you began to see stars, his constant attention directly where you needed it making all of your strings come untied. “Josh, fuck… I’m– close…” you cried out in a slew of breathless words.

He pulled away again, gripping under your belly and flipping you back onto your back. “Errrghhh,” you complained as he edged you again, and you could feel your jaw clenched together with rage.

“Don’t yell at me, baby,” he said. “Am I not giving you what you want?” His eyes were deep and hollow as the light flickered off of them again, making him seem more devious than he had ever looked before. He laid back down in front of you, pulling your knees to rest on his shoulders again. His fingers pressed into you again, and continued flicking deep inside of you, twisting up and curling as he pondered you.

You gripped your hand around the back of his neck, pulling yourself up to kiss him, uncaring of your own wetness now transferred onto you. He moaned into your mouth as your tongue searched for his, his hand never letting up as your body began to tremble again. You could feel the sheen of sweat forming on your head and cheeks as he unraveled you, his fingers so perfectly deep and his thumb still expertly working your clit, you were positive that there was nothing else existing in the world right now, besides him. You pulled away, meeting his eyes with a question that he had no idea you would even ask.

You didn’t even have to speak a word, he knew exactly what you were asking of him.

He broke eye contact, looking down at the cushions as he continued with his hand. “I want to baby, believe me… I fucking want to… I want you, too…” he captured your lips in a sweet and longing kiss again, letting you know he was right there with you. “Just…give me this… let me have you like this… and…”

You nodded, feeling the knot coming undone in your belly, anyway, unable to stop it even if you tried.

“Promise me, Josh… you will, we will… want you, want all of you…”

He nodded hard as he pressed his forehead to your cheek, your body almost completely bent in half as the backs of your knees rested on his shoulders. “I promise sweetheart… one day…”

With his promise and one particularly specific pump of his finger and thumb combination, you were falling over the edge, your whole body shaking and tremoring as you came undone for him, the sounds coming from your body almost embarrassing as you finally were able to hear your own wetness against the slap of his hand.

When you finally came down, his tongue was on you again, cleaning up the mess you’d both made and swallowing it down. “God, you’re fucking delicious, Y/N, I swear…” he praised as he ran his tongue along you again, sending your body into a fit of shaking overstimulation.

He pulled his t-shirt up over his mouth, wiping away any excess as he flattened your body back out, crawling up you to lay one last kiss to your now-soaked lips.

You took a long, deep breath, cleansing yourself of being devoid of proper oxygen intake for the past few minutes. He finally joined you on the pillows, throwing an arm behind his head as he looked at you with a smug grin. “Told you I was a legend,” he said, adding a giant cheesy smile along with his boasting.

“Okay, listen,” you said, slapping your hand onto his chest. “You can’t call yourself a legend, then ask for me to rate you. It doesn’t work like that,” you argued. “Unfair.”

“Okay, alright, whatever. Then what do you give me?” he asked, turning toward you and pulling your weak leg up over him.

You pressed your finger to your chin just as he had done when he was “evaluating” you. “Nine and a half.”

“What?! Now, that’s unfair, you can’t give me the same rating I gave you,” he complained. “Be serious, I’m a perfect ten.”

You swallowed hard, not wanting to tell him the real reason that you didn’t give him a ten was because the only way you know he could reach that level of perfection was if you could have him wholly and completely, though both experiences with him so far had been beyond stellar on all fronts, deep down, your thirst for him wouldn’t be satiated until that day. That, and the fact that you simply couldn’t let him beat you.

“Sorry, that’s my rating,” you shrugged him off, reaching down for your underwear and shorts.

“Well fuck me,” he complained, rolling to his back.

“I tried to,” you said in retaliation with a laugh, causing him to shoot his look your way.

He met you with a look that you hadn’t seen from him yet, one that told you that there was something you were missing, something that he refused to divulge, but you were honestly too scared to ask. He bit his cheeks in and broke away from your stare, taking a choppy breath again. “I know we promised, babe, but… we’ve gotta remember that we’re just friends, yeah? Just friends–”

“Friends with benefits. Right,” you answered for him in a clipped tone, unsure how to take it. You wished that you could put it all out in the open and discuss things how they lied, but what Josh didn’t know was that you shared his same feeling of uncertainty, both of you so swept up in the idea of one another that you were too scared to fall. Too scared to take a leap that the other one might not want to share.

Your feelings for Josh were growing. Sprouting new buds and new blossoms every single day, weaving themselves deeper into your bones than you had ever anticipated. But you could never tell him the absolute truth, it could ruin everything. It could turn your relationship up on its tail, causing the both of you to see the other in a light that neither of you even planned on shining in the first place.

That’s the devastation of it all, the realization of the possibility you might be physically compatible while sharing little to no other characteristics with someone who could end up being more than just a friend.

But the passion was there, you could feel it. It was almost tangible just now as he begged you to fly into oblivion for him, all at the touch of his hand. You couldn’t lose Josh, and he couldn’t lose you. Not right now, at least. The two of you had become dependent on one another, in all ways besides romantically.

If you took that step… if you both let your guard down all the way… would things still be the same? Did he even want you in that capacity? You were too scared to ask, you were too scared to know.

So, you cleaned yourself up, replaced your panties and shorts and followed Josh back into his lavish bedroom, letting him pull you up underneath his protective arm under his sheets and blankets, kissing you on the forehead as the two of you drifted off into a sleep that begged for more. The both of you lying to yourselves right where you were, waiting for the feelings to dissipate.

Or worse, manifest themselves in a way that was much more gruesome than something a friend with a benefit could ever, ever give.

xoxoxo jules

116 notes · View notes

gretavangroupie · 2 months

Text

Saudade

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 16.6k

Warnings: Cursing, Drinking, Heartbreak, Angst, Sexual Themes, Mentions of Disbandment, Mentions of Estrangement. Smut: Dirty Talk, Touching, Kissing, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Oral M!Receiving, Edging, Protected and Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I know this is not your typical story, being set twenty-five years in the future, but I hope you will stick with it until the end. Though this was only planned to be one part, I could definitely see this having a part two in the future. As always, thank you so much for reading, liking, reblogging, etc. It means more to me than you know!

OCTOBER 2049

NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE

It was almost the same. Twenty five years later and not much had changed. Maybe the owners, the patrons, the furniture and the drink specials, but wholly and truly it was almost exactly the same as it was back then. It’s dark, and poorly lit by a string of multicolored Christmas lights around the perimeter. Dusty college pennants line the walls, and the sound of billiards balls smacking together still ring through the air.

The clientele has changed a bit since the last time you were here. Instead of a younger, edgier crowd, the bar is filled with people your own age. Quite possibly reliving their own glory days. Your mind flashes back to a night full of blurry memories and cheap beers, this very bar packed to the brim with friends and familiar faces. It was a night of celebration amongst your peers, the pre-party before the main event, so to speak. It was all a blur now, but it was a memory you’d held on to for all these years, and in a way you all did.

You bring your glass to your lips, sipping at the now watered down Gin and Tonic. Your phone buzzes on the bartop in front of you, your screen showing a message in your recently resurrected group chat. All it took was a single photo of the bar and they knew. A memory unlocked over twenty years later. You’d all talked about meeting up again. Coming back to the city where you all met each other, but years passed and life got in the way. It never happened, and that was okay. The friendships never faltered. Those remained a constant, even after all this time.

They couldn’t believe you were here. You told them you were going to come, and why wouldn’t you? When you found out the conference was taking place in Nashville it was nearly the first thing that came to mind. You knew you had to stop in to take this picture just for them. It felt sad almost, being here without them. You knew it wouldn’t be the same, but just being here in this place you have such fond memories of felt good.

A large group descended upon the bar as you arrived, huddling around the bartop ordering drinks and shots. They were loud and rowdy, but you didn’t care much. You know that was you once, and you hope they will look back on this night much the same way you look back on the night you spent here in the company of your friends. They hung out there for most of the night, a few people from their group leaving to hit the pool tables, or step outside to smoke. You kept to yourself, enjoying your drink in such a nostalgic place as you made conversation over texts.

Now though, as your drink was melted and your skin was feeling warm they decided to leave. They cleared out of the bar quickly, taking the noise and the vibrant energy with them. Now that your view is unobstructed you turn your head to look down the bar. It’s mostly empty, only a few people left sipping their own drinks. You bring your glass to your lips as you observe the people around you. It’s quiet and dark and your eyesight really isn’t what it used to be. The man about ten chairs down from you seems to do the same, finally able to see more than the horde of people that made the bar their home all evening. He looks to his left and right, taking in his surroundings the same way you did. He turns his attention back to the television hanging behind the bar, watching whatever football game is happening in the stadium down the street. He’s leaning back in his chair, his right hand fixed on his glass as his left scrolls on his cellphone with a few flicks of his thumb.

The bartender steps up to you, delivering your fresh drink and snapping your attention back ahead of you.

“Thank you,” you offer, sending him a soft appreciative smile.

“My pleasure, let me know if you need anything,” he answers with a nod of his head.

You grab the new drink and bring the small black straw to your lips, letting the lime flavored bubbles flow over your tongue. The bartender stepping away has grabbed the attention of the man to your right, watching as he turns his head to meet your line of sight. You feel a rush of nerves flood through you, but as the man's eyes meet yours you feel something else. Something familiar and strange. It’s something you know, deep inside of you that's been buried away for years and years. Something you can’t quite put your finger on.

He nods his head and gives you a small, pleasant grin and that’s really all it took to put it together. It hit you like a tidal wave. Connections in your brain that had been long severed, were finally finding their way back together. The tip of his chin, the familiarity of his smile, the dark twinkle of his eyes. This wasn’t just a handsome long haired man alone at a bar. No, it was Jake Kiszka.

You quickly turn away, your eyes zeroing in on the labels on the liquor bottles across from you. You felt stiff as a board as you sat there, your heart pounding in your chest as your mind started to flash through hundreds of memories. Twenty years worth of music, and laughter and memories playing on fast forward. Your mind settles on one though. One in particular that sticks out the most, and probably the most painful one of them all.

You can remember it clear as day. It was an overcast day in March, your phone buzzing incessantly on your desk. Over and over it rang and rang until you picked it up and answered the call. It was bad news, some of the worst you’d heard. “What do you mean a mutual separation?”

How naive of you to believe something so good could last forever. Your small community of friends were devastated, unable to cope with the fact that the very thing that brought you all together was seemingly gone without warning. What you had is all you would ever have. It didn’t feel real. No more concerts to attend, no more music to look forward to. Nothing. It was just over. In the blink of an eye.

Some fans took it hard, lashing out and picking fights. Some were okay, happy and eager to see what would happen with the four members in the future. Whether it be families or solo projects, you knew you would support them either way. What none of you expected though, was for all four of them to disappear.

It was years before anyone saw or heard anything about them, collectively or singularly. They had gone into hiding, something they were good at. No marriage announcements, no birth announcements. Nothing. Even their social media accounts died that day in March. Everything was silent. It hurt, but it was almost better that way.

Around the ten year mark there were whispers, rumors of a reunion. Small gigs here or there, but nothing ever really came of it. They were just that, rumors. There was no show, and there most definitely was no reunion.

A few years later came an album celebration. The fifteen year anniversary of ‘Anthem of The Peaceful Army’. It was slated to be a large event, even a few people you knew planned on attending. Only two of the four showed up to the event that day and the online murmurings of sibling animosity were running rampant. You never heard anything else about the event, there was barely even a photo posted to prove it happened, but it did. Something changed that day in the park, and that was the last anyone had heard or seen anything from Greta Van Fleet.

Now, fifteen years later you find yourself here, looking at Jake Kiszka, in the flesh. He’s older now, in his fifties with a few wrinkles adorning his face and his hair a bit lighter and streaking silver in a few places. He looks different, but in a way, almost exactly the same. He seems to carry himself much in the same way he always did, keeping to himself but exuding a powerful presence.

You toss back a gulp of your drink and make your way into the bathroom. You wonder if you’re making the wrong choice, leaving without saying hello, but you tell yourself that he will be here when you get back. You just have a feeling.

You take a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, swiping on a new layer of lipstick and tucking away a few errant strands of hair as you give yourself a pep talk. You take a deep breath and fix your top before making your way back out to your barstool, happy to find him still sitting in his seat. As you sit down you see him turn towards you, almost looking at you as if he wants to say something, but doesn't.

You remember back then you always told yourself that if you ever saw him you would say hello. You’d walk right up to him and say hi with no fear at all. But you knew that wasn’t true, one look from him had you running the opposite direction. A single glance in your direction mid show nearly had you in cardiac arrest. However, you’d grown up significantly since then, and never before had you had an opportunity like this one.

He bites his lips together and turns away, minding his own business as he sips away at his drink. You smile, noticing that his style really hadn’t changed much. Newer versions of his same tried and true staples hanging from his body. A pair of dirty old boots and a corduroy jacket, of course it’s Jake.

You aren’t sure what has come over you, this sudden bravery taking you by surprise. You turn your barstool just a touch, now facing him just a few seats away.

“Jake?” you say, swallowing down your nerves.

His head snaps to the side, his eyes growing in size as his face softens, “Yes?”

You’re shocked to say the very least, you hadn’t really planned anything past that.

“Hi, um, I’m sorry, I just– I thought it was you but, I wasn’t completely sure. I don’t mean to bother you.”

He shakes his head quickly, “No, no. No bother at all. Have to be honest, it's been a long time since someone recognized me,” he laughs. “Several years at least.”

He stands from his stool and slides his drink along the bar as he walks towards you. You feel your heart rate increase dramatically as you swallow down your nerves. He takes the stool next to you, and now that he is directly in front of you there is no refuting that it’s him. His cologne is strong as you breathe him in, spicy and warm, everything you always expected.

“I think I knew it was you pretty immediately, but it’s dark in here and all…” you smile.

“Well, to be fair I don’t look the exact same as I used to, the years have been tough on me,” he laughs, fidgeting with his glass. “No one really recognizes me at all come to think of it, I’m a little surprised you did.”

“Oh, that can’t be true! I think you look the same!” you say, hoping to boost his ego just a bit. “Honestly, I almost didn’t say anything. I know you value your privacy and I really didn’t mean to bother you.”

He smirks to himself and nods his head, his eyes scanning over you as he lifts his head back up. He stops suddenly, grabbing your arm and turning it just a bit, feeling hesitant to touch you.

“My god, I haven’t seen that in years,” he says, his face completely shocked. “It’s um, it’s the Age of Machine symbol, right? From the album?”

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the recognition, suddenly feeling a bit bashful about the ink. “Yeah, yeah it is. It’s in desperate need of a touch up, but yeah that’s exactly it.”

He runs his finger over it gently in admiration, his eyes growing dark and a smile pulled across his lips. “I loved that one. I still remember when that song came out,” he pauses, taking a pull from his drink. “Those were the goddamn good old days, weren’t they?”

“Yeah, they were. I think that one ended up being my all time favorite,” you say nervously.

He releases his grip on your arm, and you mourn the contact, a sizzling fire burning through your skin at his touch. “My favorite album we ever cut. Always was.”

He sets his glass down and looks at you, really looks at you for the first time. His eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for your name,” he says, still fixated on your face.

You sip at your drink, needing the alcohol to hit you quickly if this conversation was going to continue. “Oh, it’s Y/N, I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind.” you giggle.

He takes in your name as if it’s a fine wine, tasting each syllable on his tongue. “Y/N…” He pauses, trying out the name on his lips. Feeling it roll off his tongue. He nods his head in a silent agreement, liking the way the name sounds falling from his mouth.

“It wasn’t true, you know,” he pauses, biting his lips together, “I didn’t try to be…reclusive or whatever people used to say. It’s not that I needed privacy. Things were just so different back then. I had to recharge, everything was just so…draining, I suppose.”

You find yourself smirking at his choice of words, swallowing down your giggle before you speak. “Yeah, I totally understand. I always wondered how it affected you all, the constant traveling and recording. I can’t imagine it was easy.”

He smiles at you and sighs, tilting his head back a little. The memories flash through his eyes, old and fond.

“It wasn’t,” he admits, a bitter chuckle escaping him. “I loved it. I loved what we were doing. I loved the music and I loved performing in front of huge crowds. There was nothing like it, still isn’t. But it was so…exhausting. I felt like I would never be myself again.” He says, looking back at you, studying you for a silent beat.

You're unsure how to respond to that, feeling guilty for being part of the reason he felt that way, but also being the reason he was able to do what he loved in the first place. As if he can sense your unease, he moves to change the subject.

He clears his throat, “Anyway,” he says, shaking the memories from his mind. “You were a fan. How was that? Did you see many shows or–”

“Yeah, actually. Quite a few. My friends and I would meet up and go together. It was always this big thing, we would plan for months…It was a lot of fun. I think of those days a lot. Miss them often.” you answer, taking a sip of your drink.

You notice his demeanor shift a bit, his tongue rolling out over his bottom lip as he listens. You can see his mind working, tumbling through his own memories no doubt.

He nods his head while you speak, feeling a pang of jealousy in his chest at the mention of your friends. A hint of loneliness in his heart that you were able to share those memories with someone but he no longer could.

“It’s weird, you get so caught up in being…famous, I suppose, as corny as it sounds, that you almost forget what you’re doing it for. You do it to make people happy, to give them a night that they’ll remember, and you get to feel it in return. There’s nothing like that in the world,” he laughs breathlessly.

“So you miss it, then?” you ask nervously.

He chuckles, looking at you. “Of course I miss it. I mean, I can’t say I don’t enjoy having anonymity again. There’s a level of safety and comfort in it, and I’ve learned more about myself and my needs since then, I’ve grown as a person. But at the end of the day I miss the performing, I miss the people, I miss the rush, I miss my brothers,” he says, taking another sip of his drink. “I miss all of it.”

You feel a pang in your chest hearing someone you adore so deeply confide in you about things so close to his heart. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine something like this.

“So you…don’t speak to them? Your brothers?” you ask quietly, not wanting to prod too much.

He sighs and his demeanor shifts, becoming cold and somber. The warmth he held earlier in his voice leaves him at your question.

“No,” he says firmly. “Not much. They’re doing their thing. I’m doing mine. We grew apart. It could’ve been avoided but…” He shakes his head, looking back at his half empty glass.

“We haven’t really talked in a long time. Especially lately,” he answers, his jaw clenches a little as he says it. “To be honest, I haven’t talked to Josh in years.”

“The two of you were always so close. At least, it seemed like that to us.”

“I thought so too. He’s my twin brother, my closest ally. I knew I could tell him anything, I knew I could count on him,” he says, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “Then everything happened the way it did and he left for California. We just…fell apart. Stopped talking for a while, and then we never really started again.”

“What about the others?” you ask, trying to pull his focus from his thoughts of Josh.

He clears his throat, shifting in his seat, his eyes flicking back to you.

“The others,” he says, taking a short breath as his mind runs down the old memories. “We talk on occasion. Sometimes, it’s a short conversation, talking about nothing. It feels like it’s hard to get through to them, to really connect in the same way we used to,” he explains, the sadness returning to his voice. “But when we do talk, it always feels like it did just a few years ago. Nothing’s changed between us but…the distance feels different. When your relationship with someone is built so heavily on one thing and then suddenly it’s taken away, you tend to fall apart from them too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I definitely understand that. I can’t lie, it makes me a little sad to think about it, but I guess that is the reality of life.”

“Yeah,” he says, resting his hand on his glass, “It’s certainly a hard lesson you learn early. Everything is fleeting, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t hold on to it, no matter how hard you try. Can’t live in your glory days forever.”

You sigh and nod, suddenly feeling the weight of the conversation hanging over you. “I always wondered if you would start your own thing.”

He perks up a bit, his expression turning cheeky again, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “I did for a little bit there, if you remember…”

“Oh yeah, god, I almost forgot about Mirador. Whatever happened to that?” you ask, suddenly remembering his side project. He gives a bitter laugh and takes a long, deep drink from his glass.

“Mirador,” he says with a shake of his head. “It was just supposed to be a little side project. Just me and an old friend writing some songs, you know? Sadly, it just didn’t go anywhere, to be completely honest. I realized I couldn’t do the same thing again. People expected too much from me, and every little bit of the project was under a microscope. At least, it felt like it was. It felt like I would never be able to get away from Greta. It felt like I was trying to recapture the magic of an already good thing, but no matter what I did, or how much I put into it, it wasn’t the same. I wanted to break out of my brother's shadow, but that’s very hard to do when he’s the sun.”

“So you knew that we referred to the two of you as the sun and the moon, then?” you smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

A small laugh escapes him, nodding his head. “Yeah I did. I remember that,” he shakes his head, “Me, the moon and my brother, the sun. It's incredibly accurate, I'll give you that.”

“So, you just stopped playing all together then?” you ask, tilting your head to rest on your fist.

He shakes his head, a serious look on his face. “God, no. That’s a ridiculous question. Music is my entire life,” he says, suddenly realizing how intense that statement was. He softens his voice as he continues, not wanting to ruin this good thing.

“I couldn’t give that up, even if I tried I don’t think I could. I love it too much. I have a little set up in my house. Nothing super crazy, my old stuff, my favorite things, the stuff I can’t live without. I write and play almost every day, I go to the occasional open mic or bar, you know how that is,” he shrugs. “I just, I don’t do it for a living anymore. Haven’t for a while. But it still brings me peace. It’s still a part of me.”

“I think there are a lot of people that would still love to hear the music you write, Jake,” you say, a bit of seriousness coloring your tone.

He looks shocked, as if not expecting praise like that. He smiles at you, almost shyly. “I don’t know. It’s been a while, and I’m not the same musician I used to be. I’m– I’m out of professional practice, I mean, I’m not twenty years old anymore,” he says, laughing slightly.

Your eyes flick down to his hands, seeing the callouses still prominent on his fingertips. “I don’t believe that.”

He looks down, his eyes following yours to his hands before flashing back to your face. He laughs again, “I’m serious. I don’t know if I even still have it in me anymore,” he pauses, bringing his eyes back to yours, looking into them as if searching for reassurance. “Playing in front of a few people and playing in front of thousands of people are very different things. It’s been a long time. I don’t know if I could do it again like I used to. I’m not half as good as I used to be.”

“Then you are right on par with every person playing now. You were always better than the rest, Jake, and you know that. Hell, half of the people playing guitar now were inspired by you in the first place. You playing at fifty percent is still everyone else's one hundred percent. And you didn’t win all of those awards for no reason.”

He looks at you, absolutely shocked by your praise. He can feel his heart in his throat, beating fast.

“I…” he stutters, at a loss for words. He stares at you, unable to do anything but listen. There’s such a conviction in your words, such a seriousness and passion behind what you’re saying that it makes his heart beat a little faster.

It’s not that Jake wasn’t used to being praised. In fact, it used to be his favorite thing on Earth. He had gotten used to compliments and applause for years, and soaked it all up. Hearing it from you, after being apart from that type of recognition for so long, was something he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“You’re giving me too much credit,” he teases, “You really were a fan weren’t you…” he says with a smirk.

“Are, a fan…” you correct. “Just because the band isn't together doesn't mean that I stopped listening to the music you made.”

He looks at you quietly, his eyes flicking back to the drink in his hand as a small smile graces his lips. “You don’t know how good it is to hear that,” he says, almost under his breath.

“No one has forgotten about you if that's what you're thinking…”

He shakes his head, taking a long sip of his drink to mask his embarrassment.

“It’s not that I thought people forgot about me, I don’t have that kind of ego,” he laughs. “I guess I just thought that people moved on, that’s all. It’s been a long time. But knowing that you still listen to it, that means a lot. Really, it does.”

You watch him resettle in his chair, turning his body to face yours a little bit more. You can see a sliver of his chest through his open shirt, his style still not changing through the passing years. His silver pendants still hang around his neck, shrouded by his long wavy hair.

His fingers fiddle with the glass in his hand as he turns his body a little more to yours. He’s a little buzzed now, not drunk but not completely sober. He glances down at the exposed bit of your arm, eyes lingering on the ink that graces your skin. He takes another sip of his drink, the alcohol flowing through his veins, emboldening him just a little bit.

“So what about you?” he asks, his eyes raking over you before meeting your gaze.

“Well, I've been here in Nashville all week for a work conference. Tonight is my last night here, so I decided to stop by here and have a drink. Needed to send a picture to my old friends to see if they remembered the place.” you confess.

He nods his head, listening as you speak. He can hear the nervousness coming from your voice, even though you’re trying to cover it up. He takes another sip of his drink, leaning a little closer to hear you better.

“A work conference? What do you do?” he asks, a curious look in his eyes.

“I'm a designer,” you answer confidently. “Mostly digital.”

He raises his eyebrows, a look of genuine curiosity on his face.

“A designer, eh? The artsy type.” He looks at you with an almost amused expression, a crooked smile on his face. “And you’ve been to this bar before?”

“Yeah, um, right before one of your shows actually. It was the opening night for the Starcatcher Tour…” you answer hesitantly.

He nods his head, “I remember that show,” he says under his breath, more to himself than anything else. “That was a very memorable night.”

“It was, it was,” you agree, both of you letting your mind fill with the old memories.

“That whole tour was one wild ride,” he pauses, letting his eyes flick over you. “So what else about you? Married? Kids?” he asks, sipping from the remnants of his drink.

You laugh, “Oh, no, neither. I'm divorced actually.”

His eyebrows dart up, looking surprised. “Divorced? How long?” he asks, tilting his head a little as he studies you.

“It's been two years.” you answer.

He nods, “Three for me. Shitty club to be a part of,” he grins, trying to bring up the mood. “Not even a free hat.”

“You're divorced?” you ask in shock, “I didn’t even know you were married.”

He nods again, his eyes looking down, avoiding your gaze for a moment. “Yep, three years now. It, uh-,” he pauses, choosing his words carefully. His fingers wrap around his glass, twirling it in his hands. “It didn’t end well. At all.” he says, looking up at you. “Two beautiful kids though.”

“Of course they are,” you tease, nudging his shoulder.

He laughs, the first genuine laugh you’ve heard from him all night.

“They’re fantastic,” he says, the pride in his voice evident. “They’ve grown so much, too much. I don’t get to see them nearly as much as I’d like, but they are amazing. Oldest just started college, and my youngest is finishing up high school.”

“Boys?” you ask.

He grins, a look of fondness in his eyes. “My son is following in my footsteps a bit, surprisingly. Loves music, plays several instruments, the whole deal,” he laughs. “My daughter, on the other hand, absolutely despises music and is an incredible athlete. I think she did that completely out of spite.”

“You're a lucky man,” you smile.

He looks up, his eyes meeting yours. In the low light of the bar, you can see the flecks of gold that are hidden in them. He sighs, letting his fingers pick idly at the rim of his glass.

“I suppose I am,” he admits, the corner of his lips tugging upwards. “The craziest part of all of it is how much I miss noise.”

“Noise?” you ask, giggling.

He laughs, his eyes twinkling. “That came out wrong.”

“I mean,” he continues, “I miss the sounds of a family. I miss the sounds of little girls yelling in excitement, of boys getting angry because they lost their game, of music playing every day every where, of arguing over what to have for dinner or tour schedules. I miss that more than anything. Sometimes my house is just too quiet. I’ve never liked the quiet.”

You feel a twinge of sadness in your chest, knowing the exact feeling he speaks of.

“I spent my entire life surrounded by it, shit, making it myself. I never ever knew a moment of peace, and it almost became comforting to me. Three siblings and a rock band will do that to you. But now it’s just quiet. Silent all the time, everywhere. You never realize how much you miss it until it’s gone. You’ve got no idea how silent an empty house can be until you’re forced to live in it.”

“I have a little bit of an idea,” you tease, finishing your drink.

He raises his eyebrows, a sly smile on his lips. “That's why I come here,” he says, looking around the bar. “To find the noise.”

“A sticky dive bar?” you laugh, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.

“Exactly,” he says, nodding his head. “I’m sure there are a few nicer places I could go, but they wouldn’t be nearly as interesting,” he laughs, looking around. “There's almost always someone or something going on, music, people. It helps,” he shrugs, focusing on your face, “Fills the silence…Plus, it can’t be that bad if you found yourself here, too…”

You grin, nodding your head in agreement, “You make a great point, Mr. Kiszka.”

“I have my moments,” he says with a wink. He brings his drink to his lips, his eyes never leaving your face. He studies you as he swallows a sip, his eyes slowly looking over every part of you.

“You said you are texting your friends,” he pauses, glancing down to your phone on the bar top, “Should we send them a photo?”

“Do you want me to send them a photo?” you tease, raising your eyebrow.

He grins at you, his eyes flashing. “I think I do,” he says, his voice deep and sultry. He holds his hand out for your phone, “May I?”

You smile and nod, placing your phone into his hand. He hits the camera icon and opens the screen, the two of you appearing in frame in the dimly lit bar.

His eyes are focused on the screen, snapping the photos, but for a brief moment he flicks his eyes down to you, smiling. He lets the camera click a few times for each shot, getting a variety. He looks at the photos for a moment, a cocky look in his eyes. His body brushes against your arm as he moves it, the heat traveling from his body to yours.

“Smile for me, love,” he murmurs, his voice close to your ear. A chill runs down your spine at his words, his breath warm on your skin.

You grin as he snaps a few more photos, your mind reeling over the fact you were taking pictures at a bar with Jake Kiszka in the year 2049.

He gives an almost cocky smile as he hands you your phone back, his fingers slowly tracing down your arm. “There,” he says, taking a long drink from his glass, the alcohol going straight to his head. “Pick whichever one, I think they’re all good. Actually, you should send them to me, too.”

What?

You hand him your phone, letting him type in his number and sending a few photos to himself. He hands it back to you with a nod, and you swear you can almost feel your heart stop. You quickly pick a few, sending them off to your friends, anxiously awaiting their replies. You giggle as you lock your phone and set it back on the bar top. “Thank you, for that.”

He smiles back at you, his lips still wet from the alcohol. “Of course,” he murmurs. He leans back in his chair, his shirt gaping open a bit more, his necklaces on display. His chest is tanned and strong, you notice that he has kept in shape since the last time you saw him. He lets his eyes flutter across your body, his fingers toying with his glass.

“The least I could do after you’ve sat here and let me talk your ear off,” he laughs. “I should be thanking you,” he pauses. “It’s been really nice to reminisce with someone who remembers me when I was in my prime.”

“Who says you’re not, still?” you ask.

He laughs, his head cocked to the side. He looks at you again, his eyes raking over your skin. He lets the tip of his finger slowly trail down the exposed skin of your arm, drawing a small shiver from you. “That's awfully kind of you,” he murmurs, “But we both know that's not true. I'm not the same man I was twenty years ago. Definitely don't look the same. Not the rockstar I used to be.”

“It’s not the way we look on the outside, it’s who we are on the inside. And for what it’s worth, how you look on the outside is still just as beautiful as I remember. A perfect match for this,” you answer, pressing your finger to his chest.

His heart thumps wildly under your hand, a small gasp escaping his lips. He stares at you in shock, his breathing speeding up as your words and touch send heat through his body. He lets himself lean into your touch, enjoying the contact, savoring it. His eyes soften, looking at you with a different kind of look. He’s silent for a moment, just staring at you. When he speaks, his voice is raspier than before.

“You’re much kinder than I deserve,” he murmurs.

“I don’t think that’s true either, Jake,” you breathe.

He laughs again, his breath slightly shaky. The way you say his name sends another shiver through his body, your soft voice causing his heart to beat faster. He lets his own fingers brush up to encircle your wrist, gently holding your hand in place against his bare skin. He feels the heat radiating from your skin into his own, the touch burning him like a white-hot flame.

His eyes never leave yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me ask you a question.”

“What’s that?” you answer.

He hesitates for a moment, the alcohol making him bolder than normal. His eyes are locked on yours, taking in every feature of your face.

“Did you ever receive a rose?”

You look down bashfully, fiddling with the ring on your finger, “No, actually. I never did. The people around me always did, but never me. I never got any of that kind of stuff.”

He can see the disappointment in your eyes at your confession. A frown creases his own brows. He lets his fingers run idly along the inside of your wrist, his skin craving the sensation.

His eyes darkened, “That’s a shame,” he murmurs. “But I can’t say I am surprised, my brother always did have a hard time seeing what was right in front of him.”

“Just wasn’t meant to be,” you whisper.

He lets his eyes search your face, almost as if studying you. He lets his fingers slowly brush up the underside of your arm, the light touch leaving a trail of goosebumps across your skin. He can feel his heart still stuttering in his chest, the alcohol and the proximity to you making his head spin. He lets out a breath as he looks at you, his eyes flicking over every feature of your face.

“This is going to sound crazy, but,” he pauses, rubbing his fingers over his lips, “Would you like to come somewhere with me? I want to show you something.”

“Oh, like– like leave?” you ask, taken aback at his suggestion.

He can see the surprise on your face and it makes him smile. He nods his head, his hand still encircling your wrist, his fingers tracing the shape of your arm. “It’s not far from here, I promise. Just a five minute drive,” he murmurs, his voice almost pleading. “I think you’ll like it, I’m sure of it.”

Your eyes dart around his face. Is Jake Kiszka really asking you to leave with him?

“Um, I-” you pause, trying to decide if this is a good idea. You know this opportunity will never come again, so you make the decision to agree. “Sure. We can do that.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his lips curving up into a smile. He lets his eyes rake over your face again before finally releasing your wrist. He fishes in his front pocket, pulling out a roll of cash. He tosses a few bills on the bar, more than enough to cover his tab and yours. He then places his hand on your lower back, his fingers searing at the touch.

“Let's go,” he says gently, guiding you off the stool. “It's not far at all.”

You let him lead your outside into the humid late summer air, the humidity thick and heavy around you. He leads you to his car, opening the passenger door for you.

He walks around the front of the car, his heart hammering in his chest. He gets in slowly, his eyes raking over your body.

He starts the car, the engine rumbling to life. He rests his hand on the gearshift and looks over at you, his expression uncertain.

“Ready?”

“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?” you giggle, turning to look at him.

He laughs, the sound low and slightly nervous. He keeps his hand on the gearshift as he looks over at you, grinning. “You’ll have to wait and see,” he teases. “You’re just gonna have to trust me on this one, love.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sentiment, nodding your head as you turn your eyes back to the dark road in front of you. He was right, it wasn’t long at all until you were pulling into a parking space at a park. It was dark, only a few stray street lights buzzing overhead.

He steps out of the car, coming around to open your door. He offers his hand, the skin hot to the touch. He helps you out, holding your hand as he guides you out towards one of the lit sidewalks. He walks quietly next to you, keeping his stride short to match yours. The sound of crickets filters through the air, creating an almost peaceful hum.

He smiles at you, the warmth of his hand encompassing yours. “Almost there,” he murmurs, gently pulling you forward.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, the feeling of his hand in yours so gentle but so firm. The two of you walk down the sidewalk further into the park, finally stopping just in front of a large open area, with a single well manicured rose bush. A small gold plaque stands in front of it, but you can’t yet make out the words.

He looks over to you, the corner of his lips curving up in a slight smile. He gestures to the plaque, his voice is soft, “Go ahead, read it,” he says, reluctantly releasing your hand. He stays put, shoving his hands into the pocket of his pants as he watches you with a smug grin.

You walk over to the plaque, trying to focus on the weathered metal, but one thing is perfectly clear, the logo forever visible in your mind. 'Greta Van Fleet'. Your eyes focus harder in the low lighting, doing your best to read the old dedication.

‘This White O’Hara rose bush, dedicated on this day, October 19, 2033, celebrates the 15 year anniversary of the release of ‘Anthem of The Peaceful Army’. Planted in memory of the adoring fans that made this dream possible, in the name of peace, love, unity and equality.’

‘They pass the torch and it still burns, once children then it’s now our turn.’

He stands there, silently watching as you read the plaque. The sounds of the night fill the air around him, crickets and cicadas creating an almost peaceful hum. He watches your face intently, searching for your reaction. He can see you taking in each word, the slight tilt of your head, the narrowing of your eyes as you read. He stays quiet, letting you digest every word. He lets his eyes fall over you, taking in the way the light of the street lamp hits you. Admiring you.

You feel tears spring to your eyes as you let them take in the sight of the beautiful white roses, flourishing on the mature bush. The fragrance is overwhelming, the beautiful smell filling your senses. You turn around to look at Jake, seeing him smiling as you figure it all out.

He can see the tears in your eyes, his chest tightening at the sight. He silently watches you move closer to him, his breath hitching in his throat. He remains quiet, the words that he wants to say stuck in his throat. He swallows again, the intensity of his gaze never leaving your face as you come to a stop in front of him.

“Jake, this is so beautiful. It’s so– These are the prettiest roses I’ve ever seen.” you say, stopping in front of him.

He lets out a shaky exhale, his breath mixing with the muggy summer air. He reaches out and tentatively places his hand on your elbow, the touch almost hesitant. His eyes never leave yours. He can feel his heart thudding in his chest, the beat echoing in his ears. He bites his lower lip, his breath coming out in a soft huff.

“They are…they’re perfect, truly,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to the beautiful white roses behind you. “My hard work has paid off I suppose.”

“Your hard work?” you ask.

He nods, his hand never leaving your arm. It moves though, ever so gently moving down to wrap around your hand again. He absentmindedly toys with your fingers as he speaks, his eyes still never leaving yours. He lets the edges of his lips quirk up in a wry smile. “I planted these roses. Well, Sam and I. And I tend to them now. I wanted something out here that would be here for years, centuries. I wanted something permanent.” He lets his eyes trail up your body, his gaze never leaving yours for a moment. “I wanted something eternal. This was sort of my last effort to fix things and– well, yeah.”

“Jake it’s beautiful,” you breathe, “A beautiful tribute.”

His voice is husky when he speaks again, “You like it,” he murmurs, the words a statement. “I knew you would. But there is actually one more thing.”

He pulls away from you, releasing your hand as he walks towards the bush, reaching his hand into his pants pocket and pulling out a small pocket knife. His arm descends into the mass of leaves, fiddling with the knife before pulling out a perfect, bloomed rose.

He turns back to you, holding the flower gently in his hand. The rose looks small in his hand, his fingers wrapped gingerly around the stem. He takes a step forward, closing the distance between you once more, quickly using his blade to shear away the thorns and leaves. He lifts the rose gently, the bloom just a few inches from your face, looking at you with unwavering eyes.

“For you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry it’s late.”

Your breath catches in your throat, accepting the rose from his hand. A smile parts his lips as he watches you bring it to your nose to breathe it in. “It was worth the wait.”

He lets a shaky exhale from his lungs, his chest almost hurting from how fast his heart is beating. He can feel his own breath get caught in his chest, his breath becoming labored at the sight of you with the bloom held in your soft hands. He swallows again, his eyes raking over your face. He takes a small step forward, the toes of his boots now almost touching your own. His voice is raspy when he speaks.

“I just wish it could have been sooner,” he mutters, his voice almost sad. He runs his hand through his hair, a slight flush of emotion crossing his face.

“I actually think I prefer this,” you breathe, letting your eyes flick up to his.

He lets out a disbelieving laugh, the sound filling the air around you. He can’t help the way his body reacts to your simple words, a rush of emotion surging through him. “Are you– Would you be up for one more adventure?” he asks.

You’d never felt more sure of anything in your life. You felt safe with him, you’d follow him to the ends of the earth. “Of course.”

He lets his smile grow bigger, a rush of relief coursing through him. He reaches to take your hand again, the skin warm against his own. He lets his fingers interlace with yours, holding on firmly.

“Good, then let’s go,” he says, pulling you along with him as you make your way back to his car, white rose in hand.

He opens the passenger door for you, gently helping you into the car. He closes the door, coming around the other side, climbing back into the car. He starts the car, the engine rumbling to life again. He shifts the car into gear, pulling out of the park, the streetlights casting a harsh glow over his face as he drives. His hands are still shaking on the wheel, adrenaline still coursing through his body.

“That was really sweet of you Jake,” you murmur, “I’ll think about this forever.”

He can feel his heart skip a beat at your words, his chest tightening at the sound of your voice. He swallows, his eyes never leaving the road.

“I hope you will,” he says quietly, his voice still a bit shaky. He lets his grip on the wheel tighten as he speaks. The radio is off, the only noises coming from the hum of the engine and the sound of his breathing. “There is just one more thing I would like to show you.”

“I can't wait,” you admit, watching him turn into a neighborhood. You can only assume he is taking you back to his home.

He lets his jaw clench, his eyes remaining trained on the road ahead. He feels the nervousness bubbling up in his chest as he continues driving, the familiar surroundings of his neighborhood coming into view. His house is still lit up, the outside lights leaving a soft glow on his expansive front yard. He pulls into the driveway, putting the car into park.

“This would be me,” he mutters, his voice low.

“This is your home? It's beautiful.”

He hesitates before turning off the car, his fingers still gripping the steering wheel. He lets his eyes glance at you before looking out at the house.

“It definitely was an upgrade back in the day,” he chuckles, still staring at the house, lost in thought. He finally lets his fingers slide off the wheel, taking the keys out of the ignition.

He opens the door, climbing out of the car. He comes around to your side, opening the door for you once more. He offers his hand to you, the gesture almost gallant. Once you’re out of the car, he closes the door behind you, taking your hand in his again. He leads you up the path to the front door, unlocking it quickly. His heart is beating fast once more, the blood rushing to his ears.

You take in the entry way of his home, grand and exactly what you expected his home to look like. “Wow, Jake, this is…”

The words leaving your mouth fill his chest with warmth, the anxiety from before replaced with a sense of pride. He lets the corners of his lips quirk up as he closes the door behind them, the sound cutting through the quiet in the house.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft. He glances down the hall, his expression slightly uncertain. “But the best part is back here...”

You follow him down the hallway, turning a few corners and stopping in front of a large wooden door. He twists the handle and pushes the door open, letting you enter first. You’re immediately captivated by the room, filled floor to ceiling with guitars, artwork, posters, and more memorabilia than you’d ever seen in your life. It was lit by a small lamp in the corner, the room glowing a warm amber color.

He lets his eyes fall over the room, taking in the look on your face. The look of awe is what he had hoped for, and he feels a sense of pride wash over him. His chest is tight, his heart beating erratically. He takes a step into the room, the small amount of light casting shadows on the floor. He walks over to a small, low table, flicking on another, smaller lamp.

“This is my office, so to speak,” he says quietly, his voice soft. “But I'm sure you know what actually happens in here.”

“This is where you play,” you breathe, letting your eyes focus on the guitars lining the walls. One catches your attention immediately, your hand itching to run your fingers over the frets.

“Indeed it is.” He slowly turns to look at you, his expression half-hidden in the dim lighting. The shadows on his face make his features sharper, the hollows beneath his cheeks creating deep shadows that leave his face in contrast. “Had it built custom for the house, has sound proof walls and everything…My ex she– she got tired of the music all the time,” he laughed. “Had to make some compromises.”

“There is so much here…” you say, looking around in wonder. “I don't even know what to look at first.”

He watches as your eyes flit from item to item, trying to take it all in and process it all at once.

“Feel free to look at whatever you want, touch whatever you want, I won’t stop you,” he assures and lets his eyes follow yours, watching as you look at all the pieces of his life surrounding you.

You recognize some things, others are completely new to you. Photos you’ve never seen, and posters you only ever saw photos of, here now in front of your face. “I wish this stuff didn’t make me sad,” you confess, snapping a few photos of old tour posters.

He takes a few steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face. He swallows and gently touches your arm, the contact sending sparks up his fingers. He can hear the sadness in your voice, his heart twists in his chest.

He stands close, his chest almost touching yours. He lets the edges of his lips quirk up into a slight smile. “I understand, trust me,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I can assure you there is something in here that may take the edge off.”

He makes his way over to a small shelf housing a collection of vinyl records, thumbing through the stack and pulling out a black cardboard sleeve. He pulls the vinyl from inside, revealing it to you in the light. The sticker on the front reads, ‘Test Pressing’ but offers no other distinguishing qualities. He offers you a teasing smile as he stands to place it on his turntable.

He carefully places the record onto the turntable, his slender fingers handling it with a certain amount of reverence. The record player is old, the vinyl spinning with a soft crackle of static. He’s almost excited to hear it, anticipating your reaction. He stands next to the record player, his eyes darting from the spinning record to your face, watching as you process his actions. He lets his fingers rake through his hair, a slight smirk on his lips as sound begins to play through the speakers.

Music begins to play, the familiar guitar tone striking a chord within your chest. You could recognize it anywhere, and just as you were about to speak, you hear Josh’s voice singing lyrics you’d never heard.

“Jake, what is this?” you gasp.

He watches as your eyes widen, your mouth parting slightly in surprise. He can see the disbelief in your eyes as you register the sound, a song you couldn’t place because it was never released. He can only respond with a small shrug, his heart twisting in his chest.

“I– I’ve never heard this,” you breathe.

He gently steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face. He’s close enough to get a good look at your surprised expression, his heart still pounding. “No one ever has,” he whispers, his voice soft. “It was never released. Never made it past the studio.”

“Why not?”

He lets out a huffed laugh, the sound almost sad. He runs his slender fingers through his hair, his expression almost troubled. He lets his eyes flutter down to the record, his heart twisting in his chest.

“Management thought it was too...” he trails off, struggling to find the right words to say. “It was too…intimate. Josh wouldn't budge on it. We all tried. We had so much other material...We could have gone a completely different direction. But Josh just–He wouldn't. Said it was this or nothing. This is ultimately what ended everything.”

“Oh my god, I– I had no idea.” you whisper, still hearing the beautiful and deeply personal lyrics playing in the background.

He lets a sharp exhale of air leave his nose, his eyes still focused on the record spinning gently, the sound of Josh's voice filling the small room. His heart is still beating violently, the sound of it thrumming through his body. He shakes his head slightly, his jaw clenching.

He wants to reach out and touch you again, but he suddenly doesn't know what to say. He lets the moment stretch for a few more seconds before he speaks again. “I thought you’d like to hear it.”

“I just can't believe it. It's beautiful, it would have been perfect…”

He swallows, the lump in his throat refusing to go away. He nods in agreement with you, his heart aching. The song is beautiful, it’s sad and lonely and everything that he loves. He looks back at the record, his eyes narrowing as he focuses on the record spinning.

“Yes...it would have been…” he mutters, his voice soft.

You feel the energy between you shift, his eyes are staring into yours, deep and dark, and you can’t seem to look away. His hands on your skin are burning through you like fire, and you can’t help but to fall deeper into the flames.

He swallows, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. His eyes are locked on to your face, a mixture of sadness and something else in his gaze. He feels his fingers twitching slightly, almost itching to reach out and touch you again, the burning in his body becoming increasingly more intense with each passing second.

“God…” he mutters, his voice low.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling his warmth against your palms. His face is inches from yours, and you know in this moment that he wants you just as badly as you want him.

The thumping in his chest increases, the sound of his heart beating in his ears almost deafening at this point. He can feel the tension in his body increase, his blood rushing through his veins. He reaches up, his fingers grasping the back of your neck, his body on autopilot at this point. He pulls you flush against him, the burning in his body increasing to the point of being almost painful.

He’s aware of the record still spinning in the background, but the only thing he can focus on is you. His hand slides up your neck to the back of your head, his fingers getting lost in your hair. He lets out a huff of air, the breath shuddering slightly, his body shaking. His eyes are focused on yours, the deep brown of them almost completely lost to the black of his expanding pupils. He feels your hands against his chest, the warmth of your body against his leaving a scorching trail across his skin.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathes, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Please,” you whisper.

He lets out a growl as he slams his lips against yours, his hand in your hair pulling you in tighter against him. The action makes his heart jump, his chest tight and aching. He kisses you hungrily, his body on fire as he tastes you through the kiss. He parts your lips with his, his tongue exploring your mouth with an increasing sense of urgency.

He tastes of Whiskey and peppermint, his lips warm as they envelop yours. His hands are tight against your head, gripping into your hair so firmly it’s almost as if he believes you will float away. Your hands travel beneath the opening of his shirt, feeling his warm chest on your fingertips. A hum leaves his lips as his tongue twists with yours, his legs walking the two of you backwards to an oversized velvet chair.

He moans as your fingers touch his skin, your warmth igniting something dangerous inside of him. He can’t help the way his body reacts, the way his fingers grip your hair a little more firmly, his body becoming almost starved of all things rational.

He continues to kiss you desperately, the taste of you leaving him wanting more. He guides you backwards, the back of his legs hitting the chair, causing him to stumble slightly before sitting down in it, pulling you into his lap without breaking the kiss.

Your legs straddle him, his hands automatically finding their way to your hips as he pulls you down further. He breaks the kiss, panting slightly as he pulls just far enough away to look at your face, his eyes raking over your features, taking in the flush creeping over your cheeks. “God, you're beautiful…” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

Your insides turn to a puddle as his words float through your mind. All you can focus on is the feeling of his hands on your body, and the taste of his lips on yours. You can feel him growing hard beneath you, his hips moving upwards to meet yours ever so slightly.

He lets out a low moan as he feels you move against him, his body reacting immediately to the contact, a shiver rushing through his body in response. He lets his hands grip your hips again, fingers digging into the soft skin there, the motion making his heart pound. He leans back in, capturing your lips in a kiss, the action full of hunger and need. He can’t get enough of you, the warmth of your body against his own almost driving him insane.

You feel his hands trailing up your sides, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt as his lips move to press wet kisses to your neck. His hands stop just at the swell of your breasts, his fingertips gliding gently over the round skin. You pull away from him, looking into his lust blown eyes and nodding your head in approval.

“Please, Jake,” you beg.

His eyes flutter at the sound of your voice, the sound of your plea making his heart jump in his chest. He lets out a low groan, his body almost shaking at the sound of you begging, his desire increasing tenfold. He lets his lips move back up to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there gently as you feel his fingers move up, gently skimming the underside of your tits, the touch light and deliberate.

“Tell me you're sure,” he demands.

“I’m positive.”

He lets out another soft moan against your neck, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin of your sides. He runs his nose along the skin, his head spinning, his body already on edge, the sound of your voice fueling the fire within him. He leans back in the chair, his breathing ragged as he lets his eyes rake over your body, the sight of you straddling him on his lap almost too much to bear.

“Take your shirt off,” he rasps, his eyes glued to you.

You reach for the hem, pulling the fabric over your head as his eyes lock in on your bare chest. His hands move to cup at your tits, sliding around to your back and pulling you in towards his face until his lips connect with the plump skin. You feel his tongue swirling around your nipple as his hands move down your body, pulling your hips harder into his. He growls against your skin, alternating between sucking at your chest and nipping at the sensitive skin.

“Jake,” you whine, tossing your head back as you revel in the feeling.

He moans again as you say his name and pulls you tighter against him, his fingers gripping your body possessively, his need growing ever more urgent. “I need you on the bed, sweetheart,” he whispers hoarsely, his words laced with desire.

“So take me,” you answer, looking at his pink swollen lips.

He smirks at your response, the sound of your words sending a shudder through him, his eyes dark and intense. He doesn’t need to be told twice. He moves quickly, his strong arms scooping you up off his lap and setting you back down on the floor. He stands, his broad stature leading you with ease as he walks out of the room and across his expansive house.

He leads you to a large bedroom, the room lit only by a small lamp on the bedside table. He walks you quickly over to the bed, the plush comforter and pillows surrounding the king sized bed. He gently pushes you down onto the bed, his body towering over you as he stares down at your half naked body, his eyes practically black with desire.

You can feel the plush bedding beneath you, a dark navy color to compliment the jewel toned walls. Your chest is heaving with want for him, watching as he pulls his black linen shirt over his head.

He stands at the edge of the bed, his shirt tossed to the floor and his muscles taut underneath his skin. His eyes rake over your form on the bed, taking in every little detail, his need increasing by the second. He swallows suddenly, his nerves beginning to take over. It’s been so long since he’s done this with someone. He tries to push down the rising anxiety, his eyes never leaving your face.

You can see the unease on his face, sitting up on your elbows to look at him. “You okay?” you ask gently.

His heart skips a beat as you ask him the question, the genuine concern in your voice pulling at his heartstrings. He lets out a soft huff of air, shaking his head slightly.

“Yeah…yeah I’m fine,” he reassures, but his voice betrays him, his words coming out as a whisper, his chest tight.

“You look amazing, Jake…”

He can feel another shiver run through him as you speak, your words pulling at him. He swallows, his chest getting tighter, his heart thrumming in his ears.

He takes another deep breath, letting his eyes rake over your body. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now,” he says quietly, his voice raspy and low, his eyes taking in the sight of you on his bed, your skin practically glowing under the lamplight.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

He lets out a shuddering breath at your request, his skin prickling at the sound of your voice. He moves fast, closing the few feet between you and crawling onto the bed, his knee on either side of your thighs as he hovers over you. His hand gently cups the side of your face, his thumb tracing your jawline, his other hand running down your side, his touch feather-light.

You reach up, running your hand across his chest, feeling the smoothness of his skin and the cold metal of his necklaces. You wrap your hand around his neck, guiding his lips back to yours as he lowers himself to hover over you. As his lips connect with yours you feel his free hand unbuttoning your jeans, and pulling the zipper down.

Your kiss is harsh and needy, wanting him as close as you can get him. You lift your hips to help him slide your jeans off, leaving you in your underwear beneath him. His hand moves to cup at your heat, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his hair tickles your cheeks.

He can feel the heat coming off of you, the sensation making him ache for more. He lets out a low hum as his hand runs between your legs, his fingertips gently running over your mound, feeling the heat and the wetness through your panties. He breaks the kiss, his head spinning as desire and need courses through his body. He peppers your jaw and neck with quick kisses, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin.

“God you're so perfect,” he whispers hoarsely, his breath coming out in short pants.

Your hips arch into his touch, silently begging him to remove the barrier between the two of you. “You feel perfect,” you whine, twisting your hand into his hair.

He lets out a low growl as you pull at his hair, the sound driving him crazy. He can't wait any longer, the burning desire to taste you, to feel you, becoming almost overwhelming.

He lets his hand slip past the elastic of your panties, his fingers slipping through the wetness, a low moan leaving his lips as he touches you. “God you're so ready,” he breathes against your neck.

You whine as his steady hand guides his fingers over your clit, sending a lightning bolt of pleasure through your body. “Fuck,” you whine, “Keep– Keep going.”

He can feel the way you squirm beneath him as his fingers work between your legs, his heart thrumming in his chest at your reaction. He lets out a low groan, his fingers circling your clit as he responds to your request.

“Yeah?” he whispers, his fingers tracing and teasing. “Like that sweetheart?” he asks, delivering a particularly sensual swipe of his fingers.

You hum in pleasure, letting your eyes flutter closed as you enjoy the sensation. You can hear his pendant tinkling together above your face, committing the sound to memory. He's painfully hard beneath his jeans, the feeling almost uncomfortable in his current position, but his focus is completely on the reaction he's getting out of you, the sound of your pleasure filling his ears, the feeling of your body beneath his fingers making his head spin.

You feel his hand slide further down, three fingers sliding through your wetness before gently gliding to your entrance. “Two or three baby, you tell me what you want.”

“Tw-Three,” you stammer, quickly correcting yourself.

He lets out another low laugh against your neck, his tongue tracing a line up to your ear. “Good girl,” he murmurs, the sound of the words sending a shiver through your body.

His fingers slide back through your wetness, a soft moan leaving his lips as he presses three fingers in to the knuckle, the feeling lighting your body on fire. “You’re so perfect, sweetheart.” he growls, letting his fingers move perfectly inside of you.

He lets out a low moan at the sound of his name on your lips, his fingers working inside of you, his knuckles rubbing against your inner walls. He's completely lost in your response, the feeling of you beneath him driving all rational thoughts out of his head.

“That's it, sugar, say my name again,” he commands, his voice low and breathy. “God, you feel so good around me.”

“Jake,” you whine, feeling his thumb move to rest on top of your throbbing clit.

He doesn’t stop his fingers, his thumb gently beginning to rub at your clit, the feeling and sound of you pulling another moan from his mouth. “That’s right sweetheart, let me hear you. Don’t hold back on me.”

You feel your insides starting to tense, your thighs are quivering with anticipation, and your blood is moving through your veins faster than it ever has. You let your eyes open to look at him, completely entranced with the way his fingers are disappearing inside of you. “I'm close, baby.”

He lifts his head to look at your face, his eyes scanning across your features, taking in the flushed appearance and hazy expression on your face.

“Let go, baby,” he rasps, his fingers increasing their pace. “I wanna see, I wanna hear you cum for me.”

You can hardly deny him, your body giving in to his demands whether you like it or not. Your body tenses around his fingers, your hips rolling up into his touch as the tension snaps inside of you. Your back arches up off the bed as his name falls from your lips, echoing through the air around you as soft curses leave his lips.

He stares down at your face, watching you come undone beneath him, and it’s the most breathtaking, perfect thing he’s ever witnessed.

He lets his fingers slow as you ride through your orgasm, gently removing them, a low hum leaving his lips as he sits back a bit, his eyes taking in your disheveled form. “God you’re fucking beautiful, baby,” he murmurs against your neck.

You are working steadily to catch your breath, looking at him as he pulls his fingers to his lips.

He lets his eyes stay on yours as he runs his tongue over his fingers, the taste of you making his head spin and his stomach tense. He moves onto his knees as you settle back down, his eyes roaming over you, the sight of so needy beneath him makes his body ache.

He lets his hands run up your bare legs, gently massaging your thighs and hips. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice low and raspy.

“That was,” you pause, letting out a sigh, “Amazing, Jake…”

He lets out a soft laugh at your response, his fingers continuing to massage your skin as he responds. “Yeah?” he asks, a smirk slowly spreading across his lips.

“Yeah, but you already know that,” you counter, pulling him down towards you by the chain of his necklaces. He moves quickly, his body pressed flush to yours before you move to roll him to his back, taking position on top of him.

His hands rest on your thighs, his thumbs making small circles on your skin as he looks up at you. He lets his eyes rake over your face, his hands gently squeezing your hips, trying to keep the cool demeanor as desire begins to overtake him.

“Think you’re taking charge here, sweetheart?”

“I know so,” you quip.

“Only because I’m letting you.” he smirks, moving a hand to rest behind his head as he watches you.

He looks so good beneath you, the years passed only adding to the natural sexiness he always possessed. Your eyes rake over his body as your fingers move to unbutton his pants.

He sucks in a deep breath as you get the button unfastened, his entire body practically burning now, his skin overheating. You pull his jeans down below his hips, revealing the thin boxers he’s wearing underneath, and the obvious print of his fully hardened length beneath the fabric. His muscles flex involuntarily as he tries to keep himself in check, but he finds it damn near impossible when you’re looking at him like this.

You drag your hand over his length, pulling a hiss from his chest. You stroke him through his boxers watching his lips part and his breathing become heavier.

He can hardly contain himself as you touch him through the fabric, a shuddering gasp leaving his lips, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him.

“Oh god, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained and harsh. He can’t keep his eyes off you, his heart racing in his chest as you tease him, the friction both incredible and completely torturous.

You move backwards on the bed, letting your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down his legs as you move further backward. His cock springs free from the confines of the fabric, slapping against his groin with an audible thud. His eyes search yours as you throw his boxers to the floor, reaching for his length and grasping it hot and hard in your fist.

He lets his tongue run across his dry lips as you continue teasing him, his eyes darkened with lust, his chest heaving as he tries to keep his breathing even.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he moans, his hips arching up as you continue your movements, craving more friction, more contact.

You settle yourself between his legs, as you continue to work him, giving him a playful smile before dropping your lips over his length. You can taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue, and the warmth of his body on your lips.

He lets out a low moan of pure pleasure as your lips wrap around him, his heart feeling like it’s about to explode in his chest, his body practically on fire.

“God, yeah, that’s it baby,” he grits out, his hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white. “Just like that.” He can’t help but let his hips roll up into your mouth, the feeling and the sight of you, almost too much to take.

You flatten your tongue against him as you take him further into your mouth, feeling his tip brush at the back of your throat. His hips jerk into you, his own primal need for more manifesting. When you don’t gag, it takes him by surprise, his eyes widening as he looks at you.

“Fuck sweetheart, and I didn’t think you could get any better.”

You pull back a bit, sucking as you withdraw your mouth, cupping his balls and pulling a whine from his chest.

“God, yes,” he whines, “Doing fucking amazing.”

You begin to bob your head up and down at a faster pace, feeling his cock start to thicken in your hand. You pull your mouth from him, letting a string of saliva drip down the side of his length. Your eyes never leave his as you lick up the underside of his shaft, savoring the taste of his skin and the feeling of his veins on your tongue.

He practically whimpers at the feeling of your tongue on him, his chest heaving, his body practically trembling with need. He can feel himself getting closer with every movement of your mouth and hand, his eyes locked on yours as he tries to keep control of himself.

He’s on the edge, desperate for release, his body arching up into you. “Keep going, baby, don’t stop,” he moans out, his voice ragged and breathless.

You quicken your pace, eyes locked on him as you continue to work him towards his release, the jerking movements of his cock in your mouth letting you know its arrival is imminent. You hum around him, letting the vibrations of your voice work him even closer.

“Goddamn, Y/N,” he pants, gripping his hand into your hair. His grip is firm and his eyes are pleading, so you give in and give him the approval he is looking for.

In seconds you feel his hand guiding your head at a much faster pace, the head of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat as he curses in pleasure. It’s only a few seconds before you feel him starting to twitch against your tongue, his hand loosening its grip in your hair.

His breathing becomes ragged as he guides your head, his hips bucking and rolling as he gets closer to the edge. “Look at me,” he demands.

Your eyes immediately meet his, and suddenly you feel the rush of bitter warmth as it flows across your tongue and down your throat.

“Take it, fucking take it,” he groans, his hips still moving on their own as he spills into your mouth.

As you swallow down the last of his release, he lets his head fall back on the pillow, his chest heaving and his heart still racing as he comes down from the high. He looks back up at you, his eyes dazed and half-lidded, his breathing labored.

“Jesus,” he rasps, his hand falling from your hair. You move to stand at the end of the bed, tossing your hair over your shoulders and sliding your thong down your legs. He watches you intently, his eyes taking in the sight of your naked body, causing his cock to harden once again. He strokes it a few times, still feeling sensitive from his last orgasm.

“I want you, Jake,” you whisper, kneeling back onto the bed.

“Come here,” he replies, his voice a low, gruff whisper. He sits up, his eyes still taking in every inch of you, his body practically aching with need, his heart thrumming in his chest. He holds a hand out to you, his eyes locked on yours.

You move towards him, taking his hand as you step closer, your body coming flush with his as he pulls you into his lap. He lets his hands move to your hips, pulling you even closer until you're straddling his thighs, his breath catching in his chest as he looks at you.

“You want me to ride you, baby?” you ask, a mischievous smile on your lips.

“Fuck yeah,” he growls, pulling your wet cunt into direct contact with his cock.

“Or,” you pause, pushing up a little, “Would you rather have me on my hands and knees?”

The question makes his heart skip a beat, and he lets out a low groan, his hands gripping tighter on your hips.He hesitates for a moment, his eyes locked on yours, and when he speaks his voice is low and rough.

“That's not fair,” he says, his hands moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer against him.

“Why not?” you ask, pretending not to understand his conundrum. His hands remain firm on your body as he responds, his voice a low, huskier version of his normal tone.

“Because I'm trying to show you some restraint, and you're making it very difficult for me, sweetheart,” he says, his eyes flicking between yours as he looks at you.

“Who said I wanted you to show restraint?” you ask, wanting everything he had to offer.

His eyes darken as you challenge him, his hand gripping tighter on your hip. “You're playing with fire, angel,” he warns, his voice strained as he tries his hardest to keep control of himself.

He can feel the way your body responds to his touch, and he can tell you want more, and god knows he wants more too. You roll your wet pussy against the head of his cock in an attempt to press him even further.

“Last chance baby,” he warns.

You suck a wet kiss to his chest, giving him your answer. He pushes you up, and rolls you off of him, standing from the bed as he snaps his fingers. “Hands and knees,” he barks, pointing to the center of the bed.

The demanding quality of his voice sends a flood of arousal to your core. You follow his command, getting on your hands and knees in the middle of the bed, your heart pounding in your chest as you hear him move behind you.

He walks over to his bedside table, pulling open the bottom drawer and grabbing a silver foil packet from the strip. He rips the packaging open with his teeth, spitting the corner out to the floor before rolling the latex over his throbbing cock.

He moves closer to you, his body now completely flush against yours, his hands on your hips to keep you in place. When he speaks, his voice is low and rough, his breath hot against your ear.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathe, anticipating his first move.

His hands tighten on your hips as you reply, his heart racing as he hears the need in your voice. He leans down, his lips close to your ear as he responds, his words a low, gruff whisper. “Good girl.”

He moves his hips behind you, positioning himself at your entrance. He takes a moment to compose himself, wanting to savor this moment. His grip on your hips is firm, but his touch is gentle as he slowly pushes into you, a low moan leaving his lips as he does.

“God, you feel so good, baby,” he whispers, his body trembling against yours.

The stretch is indescribable, the burning fullness as he fully sheaths himself inside you is nothing like you could have ever imagined. You can feel the throb of his cock against your walls and the way his hands grip into your hips as he adjusts to the snug sensation overwhelming his senses.

“Jake, oh my god,” you whine, feeling his hand slide around to grip your chest. He pinches your nipple between his fingers as he drags his tongue down your spine.

“I know baby, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to move his hips at a faster pace.

The room is starting to grow hot, his headboard tapping the wall with every thrust into you. You can’t seem to stop the continuous flow of noises leaving your chest, only offset by the sound of his hips slapping against your ass.

“Jake, baby,” you cry out, his hips slamming into your at a bruising pace.

“I warned you sugar,” he pants, “I know you can take it.”

He’s right, the pleasure is overriding the pain, leading you towards what you know will likely be the best orgasm of your life. You begin to clench around him as curses fall from his lips, his hands gripping into your shoulders, pulling you back to meet each thrust.

You can feel his hair as it drags across your back, his lips pressing into the arch of your back. “So fucking good for me, sweetheart.”

You know you aren’t going to last much longer, the need for release inching its way closer and closer to the forefront of your mind.

“Baby,” you whine, looking over your shoulder at him. He’s the picture of perfection, hairline dotted with sweat as his chest glows.

“There’s those pretty eyes,” he smirks, “Have half a mind to turn you over, just so I can look at them when I cum.” he ponders, his hips slowing slightly, “You know what, I think I will.”

He pulls out of you quickly, guiding you down to your back before slipping right back into you with a groan.

“Goddamn, perfect pussy,” he murmurs, “Look at me, beautiful.”

You let your eyes meet his, his hair framing his face now as his pendants drag over your skin. Your hand moves to cup at his neck, your thumb splayed wide over his throat.

“Mmmm, yeah,” he growls, “This was the right choice.”

You wrap your legs around his back, his free hand coming down to grip at your ass. His thrusts are starting to become more erratic, his pace slightly off from the consistent speed he was working at earlier. Again you feel the warmth in your stomach starting to creep up your chest and you know that it will be only seconds until your undoing.

His breaths are coming in short, ragged gasps, his heart racing in his chest. He can hear the sound of your bodies colliding over and over again and it only fuels his fire. As he feels you start to get closer, he pushes himself even further, wanting to give you everything he has.

His hand snakes up your body, cupping at your face and letting his thumb trail over your kiss swollen lips. You part them, allowing him to press his fingers to your tongue. You close your lips around them, letting your tongue work at the digits, and suck them without breaking eye contact.

You feel his cock jump inside of you, and you know that you’re both there, but prolonging the moment as long as you can. He presses his fingers to the back of your throat, your eyes watering instantly as you gag around them.

“There it is,” he grins, “Just had to hear it.”

He pulls his wet fingers from your mouth and immediately presses them to your clit, circling around the throbbing nub to get you to the finish line with him.

“Cum for me, baby,” he demands, “Cum with me.”

“I want you, Jake,” you beg, “All of you.”

He lets out a low moan as you speak, the tone of your voice setting his body on fire. He knows what you're saying, what you're asking of him, and who is he to deny you?

“All of you, Jake… Take it off…” you whine.

He lets out a deep growl as you beg, his body trembling with need. He wants to give you what you want, but he also wants to show restraint, his self control hanging by a thread.

“You sure, baby?” he asks.

“Yes, please,” you beg, “Want it so bad. Want to feel you.”

He can't hold back any longer, your words pushing him over the edge. “God damn it,” he growls, his body trembling. He pulls out of you, ripping the condom off and tossing it to the floor, pushing back inside of you with a sinful groan.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he pauses, “This what you wanted, baby? You want my fucking seed? Need to feel me all nice and warm inside you?”

“Yes Jake, Oh god– you’re so– give it to me baby,” you cry out, finally feeling the full warmth of his cock inside of you, stretching and filling you so perfectly.

“I’m there sweetheart, gonna fuckin cum,” he growls, his eyes locked on yours as his hips slam into you. “Soak me beautiful, squeeze my cock while I cum in this pussy.”

His words send you over the edge, your world exploding around you as the sound of his grunts fill the air you seem to be floating in. He’s hot as he spills inside of you, sweat dripping down his chest in salty rivulets.

His lips crash to yours as he works you through it, his tongue dancing with yours as you both start to come down from your orgasms. He breaks the kiss after a moment and rests his forehead against yours, his breathing coming out ragged, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Goddamn, baby, I think that almost killed me,” he laughs, “Was hot as fuck.”

You laugh, as you kiss him again, his smile making your heart flutter in your chest. “You're hot as fuck, so it wasn't hard.”

He laughs at your reply, the sound deep and velvety. “Oh, flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart,” he replies, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face.

He's still trying to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the exertion, but he still has enough energy to pull you closer against him, his hands gently rubbing your back as he speaks. “But you’re only adding to my ego.”

“I knew you were still in there somewhere,” you tease.

He pulls out of you, the evidence of his release slipping between your thighs. “You know, I did not expect my night to go like this.” he smirks, standing from the bed and making his way to the bathroom.

“Glad it did,” you smile, watching his perfect round ass make its way to the sink. He returns a minute later with a wet towel, gently cleaning you up as he showers you with praise.

“I’d like you to stay here, if you’d like.” he asks, nervously, sliding back into the bed next to you.

“I have a flight in the morning,” you counter, biting at your bottom lip.

He pulls you into his side, pushing the hair away from your face as he sighs, “I see,” he pauses, swallowing nervously, “Just stay, and you can leave at whatever time you need to, I would just really like to spend the rest of the night with you here.”

You can't help but smile at the sound of his words, your heart fluttering in your chest. You nod, snuggling closer into his side, your head resting against his chest. “I think I can manage that,” you reply, your voice soft and gentle.

You can feel his heart beating beneath your ear, the steady rhythm comforting you. You close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of his body close to yours. He reaches over and turns off his lamp, leaving the room in darkness.

“Thank you, for the rose…” you whisper into the darkness.

His hand moves to stroke your hair once again, his eyes roaming over your face in the darkness. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he replies, his voice soft and sincere. “Wish it would have happened twenty five years ago,” he says, his words a light tease.

“I’ll keep it forever.”

“You better,” he teases, a hint of a chuckle in his voice, “I expect to see it on Instagram by morning, and don’t forget to tag me.”

You slap at his chest playfully, the joking quality of his voice very present. “Be careful or I just might.”

He laughs, his hand moving to the spot you slapped his chest. “Oh no, please don’t,” he teases in mock horror. He pulls you closer to him, and sighs in contentment, his heart feeling light and happy for the first time in a long time.

—

Your phone buzzing on the nightstand wakes you, your alarm set for 5:00AM. The room is still pitch black, the black velvet curtains shrouding the windows and keeping the light from entering. The air is cool, a little too cold for your liking but the heaviness of the sheets make it bearable. You can feel Jake’s body heat beneath the sheets, radiating and keeping you warm for most of the night. His hands never left your body, keeping you close to him even in his sleep. You slept peacefully, though as you start to move around you notice the soreness of your muscles. You know you have to get up, you have to find your clothes and get back to your hotel before your flight.

You turn to look at Jake, still sleeping next to you. His lips are parted, soft puffs of air drifting between them as his eyelids move. His hair is pulled back away from his face, revealing his ear and the column of his neck. His hand rests gently on your pillow, his fingers twitching in his sleep and bringing a smile to your lips.

You roll over towards the nightstand, noticing that the white rose he presented you with last night was laying across the length of the small table, and you know he must have placed it there at some point during the night. The petals have opened more now, and your heart flutters as you remember him giving it to you. You grab your phone and open the camera, snapping a photo of the rose on the nightstand just to remember the moment.

You take in the sight of him one last time before silently slipping out of the bed, feeling very exposed as you look around the dark room in search of your clothes. You redress yourself as quietly as possible, remembering that you shed your shirt in his office. You grab your rose, and take one last look at his perfect sleeping form before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and slipping out of the large wooden door and into the hallway.

You make your way to his music room, seeing your shirt still laying on the floor and the record still spinning idly as the speakers crackle. You grab your shirt and pull it over your head, deciding to stop the turntable and place the record back into his collection. You take another look around the room, overcome with emotion as you look at the young faces on the posters and in the photos hanging on the walls.

Twenty minutes later you’re notified that your Uber is outside, and a pang of sadness washes over you. You know you have to leave but part of you wants to stay. To get back in bed with Jake in hopes of a round two, to see his morning face and hear the raspiness of his voice, but you can’t. You decide to leave with the memories and your rose, watching his house pass by the windows as the car pulls out of his driveway.

Your mind is swirling with thoughts of last night, the way he felt, the way he tasted. You scroll through the photos of the two of you at the bar, feeling a weight settle on your shoulders as you realize you will likely never see him again. In an effort to lift your spirits you pull up your group chat with your friends, forgetting that you sent them the photo of the two of you last night. You never thought to check their replies, feeling so caught up in your time with Jake that it never crossed your mind.

You’re instantly reduced to laughter as you read their desperate replies, catapulting you back twenty years when you all wished to run into him at a bar by chance. You sent a few laughing emojis and gave them all a quick run down of the night, finishing off your message with a picture of the white rose on the nightstand.

Their reactions were exactly as you expected, complete panic and begging for every single detail.

—

As you make your way through airport security you deposit your things into the large plastic bins, walking through the metal detector and out again, grabbing your bag and shoes from the end of the conveyor belt.

It’s a short walk to your gate, your flight home seeming daunting after the night you’d had. It had been a few hours now and still you couldn’t shake the thoughts of him from your mind. You knew you should be happy for that one perfect night with him, but you felt something with him. Something you hadn’t felt in years. Something different.

You take a seat at your boarding gate, letting out a sigh as you settle into the stiff airport chair. You can still smell the remnant of his cologne on your body, and you can almost feel his lips on your neck. A swirling feeling takes up residence in your stomach and your skin feels warm. You decide to take your mind off of him, reaching into the front pocket of your purse for your phone, but feeling something else against your fingers instead.

As you pull the items out of your bag, you feel as if your heart might stop in your chest. A small folded piece of paper emerges from the pocket with a note written inside. A relic falls into your hand as you open it, small and black and aged from wear over the years. A guitar pick, adorned with the ‘Age of Machine’ symbol sits perfectly in your hand. You feel your eyes well with tears at the special gift, letting them flick over to the note written in his messy handwriting.

Every Jake girl needs a pick. I hope you enjoy this one from my personal collection. Might even be the last one in existence. Thank you for everything tonight, your kindness to me will never be forgotten. You’ve reignited my spark in more ways than one.

P.S. - Check your phone

Love, Jake

With your newly acquired pick in your hand you reach into your purse, pulling your phone out as quickly as possible. On the screen you see more texts from your friends, but more importantly you see a text from Jake, who not only sent those photos to himself, but added his contact information into your phone. Your thumb shakes as you open his text, nervous to see what he has sent.

9:47AM: I’m guessing you found my note and it led you here. I hope you like the pick and that you will hold on to it for me. I meant what I said in that note and here’s your proof. Thought of this last night and recorded it this morning just after you left. It’s all thanks to you. Give it a listen and call me when you land. Hope to hear from you soon.

An attachment was sent along with his message, and as it opens you realize it's an audio file, but not just any audio file. It’s him, playing music the way he was always meant to.

JakeSoloDemo.mp3

As you listen to the track you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. You’d brought him out of his shell, and all it took was a few encouraging words and letting him know that people still cared. You read over his message again and again, debating whether or not to text him back now, or wait to call him when you landed like he asked, but either way he wanted to hear from you, and the promise of the conversation to come was enough to keep a permanent smile on your lips for the rest of time.

Sure, you may have reignited his spark, but maybe, just maybe, he reignited yours, too.

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sirjaketkiszka · 26 days

Text

Silver Springs: Chapter Four

Early 20s!Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

I know I could have loved you but you would not let me…

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Josh invites you to an impromptu lake day. You and Jake come to a mutual agreement. Kinda.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Word Count: 6,707

Warnings: 18+!!, sexual content, lying, cursing, angst, secrecy, dialogue-heavy, kissing, fingering, oral f!receiving, oral m!receiving, fast-paced, quickie, and extremely poor writing.

Disclaimer: apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

Silver Springs Masterpost

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The persistent buzzing of your phone vibrates your pillow as you blindly search for it, eyes still shut from your interrupted deep sleep. Sliding your hand beneath the plush fabric, you grab the noisy device, looking at the screen. Immediately, your eyes squeeze shut, the brightness violating and piercing in contrast to your dim room.

The time reads “6 a.m.” and the caller I.D. shows “Josh 🤍.” With a grumbled noise, you press the “answer” button, bringing the phone to your ear and letting out a deep sigh.

“Hello?”

“Mornin’, sleepy head!” Josh’s chipper voice rings through the speaker, penetrating your ear. You instinctively pull the phone away momentarily, bringing it back when he finishes his short greeting.

“Morning.” You mutter back, free hand rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you sit up, legs swinging over the edge of your bed and hovering over the carpeted floor. When you open your eyes again, you can hardly make out a coherent shape in your room, the only lighting being provided by the rising sun, still making its journey over the surrounding hills.

“Did I wake you?” He asks with faux sincerity, knowing damn well what the answer is.

“What do you think?” Sarcasm is heavily present in your question, on account of your inability to be a morning person. It’s a trait you and Josh never quite shared, despite your long-term friendship, as well as his countless attempts to convert you. While you loved experiencing the way the warm morning sun blanketed over your chilled skin, and the way hues of blush pink and pastel orange transitioned into a powder blue sky, you just loved your bed more.

“Well, I’m sorry,” His insincere apology makes you huff out a laugh and slowly shake your head, your eyes closing as you listen to him talk, “But, we’re picking you up in an hour.”

“What?” Sliding off of the bed, your feet hit the soft carpet beneath you, nearly stumbling from the quickness of your movements, “Where are we going? Who’s we?”

“The lake!” The tone of his voice makes you believe you should’ve known these plans already, and yet, you have no idea what he’s talking about, “Me, you, my brothers, and Danny are all going!”

“Did we discuss this?” You ask, beginning to pace your room as memories of the night before come flooding in. The haziness of your groggy state washes off, and you sober up, the heat creeping up your neck causing you to pull at the neckline of your shirt absently. Trying to mask the slight tremble in your voice, you clear your throat, trying to listen to Josh over the sound of your own climbing pulse.

“Not technically, no,” He chuckles, aware that he’s caught you off guard, but not for the reason he thinks, “But we did say we’re spending the summer together, so I’ll see you in an hour!” His voice trails off into silence before you can respond, and you blankly stare at the “call ended” screen for a moment longer.

Tossing your phone on the bed, you continue to pace your room, hands finding their way into the roots of your hair and tugging. Fuck! Echoes of last night’s argument shout at you; the way venom flicked off his hateful tongue, and the way honey oozed from it just moments before.

Your eyes squeeze shut, shaking away every thought pertaining to Jake. What about Josh? You thought to yourself. Based on your short conversation with him, you figure he doesn’t know about what happened last night. Confliction and pure guilt settle like a brick in your stomach, sinking into you and weighing heavily on your conscience. You hadn’t planned the events of yesterday, and ironically enough, it was in the heat of the moment.

How were you supposed to spend the day with Josh and Jake, knowing what you did? You and Jake never did come to an agreement last night, so what if he stayed true to his word and was going to tell Josh? He would forgive Jake, but you? Probably not. Jake’s his twin. You’re a girl he met not even a decade ago.

“You’ll be partnered with Josh,” The English teacher’s monotone voice pointed you in the direction of a joyous boy. His long, frizzy hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and he sported a bright smile, flashing the gap between his front teeth.

His welcoming stare was already on you, waving a hand for you to come sit next to him. The tables were set up in pairs, and he was the only one without a tablemate, so you were his by default. You walked past tables of whispering teens, taking note of how they realized you were a new student. The murmured words brought a tint to your cheeks, embarrassed by the unwanted attention.

You were already nervous about high school, but now that you were in a completely different town, you were horrified. Though, when you took a seat next to this Josh guy, you were surprisingly calm. His excited demeanor soothed your anxiety, and you whispered a short greeting, introducing yourself by your first and last name.

“I’m Joshua Kiszka, but you can just call me Josh,” He whispered back, his wide smile reaching his eyes. He held out his hand for you, and you gently took it, the two of you shaking each other’s hand before aiming your attention on the now-talking teacher.

“Why are you back here all by yourself?” You asked, leaning over to him, but your eyes stayed glued on the whiteboard.

“Teacher said I talk too much,” He responded, his body language mimicking yours. “You’re new here?” He knew the answer to that question, it seemed like everyone knew the answer to that question. When your parents said you’d be moving to a smaller town, you didn’t quite anticipate how small.

“Is it obvious?” You chuckled, pulling out your notebook and multitasking as you listened to Josh and the teacher at the front of the class.

“Well…” He trailed off, also grabbing his notebook, “I wouldn’t say obvious, but– Yeah, it’s obvious.” He stifled a laugh at his poor attempt at lying.

“Great,” You grumbled, though you didn’t know why you expected anything different. In a town with a population of barely 5,000, you knew you’d stand out. You were a new face, and everyone was so familiar with each other. You hated feeling like an outsider. A feeling you were well acquainted with.

“What if you sat with me at lunch?” He must’ve noticed the discouraged look on your face, and his question made you perk up.

“Really? Is that okay?”

“Don’t be silly, of course it’s okay!” His voice rang a little too loud, and the teacher whipped her head around to look at us, fury flaming around her pin-pointed pupils.

“That’s enough, Josh,” Her words were harsh, but it didn’t seem to phase him one bit, “Don’t make me regret seating her with you.” You flinched at her sharp tone as she turned back around, resuming her previous writing on the board.

“Won’t happen again,” Josh’s voice was serious, deeper than the voice he had been using before. You looked over at him, expecting to see a sense of shame, but instead he fought a smile, his eyes drifting to you and making you smile in return.

The racing thoughts and dread-inducing memories cause your body temperature to rise at an uncomfortable rate; your palms sweating profusely and the surrounding air suddenly becoming thick and hard to breathe. Doing your best to level your heavy breathing, you’re on autopilot as you pick out an outfit; one that covers your bathing suit, and is easy to slip in and out of. You ultimately decide a flowy, loose-fitting dress will do.

Time seems to be ticking by quickly as you finish getting ready, wrapping up your morning routine, and packing the bag you always take to the lake. Your eyes continue looking over at the clock on your bedside table, watching the minutes waste away, and the unnerving feeling in your gut only growing heavier.

“It’s never going to happen again,” Jake’s voice from last night rings in your ears, followed by the deafening pounding of your heartbeat. You’re okay with the thought of last night’s events never happening again, in fact, they should’ve never happened in the first place. So why’d you do it?

“Shut up,” You whisper to yourself, ignoring your own thoughts as you trek down the steep stairs with your bag in hand. Tossing the bag into the living room, you go into the kitchen to grab a water bottle, but regret is quick to replace guilt.

The puddle of soda has completely dried, the can is lying in the sticky syrup, and a nauseated feeling bubbles in your throat. Swallowing thickly, you step further into the kitchen, kneeling beside the mess to pick up the can. You stand up, setting the can on the counter, and flickers of last night invade your mind.

The counter– where he caged you in, his fingers gripping the back of your neck as his other hand–

No.

His watchful eyes as he encouraged you to look at him, and the warm, delicious feeling that pooled in your gut–

Stop.

Your hands desperately grasping at his waist and forearm, digging crescent moons into the tan skin–

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The sound of banging on your front door rips you away from the intruding thoughts, your eyes lingering on the counter before hurrying to the front door. Swinging the aged oak door open, you’re met with Josh, who’s wearing his swim shorts and an open button-up shirt. Behind him is Jake’s car; Sam and Danny are sat in the back and the passenger seat is empty, most likely for Josh.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” He points out, his interrogating eyes taking in your disheveled appearance.

“Right, sorry,” Letting out a breathless chuckle, you point over your shoulder, “My phone’s in my bag– I was in the kitchen.” You explain, scurrying to grab it and rush out the door, prompting Josh to step aside as you lock it. He steps off the porch before you, instinctively grabbing your bag and carrying it for you.

Walking to the car, you take notice of how the cool morning air nips at the tip of your nose, signaling that fall is coming soon. The sunrise is over, and bright white cartoonish clouds litter the baby blue sky. Birds chirp from the surrounding trees and the smell of dewy grass carries in the gentle breeze.

When you approach the car, Josh throws your bag into the trunk, rounds the vehicle, and takes his seat beside his twin. Jake’s eyes are set forward, but you silently beg them to look at you, and you’re not sure why. Opening the back door, Sam steps out, making you take the middle seat in between him and Danny. Great.

“M’lady,” Sam acknowledges you with a terrible English accent, holding his hand out to let you slide into the car.

“Why, thank you, kind sir,” You answer back in an equally terrible English accent, earning a quiet laugh from him. You whisper a greeting to Danny, who just smiles and makes himself as small as possible, allowing you enough room between the two taller boys.

“Everyone ready?” Josh asks, twisting in the passenger seat and looking between the three of you.

“Yep!” The three of you simultaneously answer, and Josh claps Jake’s bare shoulder.

“You heard ‘em,” His words prompt Jake to turn the car back on without him uttering a word, and you notice the way the rearview mirror is perfectly eye-level with him. His gaze flashes in the rectangular mirror, catching yours for a moment before focusing on the road again. Peeling off the curb, he drives in the direction of the nearest lake, where most Frankenmuth residents spend the majority of their summer.

The drive is short, only twenty minutes, and the scenery on the way is breathtaking. Small bavarian-style buildings fade into lanky trees that tower over the passing cars, taking residence along the edge of the two-lane road. While you’ve lived here for quite some time now, you would never quite get used to Frankenmuth’s beauty. The town’s character grew accustomed to you, and the resentment you once held for your parents slowly melted away. Josh was, and still is, a huge part of that.

It isn’t long before the lake is in view; the rising sun glistens over the soft ripples of water, reflecting off of any nearby surfaces and lighting up the surrounding area. Since it’s still relatively early, there is no one else in sight and we’re the only ones in the lake’s parking lot. As soon as Jake puts the car in park, we file out of the vehicle and quickly grab our bags from the trunk.

Danny and Sam rush to the sandy shore, claiming a spot near the dock, where they plan to jump off any second now. Holding your bag again, you and Josh take your time walking to the lake, the grass transitioning to rough sand underneath your sandals. Jake lingers behind you two, his eyes fixed on the ground he walks on.

You fight the urge to look at him; the way his shirt is bunched at his shoulders, creating a mock-tank top. He and Josh are wearing similar swim trunks with vertical stripes, but different color schemes. Josh wears shorts with black and white stripes while Jake is sporting a multi-color pair, though you would think they’d wear the opposite considering their opposing aesthetics and overall personalities.

Josh sets both his and your bag beside Sam and Danny’s, walking over to the nearest shared beach chairs and dragging them to your setup. For a moment, you and Jake are left alone, and every nerve in your body screams at you to say something– anything– to him. There is nothing to say, though. You both agreed that last night was a mistake. An accident. It was never going to happen again. Jesus, did you have to repeat it so many times like it was hard to remember? Or is that not what you want? Shut up.

“You okay?” Josh’s concerned voice pulls you from your unwanted thoughts once again, and his brows scrunch in worry.

“Um, yeah, sorry,” You rush out, frowning to yourself and catching a glimpse of Jake, who glances over at you while setting up another beach chair nearby. As always, he’s unreadable, his brows in a permanent furrow, as if he’s deep in thought, but never any that you can decipher.

“Last one in is a rotten egg?” Josh asks, his voice cheerful as he tangles himself out of his shirt. Before you can respond, he’s booking it for the lengthy dock, his legs carrying him at an alarming speed.

“Wait! That’s not fair!” You yell back, your hands desperately pulling at the fabric of your dress. When you’ve stripped down to your bathing suit, you sprint to catch up to Josh and run past Jake, whose head slowly turns in the direction of where you run. Not bothering to spare him a glance, you watch as Josh makes it to the edge of the dock, and looks back at you, laughing when he sees how much distance there is between the two of you. “You cheated!”

“I certainly did n– Agh!” His voice is cut off by the sheer force of you tackling him into the lake, your arms wrapping around his waist as you both fall off the wooden structure. The cold water closes around you, seeping into the thick material of your bathing suit, and dousing your hair in freshwater.

The two of you rise from the water, gasping for air as you laugh at his drenched state and inevitable payback. His curly hair is weighed down, covering his features, making him violently shake his head to rid himself of the soaked strands.

“That’s what you get,” You breathe out, letting yourself float on the surface, soaking in the morning sun.

“Yeah?” His taunting voice causes you to lift your head from the water, and his devious smirk makes you swim away altogether. You leave behind splashes of cold waves in your wake as you aim for the shore, Josh not far behind you. Unsure of what his angle is, you don’t plan to find out. That is, until his hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you toward him and he immediately begins splashing you.

Wave after wave, your face is flooded with each splash, and you have no choice but to reciprocate. Although, he seems unphased as you push back weak droplets of water, and you’re sure it’s a losing battle.

“Incoming!” Sam yells from the deck, halting your movements as a giant wave engulfs Josh and pushes you away from him. When Sam bobs up from the water, he immediately wraps himself around Josh, “I’ll save you!”

Laughter bubbles from your chest as you watch the youngest and oldest Kiszka siblings wrestle in the water. Sam’s lengthy limbs hug Josh’s torso as Josh struggles to rip him off, and when he does, playful rage is fierce in his glare.

“Hey, what’s going on–” Danny appears out of nowhere, joining the pure mayhem.

“Swim away!” Sam yells to his best friend, as he darts past him and Josh chases after him. The three of them ensue in a three-person brawl involving splashing, dramatic screaming, and the sound of a hand aggressively slapping wet skin. Ouch. “OW!” Sam’s shrill voice rings through the quiet atmosphere, and you can’t help but cackle.

Your breathless laugh fades into a content sigh, and you turn to the shore, where Jake observes. His legs carry him closer to the edge of the water, where tiny waves flick and lick at the smooth pebbles beneath his feet. His swim trunks snugly hug the mid of his thigh and rest low on his hips as he roughly grabs the bottom hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head. Diverting your eyes, you still behold his impressive physique.

The faint outline of his v-line disappears just underneath the waistband of his shorts, and your eyes unintentionally rake over his visible bulge, causing your face to heat at the observation. Like his v-line, his abs are soft, flexing reflexively as his feet touch the cold water. If it were possible, you could feel your pupils double in size, and your mouth goes dry at the mere sight of him. Sensing your gawking, he locks eyes with you, a smug smirk pulling at his defined lips.

Cheeks flush with a crimson tint, you turn around, facing away from him as he descends into the water. He walks past you, a little too close for comfort, and you catch a whiff of his masculine scent; musky, woodsy, and just Jake. With a perfect view of his back, you allow yourself a moment to shamelessly admire it; droplets of water gather along his shoulder blades, soaking the ends of his long hair, and accentuating the smooth, tan skin. The tips of his hair dance and float beautifully along the surface of clear water, becoming consumed by the lake when he dunks himself further, joining his brothers.

When he stands back up, the water rushes off the curves of his shoulders in a waterfall effect, pouring down the middle of his back and flowing over his ass. Huh, nice ass.

“Let’s play Chicken Fight!” Josh yells excitedly, bouncing fluidly in the water.

“Who’s first?” Jake finally speaks, his mood slightly lifted when interacting with his brothers, and completely ignoring you.

“I’ll be the referee,” Danny calls out, raising his hand.

“Fine,” Josh pauses, considering the partners, “You and me,” He points to you, “Versus Sam and Jake.” Pointing to the two brothers, they shrug.

“Who’s on top?” You question.

“You and Jake on top first,” Josh answers without hesitation, and you groan, knowing this is his way of getting the two of you to interact. “The loser carries the winner on the next round.” So, that means you’re either going to carry Jake or he was going to carry you. You can’t decide which is worse.

“Are those the actual rules?” You ask, attitude lacing your tone.

“No idea!” He responds, blowing off your question and clapping his hands, “Okay, let’s play!”

As you’re propped on Josh’s shoulder, Jake begrudgingly balances on Sam’s shoulders, his face mirroring his own embarrassment and frustration. Sam and Josh slowly walk toward each other, waiting for Danny to initiate the game.

“This is so stupid,” You whisper to yourself.

“Agreed.” Jake’s murmur catches you off guard.

“Go!” Danny’s voice yells out, prompting Josh and Sam to step face-to-face. Without thinking, your hands immediately grip Jake’s as the both of you push against each other, attempting to throw the other off balance. Josh’s hands grip your shins, keeping you in place on his shoulders, and Sam struggles to keep hold of Jake.

You’re surprised when Jake doesn’t put up much of a fight, his rough hands weakly closing around yours and hardly resisting. The fight is short, only lasting seconds before you forcefully push Jake back, making him and Sam lose balance. The two siblings sink into the water as you and Josh rejoice, his hands coming up to high-five you.

“Next round!” Josh yells, throwing you off his shoulders without warning. You let out a surprised yelp when you hit the water, and nearly let out another one when Jake is beside you as you rise to the surface.

“Get on my shoulders,” His demanding voice surprises you, and your breath hitches. Rolling his eyes and biting back a smirk, he crouches into the water and spreads your legs, his head taking its place between them and lifting you, the buoyancy allowing him to lift you without much effort.

“Oh my,” You breathe out, your hands resting on his as they grip your knees, keeping you from falling off. Your thighs wrap around his head, his ears pressing into the pillowy flesh, and your cunt rests against the back of his neck. Maybe you are glad you won.

You’re face to face with Josh now, who’s propped on Sam’s slim shoulders, and has a determined look on his face.

“Be prepared to carry me,” He threatens, flashing a cocky smirk.

“You’re on.”

“Go!” Danny repeats, and the fighting ensues. Josh puts up a good fight, his strength making an appearance when the situation calls for it. That doesn’t intimidate you, though, as you pull out as much strength as him. Sam and Jake visibly struggle to hold the two of you on their shoulders as the friendly battle turns competitive.

You and Josh are terrible when it comes to competing. He needs to win. You need to win.

You are close to winning before you feel Jake’s hands trail up your knees, ghosting over the tops of your thighs, and gripping your inner thighs, his fingers resting just centimeters from your now-aching cunt. The feeling shocks you, a small gasp pulling into your parted lips as your core heats and your mind wanders elsewhere.

“Come on my fingers,” Jake’s husky voice echoes in your mind, and your movements falter, giving Josh the upper hand.

A single squeak exits you before you hit the water, taking Jake down with you. Below the surface, you hear the muffled cheers of Josh and Sam and feel Jake’s hands wrap around your waist, pulling you up with him. For a moment, they linger, and the two of you hold gazes, quiet breaths pushing past partially open lips.

“Next round?” Josh asks, making Jake rip his hands away from you.

“Um, I’m going to sit this one out,” You say, flustered, earning a frown from Josh.

“Why?” His voice is slightly whiny, and it makes you chuckle.

“Gonna tan,” You explain, swimming away from the group and walking up the shore. When you plop down onto the beach chair, you watch the four boys initiate another game of chicken. The feeling of Jake’s hands on your inner thighs remains, and you instinctively rub them together to rid the feeling. Damnit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Did you have fun?” Josh asks, loading your bags into the trunk.

“Of course, I did,” You respond truthfully, but your limbs carry a dull ache with them from the hours of swimming. The sun is past its peak by now, and a soft orange tint blankets itself across the horizon, motioning the nearing sunset. The afternoon heat melts into a gentle, warm breeze that covers your arms in goosebumps and causes a chill to run up your bare spine.

“You take shotgun,” Josh offers, already heading for the backseat.

“What? Why?” You follow him, talking to him through the open door.

“I was shotgun on the way here,” He shrugs.

“Josh, if this is another one of your attempts to–” You try to chew him out through a hushed whisper, being mindful of the approaching company.

“It’s not!” He throws his hands up in a defensive stance, folding himself into the backseat and settling in the middle seat. Huffing out a groan, you sit in the front, feeling the car sway as Danny and Sam sandwich Josh. You guess you could’ve just taken the seat beside Josh, but you felt obligated to take him up on his offer. Did you, or did you do so willingly?

Your extremely irritating inner monologue is interrupted by Jake’s presence as his half-naked body slides into the driver’s seat and stiffens when he notices you. Flashing a nervous smile, you reach over to buckle yourself in, your hands awkwardly fidgeting in your lap as he reaches for his seatbelt. Without a word, he starts the car and reverses out of the parking lot, his hand finding its place on the headrest behind you. Your eyes wander down his bare side, and the way his wet, tangled hair swoops over his shoulders. His bicep flexes when he pulls away from the headrest and puts the gear in “drive,” and you have to physically turn your head away to quit your ogling.

The drive is silent, each passenger wiped out from the long day, and you can hear soft snoring from the backseat. While the drive is short, they’re heavily knocked out the entire time. Within the journey, you and Jake share mutual glances; his eyes darting from the road to your bare thighs, and yours greedily soaking in his side profile, his rising and falling chest, and clenching stomach.

What am I doing? You ask yourself, your eyes peeling away from him and focusing on the approaching neighborhood. Reminders of last night’s argument play like a broken record, clouding every other thought, and yet, when you’re around Jake, they’re forgotten. You know you shouldn’t do anything with him. You even voiced it.

But when you arrive at the Kiszka house, their parents nowhere in sight, you announce that you need to freshen up, secretly hoping Jake will follow you up those damned stairs, and come knocking on the bathroom door.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, your hair is frizzy, your eyes are bloodshot from the blistering sun, and a soft red hue covers your skin.

Knock. Knock.

The quiet knocks still startle you, making you jump slightly when you hear them. Patting your hands over the lumps and bumps in your hair, your hand hesitantly hovers over the doorknob, and slowly grips it. Turning it, you open the door to reveal an eager Jake, who looks at both ends of the hall before stepping in and pulling you in by the waist.

The door quietly shuts behind the two of you, and he reaches over to lock it, his hand resting on your waist again. His fingers sink into the soft flesh as he leans in, capturing your lips in a haste kiss. Eyes fluttering close, your lips move fluidly against his, and a low moan lingers in your throat as your hands travel up his bare chest and rest on his shoulders.

When he steps forward, pushing you against the cold granite counter, you pull apart with eyes wide and parted lips.

“Are you going to tell me we shouldn’t do this?” He asks, his chest heaving and his voice on the verge of desperation.

“No,” You rush out, shaking your head fervently and strengthening your grip on his shoulders, afraid he’ll disappear.

“Good,” He whispers, leaning back in and groaning when his tongue swipes along yours, intoxicating you with his taste; minty, smokey, and addictive. He wastes no time lifting you onto the bathroom counter, the chilly surface piercing your bare skin, and legs opening to let him stand between them.

Breaking the kiss, he leaves open-mouth kisses along your jawline, traveling down to your neck, and sucking lightly, but not enough to leave any marks. Small pants exit your kiss-plump lips, blowing directly into his ear, and earning a nip on the side of your neck. Your thighs squeeze around him, and you feel his grinning teeth graze your sensitive skin.

“We have to be quick,” His words are muffled against your neck, and you nod, eyes opening and watching as his hands slide from your waist to your spread thighs. Grazing thumbs lift the flimsy fabric of your dress, and he sucks in a sharp breath when he lays eyes on your bathing suit-covered cunt, his forehead resting on your shoulder.

“Please,” Your voice is hushed, aware of the company downstairs.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth as his thumbs hook into the waistband of your bottoms, pulling them down, and making you shift to allow him to take them off completely. His breathing halts when he discards the damp material, his pupils melting into the irises when he sees your naked cunt.

“Fuck,” He grits, grazing a hand over the plush skin of your thigh, and stopping when he’s met with the warmth of your aching core. Your hips absently buck onto his hand and his eyes dart to yours, pure lust glazing over them. Gently, the tips of his fingers run along your soaking slit, and your legs spread wider in response.

Like the night before, his fingers circle your swollen clit, and you bite back a whimper, your hips writhing against the solid counter. The pads of his fingers against the bundle of nerves cause warmth to spread in your gut, sending waves of pleasure to your cunt and coating itself on the circling digits.

Moving quickly, his middle and ring finger push into your weeping entrance, your walls stretching over them, and earning a sharp gasp from you.

“J–” Your surprised exclamation is muffled by the clasping of Jake’s hand over your mouth, his wild eyes silently begging you to be quiet. His fingers work against your G-spot effortlessly and vigorously as your thighs tremble around his hips. It’s not long before you’re on the brink of orgasm, your heavy breathing causing your chest to heave and nostrils to flare.

The walls of your cunt pulse around his fingers, signaling your near release. You’re almost there, the blistering heat in your gut rushing to your core, before he pulls his fingers out swiftly. Your hips buck at the loss of contact, and a muffled cry vibrates against his palm.

“Want to taste you come on my tongue,” He says lowly, his hand still keeping you quiet, “Can you be quiet?” He asks, looking at his hand then at you, and you slowly nod, unsure if you actually can be.

Your eyes follow him as he kneels in front of you, his head level with your soaked cunt. Holding your breath, you watch as he places both hands on your thighs, pushing them further apart and leaning in. The fabric of your dress drapes over his head, blocking your view. Before you can lift the material away, his tongue swipes along your slit, and your held breath shakily blows out.

His pointed tongue toys with your entrance, lapping up the juices that leak from your cunt. He hums at the taste, the vibrations shooting straight to your clit. Struggling to remain quiet, you bunch your dress up, exposing his position between your legs and you bite down on the fabric, holding it in place and muffling your moans in return. Looking up at you, his eyes lock with yours, your brows scrunching in pleasure as his tongue flicks on your clit. When he sucks harshly, your head throws back against the bathroom mirror, and your frustrated groan is swallowed by the bunched fabric.

Squeezing your thighs, he pulls your attention back on him, your hooded eyes falling on him as he nuzzles his sucking lips onto your cunt, pulling a whine from you. He continues the attention on your clit, and that familiar feeling returns, causing your hips to grind against his mouth. Chasing release, your hands drop into his scalp, gathering his damp hair and tugging him closer.

“Please, Jake,” His name on your muffled tongue encourages him, prompting him to suck in a pulsing pattern, his tongue alternating between flicking and sucking. Your stomach clenches, and your walls squeeze around nothing. Reaching your climax, your teeth bite down harder on the material, creating a dull ache in your jaw. Your hips sputter against him as your walls spasm and a rush of release spreads on his open tongue, soaking up every drop, and pushing into your sensitive cunt for good measure.

When he pulls away, a stretch of release and his spit connects him to you, and his shiny plump lips sport a deep shade of crimson. Your walls contract at the sight of him; your release dripping down his chin, the tip of his nose scarlet from the friction, and his hair still bunched in your clenched fists. The desire within you doesn’t fade away, regret is nowhere to be found, and you discover you need more.

As he stands up, your hands release him, but they quickly pull him in by the elastic waistband of his swim trunks. Releasing your dress from between your teeth, your lips crash onto his and you moan when you taste yourself. A noise of surprise catches in his throat as his hands come up and grip your waist once again, pulling you into him.

Nudging yourself to the edge, you push him back, and land on your feet, your dress falling back into place. Pulling away, you tug at his waistband, wanting them to come off.

“You don’t have to–” He assures you.

“I want to,” You urge, and he grins, letting you spin the two of you around and push him against the counter. Small grunts push past his plump lips as you trail open-mouth kisses along his bare chest, to his stomach, and peppering kisses along the hem of his shorts. Lowering yourself to your knees, your fingers tug at the elastic, pulling it down just enough to free his impressive erection.

Eager eyes watch as you lick your lips, your eyes widening at his bare cock as precum leaks from the tip. You hadn’t ever imagined yourself in this scenario before, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

Holding eye contact with him, one of your free hands comes up and grips the base as you flatten and run your tongue along his sensitive tip. His stomach clenches in response, a choked groan dangling in the back of his throat. Circling the tip, the faint salty taste of precum invades your tastebuds, and you hum as you enclose his tip with your lips. His hips jerk and a hand flies into your hair, his palm resting against the back of your head.

Speeding up the process, unaware of how much time you’ve already wasted, you push his member into your parted lips, your jaw falling slack as his tip grazes the back of your tongue. Restraint is present in his stature as he keeps himself from pushing his hips forward, his other hand gripping the edge of the counter. Your eyes water as you push deeper, and the fingers tangled in your hair encourage you to pull off.

His hand absentmindedly guides you up and down his member, and your cheeks hollow as you suck, pulling more rushes of precum onto your eager tongue. With every poke of his tip in the back of your throat, tears sting your furrowed eyes, and you hum to distract yourself from the nagging feeling.

Though, Jake thoroughly enjoys this as his hips sputter, and a whispered, “Fuck,” fills the otherwise silent bathroom.

“I’m gonna come,” He chokes out between held breaths, and his grip on your hair tightens as his words encourage you to go faster, sucking harshly and bobbing up and down his erection quickly. “Keep doing– Fuck– Shit!” He gasps out, slapping his hand over his mouth as spurts of hot cum coat your tongue. His stomach twitches, and his legs slightly tremble in front of you as quiet groans are muffled by his hand.

Milking his orgasm, you slowly move your head, sucking every last drop as his hand releases your hair and grips the counter, like his previous hand. The salty taste lingers on your tongue when you swallow, your gazes on each other as his hand lowers from his mouth and caresses your cheek.

Slowly rising from your position, he looks at you in awe, and his heavy breathing levels, his hand still on your cheek.

“You should go,” You break the silence, and his face falters, anger painting itself on his features.

“Are you–”

“No!” You rush out, “Not like that– We’ve been in here a while.” His shoulders visibly relax, and a smile tugs at his lips.

“You’re not going to say it shouldn’t happen again?” He teases.

“Well, I mean…” You trail off, thinking of what could happen if you continue whatever the hell this thing is, “Do we tell Josh?”

“Why? We’re just having fun.” He shrugs, bending down to pull up his shorts, “What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, right?”

“Right,” You repeat, slowly nodding, and trying to ignore the nagging feeling of faint disappointment at his answer. You’re sure the disappointment derives from the excruciating fact that you’re keeping a secret from Josh. Not just any secret either. One that could destroy the foundation of your very friendship.

“I’m going to hide out in my room,” Jake’s words pull you from your silent spiral.

Without another word, you nod, watching him exit the bathroom and rush to his room down the hall. Rummaging through your bag, you pull out the change of clothes you packed earlier and quickly put them on, not wanting to waste any more time. Your fingers roughly work through the kinks and knots in your hair as you take one last look in the mirror. Good enough.

As you rush down the stairs, Josh is sprawled out on the couch in his bathing suit, his eyes closed and mouth parted. Relief washes over you realizing he’s been asleep this whole time, and as far as you know, Sam and Danny are elsewhere; either in the garage or in the kitchen.

“Josh,” You whisper, gently judging his shoulder, “Wake up.”

“Huh?” He jolts awake, his tired eyes slightly puffy and lips smacking from his dry mouth, “How long was I out?”

“Not long,” You respond, but you’re not entirely sure yourself.

“You’re staying for dinner, right?” He asks, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Of course,” Plopping down beside him, you stretch your legs over his lap and lay back.

“Jake still upstairs?”

“Maybe– I didn’t even know he was up there,” You lie, and you’re a little surprised when it sounds genuine.

“Well, I’m glad you two got along pretty well today,” He points out as his hands rest on your shins, and that familiar guilt-ridden brick settles back into your gut. Without the presence of Jake, the weight of the situation dawns on you, and regret seeps into your pores.

“Yeah…”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Again, I am so sorry for the delay on this chapter, and I’m sorry if it seems rushed in some places. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed.

Also, please don’t hesitate to inform me of any missed warnings. Thank you!!

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Taglist:

@aflame4goinghome @peaceloveunitygvf @dilflover-4ever @hollyco @dayumclarizzel @jakesbeloved @fleetingjake @anythingforjtk @emojakekiszka @mar-rein12 @musicislove3389 @do-it-jakey-baby @jenniferkiszka @theweightofjake

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

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ficthots · 1 year

Text

Shotgun

A/N: Okay, another fic that has been 95% completed and I finally got around to wrapping up. PR relationship, drunken wedding, enemies to lovers, all the good stuff. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ content only. DNI if under 18. Smut.

Word Count: 8k+

Strengths and weaknesses make us who we are. They are the foundation of our entire beings and personalities. Concocting in a fashion that swirls around us and presents us to the outside world. Special groups can become world class athletes while others thrive in the arts, presenting world altering pieces to the public. Niche groups of writers can put pen to paper in ways never imagined before, the opposite can be said of mathematicians. Some individuals are wonderful public speakers.

Take your childhood best friend Jake for example. The man thrives on the attention when it settles to him. Putting his best self forward when in the presence of other people Yet, he still utterly despises ninety-nine percent of the general population. It’s why you two got along so well.

Also why you and his twin did not.

Your strengths? Well, they lie in solo activities. Anything that needs to be completed alone, you thrived in. Preferring not to work with others unless you absolutely had to. Even then, you weren’t going to be happy doing it. An intellectual, not an artistic bone in your body. Not understanding how he and his brothers can create literal magic in their minds and then go and perform for thousands of people.

Not being a people person was one of the main key characteristics of your personality. You had your small inner circle and that was more than enough for you. Even better that they spent most of their time away from you touring.

If you were together all the time, it would make the time spent together less exciting. Less meaningful. Sure, some people would say it was you being shy and to yourself, but you knew that wasn’t really it.

Okay, maybe just a bit.

Who could blame you though? Being in the public eye like your closest friends sounded like a nightmare. Not being able to keep any information about your private life hidden because it seemed as though someone was always watching. It sounded like hell. It was hell.

That was the life of being a celebrity though. Which is also why you strayed as far away from it as possible. Even when you went out to lunch with Jake when he was in town, it was not a rare occurrence for him to be stopped on the street for a picture or something of the like. Keeping your distance and watching from over his shoulder some few yards away was where you were most comfortable in situations like that.

He would then come back to you, exasperated because of the constant stopping for fans. Jake wasn’t as annoyed with it as he let on to believe, secretly loving when he was approached by adoring fans showering him in praise. It always earned an eye roll from you. Such an attention whore.

Just not to the extent of his twin. Josh craved it. There was hardly ever a time when he wasn’t ecstatic to discuss the intense life he led on a daily basis of being adored by fans and the like. Not to mention the annoying personality trait of needing to be best friends with any individual he was an acquaintance with.

His pursuit of reaching that level with you had been nonstop since high school when you and Jake had hit it off. It was thoroughly exhausting fighting the man as often as you had to, but it was the only way to get him to leave you alone.

He loved it. Finding it hysterical how truly annoyed you were by his sheer presence. Honestly, he wasn’t entirely aware of the actual reason why you didn’t want to be around him. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t lost sleep over it more than once.

Thinking it was just a silly game, not comprehending that you truly wanted nothing to do with him. It was frustrating. Dealing with this since high school and you truly believed he knew the main reason why, but opted to ignore it for the sake of not self reflecting. Jake on the other hand, similar to his familiar counterpart, could always guarantee a chuckle from your interactions.

Never getting into full arguments, but you had been known to raise your voice at him on a few occasions when he refused to leave your personal bubble. It was borderline anxiety inducing. Always having a few Xanax on hand for when you knew you would be having to spend more time than necessary with the boy.

Like on vacation.

Jake had invited you as soon as they had decided where they were going to be taking a weekend trip to. Given you had never been to Las Vegas, you thought it was going to be an absolute blast. Staying at an incredible resort, relaxing by the pool, occasional gambling whilst enjoying the complimentary drinks. I mean, in what world would someone turn that down?

You seriously considered it once you heard that Josh was going to be in attendance. Being trapped on a plane with him, having to do every vacation activity together, getting little to no break from the 24/7 Josh show. Way to ruin a trip.

Given how desperately you did need this getaway, biting your tongue and accepting the fact that the thorn in your side was going to be even closer than normal was what you were just going to have to deal with despite the bile burning the back of your throat at just the thought of it.

Knowing that you would at least have the reprieve of the flight out to Nevada was adding a little bounce to your step. Until he plopped himself down in the seat directly next to yours with a loud sigh echoing in the shell of your ear. Without a moment of hesitation you placed your earphones in, not wanting to give him a chance to engage, or attempt to engage, in conversation with you.

It didn’t last long. He grabbed the left one from your ear much to your dismay, giving a large grin. “Everyone got to pick one activity for the weekend. What’s yours?” Snatching the item from his fingertips and placing it back where it should’ve been the entire time, you sighed.

“Pool morning.” His eyes lit up, going to speak again, but luckily the flight attendants began their aisle explanation of rules and regulations. Smirking at the interruption, you let your head recline back onto the ridiculously uncomfortable headrest, your eyes slipped shut.

You couldn’t be one hundred percent certain of how long your eyes were closed, but it felt like two minutes later when he nudged you to gather your attention on him. A large exhale left your nose, still trying to ignore him. It only worked for so long until he began incessantly tapping your shoulder.

“What? What? What could you possibly want right now, Joshua?” You snapped, staring him dead in the eyes, but he wasn’t phased in the least by your outburst. Holding up a ziplock bag to you, he offered another large smirk. “Trail Mix?”

Josh had set himself a personal goal for the trip. By the time the wheels were up on the way home, you two were going to be fast friends. Deciding on that after having a group dinner together one night and you did everything in your power to avoid him. Whilst he and Jake chatted in his kitchen he racked his brain at the possibilities.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jake hummed in response, eyes stuck to his screen. “Why does buzz not like me?” Jake’s eyes briefly glanced at his spitting image and sighed. “Because you’re you.” Josh let the words simmer for just a brief moment.

Before giving a response, Jake continued. “It’s just a lot for her to handle. You’re on constantly and it drives her up the wall. You know how she is. More reserved than any of us and you're just elevated by ten.” Josh’s brow furrowed, leaning against the counter, shaking his head.

“Yeah no, I don’t think that’s it.” Jake’s hands shot up, deserting his task of trying to get Josh to understand why his best friend did not adore his twin like every other individual under the sun. He was going to get her to be friends, even if it was the last thing he did.

A blinding migraine is what woke you up. That and the feeling of someone's arm wrapped around your bare waist.

Blinking your eyes open slowly, you could feel whoever was next to you, breathing deep and even into the crook of your neck. The disheveled hair was tickling your cheek and jaw, hand twitching every so often as he slept.

When he began to feel you stirring, he himself was slow to get up as well. Having no clue if this person was a complete stranger or if you happened to know them pretty well, had you beyond nervous to turn around and look.

Then it hit you. Patchouli.

Eyes blowing wide open, you turned your head to see him in the same position as you. Wide eyed, shock, and confusion painted across his face. Entirely sure he was mirroring your expression as well.

Neither of you said a word to one another as you laid there. Eventually, you pulled your gaze away from him and chose to stare at the ceiling instead. “Buzz?” He finally broke the uncomfortable silence drenching the room.

Making the wrong decision to shake your head, you groaned, stilling your skull and attempting to stop the room from spinning further than it already was. “No, no. Don’t say a word.” You seethed out between gritted teeth.

He took in a sharp breath, fingers laced soundly over his comforter covered torso. His phone vibrated on the nightstand and when he grabbed it, he only showed you the message from Sam. They were all downstairs waiting on you both to join them for breakfast.

Silently getting dressed, you stepped out of the restroom to see Josh waiting patiently for you. “We do not speak a word of this. To anyone. You understand me?” His lips were pulled between his teeth, but he nodded at you. “Of course, absolutely.”

As you two took your seats at the table, all eyes were glued to you both. Trying to play it off, you pointed to the pitcher of orange juice sitting on the other end of the table by Josh. He handed it off to you, but everyone's attention had yet to leave you both.

Finally giving in, you stared down Jake. “What? What’s wrong?” His chin rested on the backs of his hands, a small knowing smirk gracing his lips, sunglasses blocking his hungover eyes. “Are we going to talk about what happened last night?”

Shrugging, your brow furrowed at his words. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What happened?” Sam snorted, sipping his coffee before responding. “Josh invited us all to watch,” your head snapped to the boy next to you, shooting daggers at him.

“You fucking pervert,” Josh’s cheeks burned crimson red at the response bit out at him. Danny finally spoke up through a bite of toast. “Like we weren’t going to watch our best friends get married.”

You perked up in his direction, looking at the paired off couples seated around the table. “Oh my god, who got married?” Josh was excited to hear the news himself. Jita’s confused gaze met your enthused one as she spoke.

“Uh, you two?” Eyes falling down to the table, you and Josh gasped at the same time, the memory slamming into you. Your hands covered your mouth as it hung wide open, staring at the man in pure shock. Slowly shaking your head, you stuttered over your words. “No-no, ther-there’s no way.”

Josh’s head fell back, swallowing thickly as his brothers erupted in laughter around the table. “How did they let that happen when we were so drunk?” You whispered out, staring at Jake for answers. He shrugged, “That’s the way most people get married, buzz.”

Letting your head fall into your hands, Josh finally spoke. “It’s fine, we’ll get it annulled and it’ll be like nothing even happened.” Nodding at his words, you shoved his phone into his hands from the resting place it had been on the table. “Now. Do it now.”

Standing from the table, he excused himself as he dialed his lawyer's number. Deciding that it was probably best to check your own phone for any inkling as to what had gone on the previous night, you checked what was buried in your purse. The screen was continuously lighting up with notifications from Instagram, Twitter, any and all social media known to man.

“Oh-oh my god,” you breathed out. Slowly lifting your head and looking at the youngest brother, you calmly asked him a question. “Samuel?” He huffed in response, spreading jam onto his toast. “Did you post the wedding on your Instagram last night?” Dropping his butter knife to the table with a loud clink echoing, everyone immediately took to Instagram.

A chorus of oh no’s, fuck’s, and holy shits were spoken by all of the table. Josh sat back in his seat and turned towards you. “There’s a problem,” you nodded, eyes never leaving Sam. “Oh, trust me, we’re well aware.” He breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Oh great, I don’t have to be the one to tell you.” Sam bit into a piece of muffin, shooting you a wink. “Happy honeymoon!” His attempt to release the tension that hung heavy on the group did not work as he had hoped.

The remainder of the trip you spent as much time away from Josh as possible, absolutely mortified about the circumstances and what had gone on. The only interaction you had with him was right after brunch when he told you his lawyer was working on it and he had made their manager aware of what was going on.

Otherwise, you had kept your distance like Josh was a plague. It hadn’t been too bad afterwards. You spent the rest of the time relaxing by the pool, enjoying great food, and before you knew it you were on the flight back home.

To face reality.

As you walked to your car, his voice echoed through the parking garage to gather your attention. Only stopping because you had to, you turned to face him and saw him jogging towards you. “So, uh, my lawyer wants to meet with us tomorrow morning. Manager will be there, too.”

Nodding in agreement, you didn’t say anything else as you loaded your luggage into your car and then yourself. He didn’t try to speak more, knowing how truly furious you were with him for this.

Knowing that this now being public information was going to make the situation that much worse to deal with. Not like it would have been if this was a normal person, no, you had to deal with the ramifications of being black out drunk and marrying a celebrity.

Awesome.

When you arrived at his home the next morning, you let yourself in, seeing a man dressed in a suit standing in his living room and the man you knew as their manager quietly chit chatting with Josh. He only offered a nervous, sheepish smile to you as you walked in and sat on his sofa.

“Alright, so what do we need to do? Sign some papers?” You spoke out first, grabbing a pen from your purse and looking at everyone expectantly. They were all nervous and you couldn’t figure out why.

The boy's manager cleared his throat and called you by your name, but you shook your head, offering your nickname instead. No one ever used your legal name, it was odd to even hear it spoken out. “Buzz, then. So, unfortunately, this is going to be a bit more,” he paused, trying to find the magic word, "more complicated than we originally assumed.”

Not responding, you only blinked slowly at him. Acknowledging the lawyer to step forward and speak, your head inclined towards him. “The annulment itself is not what complicates matters. It should only be a few months until everything is squared away based on the legal proceedings. What does make things sticky is the social aspect of this.”

His hands waved to you both, but you refused to look at Josh. He could feel your energy humming with pure anger at what was being said to you. His manager spoke up once more. “Yes, so, Sam posting this definitely made it more difficult. In order for you both to get out of this as unscathed as possible, we all discussed the options.”

Your face contorted in confusion. “Excuse me?” Everyone’s eyes settled on you. “I was not consulted for any of this. So when you say we all discussed the options, no we didn’t.” Josh’s wide eyed gaze looked at the two men standing, blankly staring at you.

Jaw setting in annoyance, you spoke again. “I don’t understand how there can be options in the first place. We get it annulled and call it a day. Wipe our hands of it. That’s the option here.” Josh cleared his throat, turning to face you from his seat.

“Buzz, listen. It affects our image. It’s one thing to actually be married, but for us to have gotten drunk in Vegas and then got married, and within seventy-two hours to get it annulled. That’s so bad,” you scoffed at him, but before you could speak they all chimed in.

“It puts a very bad image on Josh. We’re just trying to get damage control done right now. All we’re suggesting is that for the next few months, until the annulment is officially granted, you two continue to put on a facade of sorts to the public that you two are actually together.”

Unbelievable.

“And what about me?” You breathed out, staring at these men like the fucking vultures they were. His manager shrugged with a laugh. “You get to date Josh Kiszka for a few months. This will boost your image too!”

Standing up from your seat, you exploded on them. “Well, I’m not fucking dating Josh Kiszka! This is the problem with you, Josh! It’s all about you and your image. Doesn’t matter who else's life you screw up along the way as long as your image remains clean. Go fuck yourself. Let me know when I need to sign the papers.”

Storming out of his house, when you got to your car, you sat there in silence, trying to catch your breath. A scream left your throat as you continuously hit your steering wheel over and over. Admittedly, you had done some incredibly stupid things in your time, but nothing to this magnitude. No, this was truly life altering stupidity that put you here.

And you did it with the worst human imaginable. You hated yourself for letting this happen. This wasn’t like you. Getting married on a bender in Vegas? Nope. Bets were always going to be on Sam to do something like this. You? Not in a million years. With Josh? Not even in the realm of possibilities.

Yet, here you were.

Sitting in your apartment, you drowned your sorrows in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, watching Bridgerton as you sobbed about the utter mess you were in. Josh had been blowing up your phone all day, honestly you were surprised he hadn’t shown up at your door.

Ah, spoke too soon, you thought as a rumbling of knuckles on your front door drew your attention. Sniffling, you wiped your face with a stray tissue, praying it wasn’t too dirty, before walking to the door.

“I’m not in the mood right now, Josh.” Sighing as you took in the sight of who was at your door, you were overjoyed to see someone else standing there. “Well, damn good thing I’m not him then, huh?” You didn’t hesitate, throwing yourself into Jake’s embrace, continuously sobbing into his shirt.

His hands rubbed your back with a sad sigh, leading you back in towards your sofa. Sniffling as he grabbed a tissue, he wiped your tear stained cheeks that were positively swollen from the day spent in absolute waterworks. “What’s up, buzz?”

Your hands hit your thighs in exasperation, shrugging as more tears welled up. “They told me I have to date Josh until the annulment is done. I don’t want to do that, Jake.” Chin wobbling, he wiped at your falling tears again, nodding in understandment.

“I’m so stupid! How did this even happen?” He handed you the box of tissues before speaking. “First of all, you’re not stupid. You were drunk beyond belief, we all were. Second, who said you have to date Josh?” Eyes staring at the crumpled fabric in your hands, the sadness that sat on your shoulders sank further in.

“Your manager. The lawyer. Josh. They said it was to protect his image. That a drunk Vegas wedding doesn’t look good as is and then getting it annulled or having the paperwork filed a few days after is even worse. Like, they didn’t even consider me!” Your body shook harder as more tears fell, sobs escaping your throat as you laid on Jake.

A deep sigh rumbled in his chest, hand smoothing your hair down. “You’re gonna hate my response then.” Pulling back from his embrace, you shot daggers at him. “You want me to do it, too? Seriously, Jake? You know why I don’t want to be associated with him. I’m not doing it!”

His hands went up in defeat, but raked through his hair as he watched you move to the kitchen then back to the room in a nervous pace. “Buzz, listen. It’s not just Josh that’s affected. Honestly, if it was I would 100% be on your side and let you do what you wanted to do. I’m worried about you,” your brow furrowed at his words.

“Being associated with someone like us is not easy. You should see the toll it takes on Jita sometimes. It’s rough and brutal,” you cut him off, his words only aiding your reasoning. “Exactly! That’s one of the main reasons,” he didn’t let you continue, speaking over you and grabbing your hands to bring you back to sit with him.

His thumbs brushed over the skin on your wrist. “It’ll be so much worse if the annulment news gets out this quickly after what happened. Buzz, your life will be decimated. It will be horrible. It will affect your daily life, your work, everything. I want you to do this so that way it’s more sound when it does happen. Otherwise,” he shook his head as he trailed off.

With a groan, you flung yourself back onto the couch. You had never hated life more than you did right then. Grabbing your cell phone, you sent Josh a message only sending a Fine, as Jake patted your leg. “Good girl.” You kicked him in response.

A carefully drawn plan was created by everyone. Keeping public appearances at a minimum, their manager stated that only a few were necessary in the amount of time needed for it to be legally done. However, what was necessary was social media posts.

Since your…wedding, had been so publicly broadcasted, making an appearance on his social media whether by posts or stories was absolutely necessary according to them. The goal was to keep actual posts minimal, but stories more often. Which also meant that you and Josh were going to have to be spending more time together than you ever had before.

You were dreading it to put it lightly. In fact, you only wanted to crawl under your bed and hide for the rest of eternity. All you could think about was why this had to happen with him. Why not Danny? You loved Danny! Sweetest human being known to man.

Instead, you were legally bound to the person you despise most. Why must the universe laugh in your face like this? You believed you were a fairly decent person, so why you? It was that question that was on an ever repeat in your mind as you sat at a restaurant you couldn’t even afford to look through the window at.

The two of you were sitting in dreadfully uncomfortable silence. A fake engagement ring sitting on your left hand, a band on his. Waiter already having come and taken both of your orders, you didn’t know what else to do at the moment. Nibbling on a skinny breadstick, your eyes scanned the scenery around you.

People that would never give you the time of day if they were to spot you on the street filled the tables around you both. Occasional glances from the younger crowd falling over you two made you shift in your seat.

Taking notice of wandering eyes himself, he reached his hand out across the linen covered table, grabbing your hand with his. Speaking through a smile, your look of disgust made him laugh. “Can you at least try and make it look like we’re having fun? We’re married and people are looking, buzz.”

Forcing a grin onto your face, you squeezed his fingers, a hiss escaping from his teeth as he pulled his hand back. “You’re right, I am having fun!” Rolling his eyes, he expelled air from his ballooned cheeks.

“So what do you do for work, again?” He asked. You stared him down, opinion of him sinking further. “I’m an archivist. Do you know what that is?” Your smug tone had his face falling, mocking you. “Yes, I know what an archivist is. Asshole,” he mumbled, playing with the straw in his drink.

Sighing, he leaned back in his seat, eyeing you from across the table. “What’s your deal with me? Why don’t you like me? Everyone likes me. I’m Josh!” Elbows landing on the table with a clatter of plates and glasses, you began listing the reasons on your fingers.

“You’re selfish, snobby, too energetic, think you’re better than everyone else, an attention whore,” he cut you off, arms crossing over his chest. “Alright, alright, alright. I get it. But I’ll have you know I’m not any of those things.”

Your eyebrows shot up your face. “Really?” He nodded, a smirk tugging at his full lips. “Of course! There’s so much more to me.” Snorting, you pointed at the table. “If you’re not a snob or selfish then why would you bring me here? I don’t even like fish! I’m allergic to shellfish. I literally ordered the only thing that didn’t contain any fish. A fucking salad, Josh. I don’t like salad.”

Continuing with your rant, he listened to every word you said. “Not to mention that a place like this,” you waved your hands around, “is the last place I would ever want to come to. I’m more of a Chili’s girl,” his nose scrunched up in disgust. “You see! This isn’t going to work, Josh.” Catching your head in your hand, he tried to ease your spiraling mind.

“Okay, okay. I promise that next time we will go somewhere you want. I just figured that this was a good spot to get noticed and that is working. Three different people have taken pictures which I am almost 100% certain are already circling Twitter.” Your face showed your confusion because you hadn’t noticed that at all.

“I promise, next time, we will go somewhere or do something you want. Scouts honor,” he held his hand up in the salute, earning a tired laugh from you. “Ah, see! We’re already making progress. You laughed at my joke.”

Smile falling, the waiter appeared with your food right then. “Actually, I was laughing at you. Not at your joke.” He shrugged, digging into the salmon on his plate. “Still counts.”

Awkward small talk consumed the remainder of the evening. Walking to your own car that had been parked a few blocks away from the restaurant, Josh stood behind you, ensuring you got to your car safely.

Not offering a parting word, you got in your car, but Josh tapped on your window, a smile on his lips. Rolling it down, but only a crack, you tilted your head towards it. “What?” He placed a sloppy kiss on the glass, much to your dismay, but laughed right after.

“I had a great time with you, buzz. Make sure you’re at my home this weekend to make an appearance in a social media story!” He called out as you reversed out of your spot, driving off with your middle finger extended in his direction.

You weren’t a firm believer in the idea about people changing. People are the way they are, especially once in adulthood. The way someone acts by the time they’re in their early twenties, in your experience anyways, was how the person was meant to be. Which is why you were entirely confused about why Josh was growing on you.

After spending more than a few evenings at his home to appear in his stories or Instagram posts, even making it into a TikTok, you were growing more comfortable around him. Even opting to hang out without the need for posting purposes. You hadn’t even given a second thought to why you were okay with it.

It honestly started after your suggested publicity date. After having a night out at a fancy dinner, you decided to do something a tad more laid back for your date choice. However, when you realized that they wanted you to be seen out in public together, it dawned on you what to do.

The boys were still on tour, so like any normal “girlfriend” or “wife”, you flew out to spend some real good quality time with your partner. He even went the extra mile to pick you up from the airport. Your decision to keep him in the dark of what your planned outing entailed was driving him insane.

It is also why he was standing in the happiest place on earth with the largest scowl on his face you had ever seen. With your Minnie Mouse ears adorned, Mickey Mouse t-shirt, and Nuimo sticking out of your cross body bag, you were beaming from ear to ear. Walking up to Josh, you stood directly in front of him, placing a pair of ears on the frowning boy.

“No, no. Absolutely not.” Giggles fell from your parted lips as he took them off with a loud sigh. “Okay, Mr. Grumpy, what would you like to do first? Space Mountain or Autopia? I think we should do Autopia because it’s a car perfect for your frame and one you might actually be able to reach the pedals in.”

He mocked a fake laugh, walking in the direction of Space Mountain. Josh could try all he wanted to feign irritation with where you two had landed for your date, but by mid-afternoon, he was smiling more often than not.

Even indulging in a churro although it was against his dietary restrictions. You two were sitting in New Orleans Square, splitting a box of popcorn, giving your feet a rest after the incredibly long day, but your mood and spirits had never been so high around him before.

Laughter and smiles had been a regular throughout the course of the day, nearly riding every ride you could. Josh was grinning like a child after having indulged himself all day. “I can’t believe you actually bought the picture from Splash Mountain. It’s so dumb!” You spoke through laughs.

Whipping the picture out, you were cowering over, blocking yourself from the water, face contorted in fear while Josh had both hands up, the biggest smile you’d ever seen as he yelled out in excitement. As he put more popcorn in his mouth, his eyes narrowed at you.

“Why’d you pick here?” Smirking, you sipped from your novelty alien sipper cup. “For starters, I knew you’d be pissed when we walked in.” He shrugged in agreement, a light tint falling on his cheeks. “But I also knew that you would warm up after a few rides and snacks. Almost everyone does. And I picked somewhere where I knew we would be spotted.”

Sliding your phone across the tabletop, a photo of you and Josh on the teacups was circling the Twittersphere. “I think I’m starting to get the celebrity appearance thing.” Taking a bite of your salty treat, Josh eyed you in surprise.

“Well, look at you.” His gaze settles on you for just a beat too long, causing you to fidget in your seat. Looking back at your phone to get away from the uncomfortable feeling worming its way in your stomach, you spoke out. “C’mon, we have a lighting lane for Indiana Jones.”

Josh stared after you as you stood and began walking in the direction of the ride. His plan was working.

It was pissing you off to no end. You didn’t want to like Josh or be friends with him. Not since his fuck up in high school that was the root cause of all of this. So why was he growing on you?

Refusing to fall for the sweet Josh act, which you were beginning to doubt was an act at all, after your Disney day, you decided to keep contact and visits extremely limited. Only showing up at his home to appear in a quick story and then immediately leaving. Josh wasn’t a fan of this sudden change either.

Becoming downtrodden each time you rushed to leave his home after making brief appearances. Keeping conversations to a minimum. When you received a text from Josh saying one of your final dates was ready to take place, you were dreading spending an evening with him. Not excited about the confusing feelings that were happening.

Yet, here you were at a concert for the boys. Given you were as good of friends with Jake as you were, most people figured that you were constantly at concerts. Not really. Actually, you had only really seen them perform a handful of times. Now that you and Josh were married?

Of course the perfect opportunity for a sighting was going to be at a concert, supporting your fake spouse. Okay, not entirely fake because the marriage itself was technically real, but whatever. Standing off to the side of the stage, you smiled warmly at them putting their best efforts into their show.

It was hard not to notice the wandering eyes of fans falling to you and realization dawning on the crowd who you really were. Animosity towards you hadn’t been too much to deal with. Sure, there were people who truly didn’t comprehend how you and Josh were together. There had never been a mention of you before, Jake working overtime to ensure that through your friendship, and now all of a sudden this random woman is married to Josh?

Bonkers.

As their encore wrapped up, once Jake stepped off stage, you jumped in excitement, offering your happy praises of how well the show had gone tonight. Walking off with Jake, you halted as their manager’s wide eyes observed you, subtly nodding his head in the direction of who you should have been walking with.

Jake offered you a knowing smile, continuing towards his dressing room as you waited for Josh. As his curly hair bounced towards you, you offered a large smile. He knew what he was doing as an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you towards him and connecting your lips.

You froze, not expecting him to do something like that. As he retreated, his arm never left you, a smile still adorned as he turned you around and walked you towards his own room. Skin positively on fire from the encounter, your stomach was a chaotic mess of nerves.

Sitting in the general waiting area for Josh to finish getting ready to head to the hotel, you were literally sitting on the edge of your seat. You weren’t stupid, you knew why Josh kissed you right in the viewline of hundreds of fans. So, why was your mind running about the passion behind it? And why did you like it?

His curly due popped out of his door, a big grin greeting you as his wet hair dripped down his temples. “Ready to go?” Nodding with no verbal response, his hand linked with yours, escorting you down the tunnel. Your eyes were glued to the faux wedding rings adorning your hands.

Some fans waved you off in the private cars that headed in the direction of the hotel. Not muttering a word, Josh could sense the vibe was just ever so slightly different than normal. He knew you weren’t upset, but you weren’t exactly dripping with excitement either. Nervous?

It remained silent in the elevator ride up to the floor of your rooms. When he walked to his door, he finally made eye contact with you for the first time all evening. “Do you want to come inside and talk for a bit?”

Your wavering voice would give away your endless thoughts, so you just bob your head in agreement, stepping into the suite before him. Sitting on the overly large sofa for one person, Josh immediately knew something was different when you didn’t give a snide remark about that.

Finally sitting next to you, he handed you a drink from the bar. “Alright, what the hell is wrong with you? This is the longest you’ve ever been silent around me.” Sighing, you battled how to word this, but Josh beat you to it. “Was it the kiss? I’m sorry I should’ve asked you beforehand, but so many people were around I thought it was what I should do.”

Shaking your head, you felt heat creep up your neck. “No, no it’s fine. I agree, it was what should have been done. It’s just,” trailing off, his eyebrows furrowed. “It’s just what?” Deciding against telling him how you truly felt about it, you changed conversation tracks.

“Just that it was a lot of fun seeing you guys perform. Makes me realize who I’m actually married to.” He bought it. Immediately smiling brightly at your words, he relaxed into the stiff couch. “I can’t get over that. We’re married.” You both chuckled, eyes going to the wedding rings you wore.

“Do you remember the night at all?” He questioned, seeing if you had any recollection of how it came to be. Eyes going to the ceiling, you laughed as you tried to replay the fuzzy night. “I remember laughing. A lot. It was at one of those twenty-four hour chapels on the Strip. Jake was your best man, Jita was my maid of honor. Jake signed as our witness. Sam recorded the whole thing on Instagram.”

You two were erupting in laughter at the sheer stupidity of the situation. “You wanted to consummate the marriage right there in the chapel on the pew.” Josh laughed into his glass. Your jaw opened in shock, refuting the claim. “I did not!” Josh’s eyebrows raised as he recalled it. “Oh yes you did.”

Sitting there and staring into his eyes as his laughter died down, you gave a shrug. “Okay. So, what if I did? Would you have taken me right there?” He didn’t hesitate, not an inkling of nerves as his response came quickly.

“I would’ve taken you right there if we had been alone.” Swallowing thickly, in the blink of an eye Josh had ended up on top of you. Teeth hitting in a messy, hurried encounter. His tongue trying to explore every inch he could.

It moved so quickly you weren’t sure how you had ended up entirely nude in his bedroom. On your knees and hands, Josh pounding into you from behind. Hitting so deep inside of you that you were certain you were going to split in two.

Your moans were borderline murderous screams. Body being moved forward which each meet of his hips to your ass. The sounds ridiculously lude as your soaked bodies continued to join over and over.

As his cum painted your back and ass, you felt like you had run a marathon. His fingers still lightly tracing circles over your throbbing clit, instead of stopping all at once, easing you out of the pleasure that wracked your body.

Limbs turning to immediate jelly, you weren’t sure how you ended up in the shower together, going for another round. Fairly certain your body would never be able to recover again. Yet here you were, accepting him again with pleads. Years of pent up aggression with one another colliding.

Heavenly.

Well, that complicated it a bit more. What the hell was the matter with you? It was Josh for god’s sake! All you needed to do was show up for the concert, hang out with him for a few minutes, then go to your own room, and fly home the next afternoon. You couldn’t even do that right.

Because you were currently entangled in bedsheets with the boy, limbs intertwined, and you didn’t want to move. He was just so warm and soft, comfortable beyond belief. The gentle rise and fall of his chest nearly eases you back to sleep.

It was only a couple minutes later when he stirred awake, humming in content at you still being there. Arms tightening their grip on you. His deep, husky morning voice broke the gentle air, erupting your skin in goosebumps. “Morning,” his lips landed on the crown of your bedhead, trailing down to your cheek, then neck.

Easy was one way to describe it. The head of his cock breaching your entrance slowly and deeply. Lifting your leg as you remained on your side, Josh right behind you. His fingers danced on your clit, and in no time at all, you two fell apart.

Wanting to return back to the safe slumber of your life, he refused. As your eyes slid shut, they shot back open as his tongue traced your leaking hole. It was going to be a long morning. Which you didn’t really mind.

Letting Josh take you to brunch probably wasn’t the best move, but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to come up with a phony excuse as to why you couldn’t. You wanted to spend some time with him, it wasn’t a crime or anything. If anything, it only strengthened the PR relationship you were putting up!

Oh, shut up.

Even when you got home, you found yourself looking forward to hearing from Josh. He didn’t understand what the change had been or when it had actually happened, but he wasn’t complaining. If anything, he was celebrating it. You were no longer doing everything in your power to avoid him, but instead were actually reaching out to see when you could see him again.

This was the literal best case scenario for him. His yearning for you over the years had only grown stronger through all of this and what had been a silly crush on his brother's best friend was blossoming into an actual romance.

Still, you were hiding your reasoning for seeing him behind the PR aspect of this arrangement, but the more you presented it and accepted when he did, the more hopeful he was becoming. It might be silly wishes, but after having harbored these feelings for you for as long as he had been, getting this close was playing with fire.

Did anyone have any idea about this infatuation? Not in the slightest. Josh knew he had done a wonderful job of keeping it at bay. Perhaps it came off as an elementary level crush where he teased you relentlessly, but he seriously had little to no game and that was how he knew to get your attention.

Some fine tuning was most definitely needed, he would admit that.

Did the teasing that Josh relentlessly tormented you with sear into your memory and want you to second guess what you were doing? Absolutely. In fact, one night in particular would always stick out to you. A junior year pool party where Josh announced to the entire party during a truth or dare session that you had never slept with a boy let alone kissed a boy, mortified you.

You could remember the shocked faces of your friends who had all recently gone on sexual journeys that school year and were no longer at your clumsy virgin level anymore. Only having told Jake in confidence, you were horrified to discover that Josh had obtained that information and that he thought it would gain some laughter and bump him up in popularity to divulge it.

He had regretted it immediately after it left his mouth. Your vision of him forever tainted. Of course, you would never admit that was the line he had crossed, instead picking other things about him that annoyed you. Josh knew the real reason.

So, where did that leave you both? Sitting in Josh’s living room about to sign your annulment paperwork after four months of fake dating. He had called you that afternoon at work and said his lawyer had dropped them off and all that was needed was a signature from you both.

Holding the pen to paper you signed your name, handing it over to Josh and seeing him do the same. Letting out a shaky laugh with a puff of air, you eyed him. “Okay, well that nightmare is now over.” He chuckled with you, hands rubbing nervously over the tops of his thighs.

“I am sorry about all of this.” You finally broke the tension by saying. Josh knew what you meant. This had been your idea. The entire thing. Having made a bet with Jake that if you could win on a $200 bet in one go at a blackjack table, he owed you $5,000. Being as inebriated as he was, he hastily agreed. Yet, when he asked what would happen if you lost it left you fumbling for an answer. Something worth at least that monetary value, you reached your decision quickly.

“I’ll marry Josh tonight.” Everyone hooted and hollered, watching you place your bet and of course, losing on the spot. Josh immediately invited everyone to come to the chapel with you both, saying he couldn’t imagine marrying you without his family there. One Instagram livestream and twenty some odd stories later, you two were hitched.

He shrugged with a chuckle thinking back to it. “It’s a funny story we will always look back on and laugh about.” Agreeing with him and not sure what your next move was, you rose from his sofa, heading toward the front door when your name echoed in the large room.

Turning, you saw Josh cross to get to you. Colliding together, your purse fell to the floor, wrapping your arms around his neck as he crushed you to him. “Don’t go.” He spoke out. You nodded eagerly, bringing him back to you.

“I like you. A lot.” He spoke out in between kisses. Only a muffled mhm and me too escaped your throat before Josh led you to his room.

It was like answering a craving that your body was shaking to get its fill on. Like a drug you had never experienced before. Needing him in you more than the air you breathed. Filling the void that only Josh could fill.

Only Josh. That was all your mind could think of. Could handle. Even as he eyed you, laying nude in his sheets, he riddled every thought.

“Can I take you out?” You laughed, seeing him eyeing you from above you. “I’m serious! I know we kind of did this backwards, but I really do like you. I want to take you out. For real.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you grabbed his chin in your fingertips. “Promise you won’t marry me this time?” He nodded, looking at you like you were crazy.

“Absolutely. The plan is to knock you up this time.”

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