#baby kiszka

[wildbluesorbit]

The Kiszkas duel. It’s just what they do.

[devilat-thedoor]

☹️no big deal. just a happy, smiley, pretty baby living his dream☹️

[feelslikegold]

it’s just :(

[sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine]

Mirador getting tour dates without releasing a single song is so cunt

[sacredthethreadgvf]

If we had a nickel for every time Josh Kiszka showed up in someone’s dating profile, we’d have about 4. Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it’s happened 4 times now…

[hearts-hunger]

january blue || josh kiszka x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Cabin Fever Masterlist

Summary: You're sick, and Josh takes good care of you.

Pairings: Josh x Reader | Genre: fluff, h/c, sickfic | Word Count: 2k | Warnings: none!

A/N: Here's another one of those self-serving fics that I hope you like :) Also this is lowkey an ad for Netflix's “The Greatest Night in Pop” because that was a great documentary. Anyhoopla I hope you like it! ♡

“Sweet baby, when is your birthday again?”

You pulled your blank gaze from the waiting room wall, frowning a little as you looked over at Josh. It took you a second to think of a response; the fluorescents overhead were harsh, and everything seemed unnaturally bright under them. Josh held the pen poised and ready above the intake form, waiting for you to tell him your birthdate.

The uncomfortable vinyl chair creaked when you turned towards him. “You don't know my birthday?” you asked, unsure if you should be surprised by that. You were surprised, but you were also rather disoriented, so maybe it was a normal question for an attentive boyfriend to ask.

He cracked a smile, a welcome bit of tenderness in the cold, stark doctor’s office. 

“I do,” he said. “I was only teasing.” He jotted it down along with your other details, taking care of the task for you as you sat in the waiting room together. It was sweet of him to do it and try to take your mind off things while he did, and it made the appointment seem a little less daunting.

“What are your symptoms?” he asked, writing down the ones he already knew. “Earache, sore throat, congestion?”

You nodded, covering your ear with your hand, careful of pressing too hard. “Dizziness, too. And a headache.”

“My poor baby,” he said sympathetically. He finished up the intake form. “Okay, honey. You’re all set.” He returned the clipboard to the front desk, taking your hand when he came back to sit next to you.

“What do you think?” he asked. His hair was a golden halo of soft curls, and it didn’t surprise you that even the awful atmosphere of the doctor’s office didn’t dim his warmth and cheerfulness. “Do you wanna read one of these magazines that have been here since the eighties? There’s probably some older ones if that sounds too modern.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I’m okay, thanks.”

He smiled. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

He pulled out his phone to answer a text from Danny; you rested your head on his shoulder, trying to ignore the persistent ache and the vaguely panicky feeling you always got at the doctor. 

Josh gave you a quick smooch on your forehead. You smiled.

“What was that for?” you asked.

“Danny said to give you a get-well kiss,” he said. “So there you go.”

You cuddled closer to him. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course, baby.” He pocketed his phone. “Thanks for asking me. I would have been sad to find out you went without me.”

You raised your head to look at him, a bemused smile crossing your face. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I know you don’t like the doctor, and I like to be with you for things that make you nervous, if I can. I’m glad you know you can ask me for help.”

Your smile was wobbly, then. “Aw, Joshy. I love you, you know.”

He gave you a sweet smile. “I love you too, baby. Hopefully we’ll be in and out, and then we can spend the rest of the day cuddled up on the couch. Sound good?”

“Sounds wonderful,” you said with a sigh. 

You lost track of time in the waiting room, sucked into the weird vortex of discomfort and the smell of antiseptic, but eventually your name was called. Josh went with you, and though you might have felt a little embarrassed to be a grown woman with a personal escort to the doctor, you just didn’t have the energy to care. Besides, there was nothing wrong with having Josh with you, and you were glad you didn’t have to do it alone.

He waited patiently while you got your vitals checked, making jokes about your pulse being a little high with white coat syndrome. When the nurse left you alone in the room again, he gave you a thumbs up.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he said with a sweet smile. “I bet you’re the best patient they’ve had all day.”

“I do my best,” you said. You fidgeted on the table, the paper crinkling under you. “Can we get coffee after this?”

“Sure, honey. Whatever you want.”

You gave him a teasing smile. “Whatever I want, huh? Could you strip naked right now and do the hula for me?”

He laughed, and the warm sound of it took the edge off the chill of the sterile room.

“Maybe not whatever you want,” he corrected. He stood and came over to the exam table, giving your thigh a comforting pat. “But I think I can handle coffee.”

You winced and tilted your head as you felt a sharp pain go from your ear all the way down your neck. Josh gently covered the spot with his warm hand, and you leaned into his touch.

“There’s this new documentary on Netflix,” you said, trying to distract yourself from the ache. “About the night they got the supergroup together for ‘We Are The World’.”

“I saw the trailer,” he agreed. He slowly ran his fingers over your fevered skin. “You want to watch that when we get home?”

“Sure. We can make a roster of who should be in the next version with you guys.”

He smiled. “Okay, baby. I’d like that.” A sympathetic frown tugged at his features when you grimaced again.

“I'm sorry you don't feel good, honey,” he said. “I know a jacked up ear isn't very fun.”

You breathed a laugh. “I shouldn't complain. Your whole eardrum exploded, so mine’s easy in comparison.”

He chuckled. “Are we in a competition for worst ear injury? That's kinda weird, even for us.”

You leaned your head against his, thankful for the way he comforted you and made you smile without even trying. 

He pulled back when the door handle turned, and gave your hand a squeeze before he took his seat again. The doctor gave you a quick exam, confirming an ear infection secondary to a sinus infection, and prescribed you a round of antibiotics. 

Josh got you squared away at the desk before you left, and you were content to let him do the talking as the pain started to catch up with you. He led you out to the car, getting you settled in the passenger seat before he got in himself.

“Still feel up for coffee?” he asked.

You curled up in a pitiful little ball. “Yes, please. But maybe I’ll get the Medicine Ball instead.”

He kept one hand on your thigh as he drove, and you half dozed with your hands wrapped around the wonderfully warm Starbucks cup. He ran into the store to pick up your prescription and a few other things, and though he’d promised to be quick, he was gone longer than you’d expected.

“Where did you go?” you said, an irritated, petulant tone creeping into your voice. “The Bermuda Triangle?”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said sincerely, putting the bags in the back of the Jeep. “The pharmacy line was super long. I guess I should have taken you home and come back out for your medicine.”

You softened, feeling a little guilty. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be grumpy with you when you're running around doing everything for me.”

He touched a hand to your cheek. “You don’t have to apologize, baby. I know you don't feel good. I understand if you’re grumpy.”

You held his hand and kept it pressed to your cheek for a moment. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, baby. Let’s get you home, okay?”

At home, he got your medicine and some painkillers into you before he ran you a bath. He sat on the edge of the tub, brushing your hair back from your face.

“I think you’ll feel better if you have a nap, baby,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “Do you want to eat something before you lay down?”

You shook your head. “I don’t really have an appetite.”

“I understand. I’d like you to try and eat a little something, though, just so the medicine doesn't make you sick. How about some soup?”

You looked up at him. “Can you do the spinach and rice one Jake makes?”

He nodded slowly. “Uh... yes. I think so.” You laughed when he pulled out his phone to ask his brother for the recipe.

He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Let me go get it cooking,” he said. “You enjoy your bath.”

You gratefully sank into the warm water, letting it soothe your aches until you felt all jellied and tired. Still, you were reaching the edge of your tolerance for the consistent pain; you knew the Tylenol had to be kicking in soon, but until it did, you were steadily getting more outdone with feeling so miserable. You hardly spoke when Josh came to help you out and brought you warm pajamas, and he watched you with worry as he steered you to the couch.

You winced when the pain spiked suddenly. “Oh my god, ow.”

Josh pulled back from you. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No. My stupid ear.” You gingerly pressed your hand to it, close to tears with frustration and discomfort. You looked pitifully up at him. “It hurts, Joshy.”

“I know, baby,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. What can I do?”

You shook your head, unable to think of anything, even if there was anything he could do. He just pulled you close and held you in a safe, steady hug, and it was exactly what you needed.

“My sweet baby,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry you’re hurting.”

A few tears spilled over, and you buried your face against his chest.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said in a small voice.

“Honey,” he soothed. “You’re welcome. You don't have to thank me. I wish I could do more to help.”

You hugged him tighter, resting in his warmth and closeness. “You’re perfect, Josh.”

He rested his head against yours and rocked you gently. “I love you, my sweet girl.”

When the uptick in pain finally subsided, maybe because the medicine had finally kicked in, you let yourself be settled on the couch in a nest of pillows. Josh covered you with every fuzzy blanket he could find until you were practically buried in them.

“Joshy,” you giggled. 

He smiled. “There’s that sweet laugh,” he said tenderly. “I missed it. What’s got you so tickled?”

You tried to lift your arms under the blankets. “I’m gonna be trapped in here.”

He chuckled. “It’s my master plan. Keep you wrapped up in blankets so you can never escape me.”

“I don’t want to escape you.”

“Just making sure.” He held your face in his hands and gave you kiss after kiss after kiss, each one sweet and gentle and joyful. “I love you very much, you know.”

You gave him a bashful smile. “Yeah, I know.”

You had dinner — Josh had replicated Jake’s recipe perfectly, which he insisted was thanks to his twin’s detailed instructions — and watched the documentary about the recording of ‘We Are The World’. The two of you spent a while listing people you wanted in your supergroup to play with Greta Van Fleet.

“I want Noah Kahan and Gregory Alan Isakov,” you said.

Josh nodded sagely. “I see the vision. We should get Labi Siffre too.”

“Can we go back in time and get John Denver?” you asked.

He smiled. “Yes. I’m making that executive decision. Because I want to grab the original lineup of Fairport Convention.”

“So... we’re doing a folk rock version, then?”

He hummed in agreement. “And we make friends with everybody, and it’s the number one single in the world, and it’s your favorite song that we’ve ever done.”

You laughed and cuddled against him when he pulled you close.

He ran his hand up and down your arm. “I'm glad you’re feeling a little better, honey.”

You gave a contented sigh. “Me too.”

It had started to rain when you got home, and there was still a gentle, steady drumbeat on the roof that matched the hazy blue wash against your windows. Josh held you close and told you about what they’d worked on in the studio, and before long, the warmth of his voice and the sound of the rain worked as surely as a lullaby to pull you towards sleep.

Josh brushed his thumb over your cheek. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he said softly.

You tilted your face up for a kiss, and he obliged you. He was all love and gentleness and warmth, as he always was, and you melted into his touch.

“You love me lots, don’t you?” you asked.

“Yes, baby. Lots and lots.”

“Oh good,” you said, cosy and sleepy and content in the safety of his arms. “I love you lots too.”

gvf taglist:@malany-gvf@spark-my-nature@eearevee@madneedshelp@demonrat444@josh-iamyour-mama@honeyandsweettae@mydarlingdanny@gretavandann@sacredjake@myleftsock@joshskittytickler21@hellowgoodbye@watchingovergvf2@fearfulspirit@mywaysoon@carbondancingthroughtime@caprisunsister@eraofstardustchords@sacredthefran@shesawomaninadream@serendipiti@demonrat444@wildflowerxx-x@tearsofdanny@iluvjoshkiszka@jordie-gvf-admin@demolitionndann@hi-hi-hello11@wildbluesorbit@nessie-glorpa@laneygvf @jazzyfigz @musicspeaks @amythestars @missharvestmoon @readyforthegarden

@gvfrry@ohhey1293@the-chaotic-cow@mountain-in-springtime@xserenax-13@stardustjtk @brooke-gvf@weightofdreams-gvf@jakeydoesit @hayley1623@doodle417@finestoflines@brokenbellz@bowievanfleet@s0livagant@strugglingtodoshit@s-u-t@kay-jordan@gretavanfleas@jakeyboiiiiiii@gretavansteph@gretavanbitches@myownparadise96@luverleaver@weightofdreamz@greatervanfleet@maedesculpaeusoubi@jakekiszkasbestie@pineapple-photographer@baguettejuliette@alexxavicry@levi-wants-ur-bones@carlybubs@cowboysamkiszka@dannyandthekiszkas@jordierama@slutforsteve@starshine-wagner@quartzzzzzzz@edgeofdreams@writingcold@lostoverseer@catharu77@mackalah@jaketlove@haileygvf@blacksoul-27@ur-m0ms-blog@hi-hi-hello11@wildbluesorbit @nessie-glorpa @laneygvf@madneedshelp@dreamsingxld

[runwayblues]

:)

[frozenlight-gvf]

It’s a Scream, Baby: Part Two

pairing: jake x fem!reader x danny

summary: it’s been exactly a year since the first time jake donned that mask for you the night before Halloween, but this time, being true to your favorite horror movie, he’s not alone…

warnings: (18+ MDNI) fear, brief cnc, knives, masks, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, knives, threesome, dirty talk, language, oui oui paris, threats, knives, unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), thigh riding, restraining, did i mention knives? doesn’t even start with fluff but there is aftercare!

word count: 3.5k

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! it’s finally here!!! i’m honestly baffled by how much love the first part got, and it makes me so so so happy to see people talking about my silly little fic lmao anyway i hope you guys enjoy the long-awaited sequel!

***

You sat in the bottom of your closet, keeping your breath as quiet as you could. With the clothes draped around your face, the air was hot and thick and churning with energy. You could feel the blood thrumming through your veins, and the throbbing of your heart made your head spin.

Quiet, calculated footsteps padded up the stairs. You could almost feel the heaviness of them through the floor under you. You hugged your knees closer to your chest and tried to silence the breathless rattling of your lungs.

Earlier that night, you had gotten home to a dark, cold apartment— the opposite of what you’d expected for the night before Halloween, but fitting nonetheless. All the string lights had been unplugged; even the diffuser had choked back its usual steady stream of cinnamony spice. A note on the hardwood floor simply read “Hide.”

A thud from the guest bedroom had sent you fleeing up the stairs, ducking into your closet.

The footsteps grew closer. Your hands went numb as your mind flooded with images of what was about to be done to you.

The closet door was thrown open, sending a wave of cold air through the hanging clothes that shrouded you.

Before you loomed a tall, dark figure cloaked in black. A grotesque white face stared down at your cowering shape.

You slowly stood on shaking legs, not breaking eye contact with those familiar dark voids.

“Found you,” the voice rasped, muffled by fabric and rubber.

A gloved hand wrapped itself around your throat, the rough cotton feeling invigorating against your sensitive skin.

“Found me,” you echoed, a grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

Your breath caught in your chest; you could hardly contain your excitement.

Your boyfriend, Jake, had indulged you like this a year ago to the day, but this time, he had gone all in— donning the black robes in addition to that iconic mask, instructing you to hide somewhere in the house as he stalked around to find you, knife presumably in hand.

Maybe it was the adrenaline in your blood, or the pitch darkness of the bedroom, or the hand around your neck, or the arousal clouding your head, but you felt more vulnerable than you ever had before in front of this towering figure— and you hadn’t even taken your clothes off yet.

A second gloved hand began trailing deliberately up your side, catching on your clothes as it went, exposing your bare skin inch by inch. His touch was so confident and sure; it’s as if he was claiming you with nothing but his fingers.

Your lips parted in eager anticipation as the hand made its way firmly over your breast, making you shiver. When you breathed his name, the hand around your neck tightened, making you choke on the word.

“Shut up,” the voice hissed, sending a wave of pleasure straight to your core.

With his hand still firm around your throat, he pushed you backwards into the wall, leaning in close. You could hear heavy breathing from beneath the mask. He pressed his body into yours, keeping your back flush against the wall.

“Hands,” he prompted. You obediently held out your hands in front of you, and the man took your wrists and pinned them above your head with his free hand.

You sighed as his knee was shoved between your legs, giving you the relief you hadn’t even been actively seeking. The pleasure was being freely handed to you as you moved your hips, grinding up and down his thigh.

He chuckled sinisterly, the breath escaping him in deriding bursts as he watched you take what you wanted without apology.

“Keep going, slut.”

The word made a soft moan fly from your lips; Jake wasn’t usually one to use ‘slut,’ but it sent a welcome shiver down your spine. You were a slut— grinding on a hooded figure’s thigh as he held you by your throat against a wall.

You moaned Jake’s name again, and the hand tightened.

“He’s not here.”

A grin tugged at your lips once more as your head grew deliciously dizzy. The bloodflow to your brain was now slightly restricted, but you loved that your life was being held in the hands of a man you couldn’t even see. You delighted in Jake diving so deep into this fantasy for you.

The friction against your clit was sending constant shocks of pleasure through you, and it was about to spark into something more. Your mind was clouded in a red-tinged haze as all kinds of chemicals flooded through you. But just before the feeling could overflow, he pulled his leg from out from under you, eliciting a whine from your throat.

“Pitiful,” he spat.

You stared at the white face— practically the only thing visible in the room. You could hardly even see the outline of his shoulders, and there was something in your head that prevented you from reaching out and touching him. Some sort of residual fear that slithered in the crevices of your brain, some hesitation about the fact that Jake had yet to reveal his face to you.

Out of the corner of your eye, something approached.

Your head whipped towards the movement, all thoughts silenced.

The only thing you could see was yet another white face stalking towards you.

Your heart seized. Your breath ceased. The heat of your blood froze to ice.

It hadn’t even crossed your mind— the height difference. It should have been so obvious. This man was so much taller than Jake. But your perception had been completely fogged over in the darkness. The realization shook down your spine like a chill.

The man in front of you, the man with his hands all over you, was not your boyfriend.

The figure to your left removed his mask, and you could barely make out the oh-so-familiar deepness of his eyes and his shaggy brown hair, but recognition swelled within you, crashing down as you whimpered in fear.

You tried to wriggle out of the stranger’s grip, but his body was solidly against yours, and he was gripping your wrists tight.

“Let her go,” Jake said coolly.

The man in front of you didn’t hesitate; he dropped your wrists and backed away, but not before giving you a final shove against the wall. The white face of the mask turned towards Jake. You were left trembling and numb with your hands tucked up against your chest.

Just then, the stranger pulled off his mask, and your jaw dropped. There wasn’t much to see in the darkness, but the outline of his curly hair and the apologetic smile on his face was a dead giveaway.

“Danny?”

Your voice was weak and soft, and your cheeks burned red with embarrassment for having been so scared. Your eyes were wide with confusion as your brain haltingly tried to process what just happened, eliciting a quiet chuckle from both men.

“Listen to her,” Jake said with a grin. “She sounds terrified. Her little brain must be going a million miles a minute.”

Danny stepped closer to try and comfort you, but Jake stretched out an arm to hold him back.

“She’s a big girl, Danny. She doesn’t need to be coddled. Besides, she asked for this,” Jake said, turning to you. “Didn’t you, baby?”

The fear in your blood had started to heat up into excitement. Ever since last Halloween, you had been dropping hints at maybe adding another Ghostface to the mix. You never thought Jake would actually take you up on it.

“Are you happy that Danny’s here, pretty girl?” Jake said with a smirk as his gloved hand raised to cup the side of your face. You could feel his warm breath across your cheek as he leaned in to speak softly in your ear. You nodded, your face still frozen.

The way he was handling you now made you tremble with anticipation for what’s to come. The softness of it all, the tender touches with a demeaning undertone— it all gave way to a night of being held down and marked up.

“Are you gonna be a good little whore and show Danny your pretty body?”

Before your hands could reach the hem of your shirt, you felt a prick of cold steel against your abdomen, making your muscles tense up. You looked down to see a knife glinting in Jake’s hand. Jake smirked as he watched you stutter for something to say. He cocked his head, staring into your eyes.

“I hope you know that you don’t have a choice here, darling.”

With that, after replacing his mask and making sure Danny did the same, he flicked the knife upwards, slicing up the front of your shirt.

Your breasts now exposed in the cold air, Jake took the opportunity to back away, leaving you pitifully exposed and looking desperately back and forth between the two men. Part of you wished you could make eye contact, but gazing into nothing but those unchanging, emotionless faces had you clenching your thighs together. There’s no going back now.

They looked on as you stood there, just taking their lustful stares like a good girl should. You couldn’t do anything but lean back against that wall; you weren’t going to do anything without direct instruction or force. You were entirely ready and eager to comply with whatever they wished.

Jake then lunged, moving like a shadow and attacking the rest of your clothes with his knife. There was no tenderness now; this was depraved. He dug his knife into the waistband of your jeans, pulling and tugging the blade towards him as he worked against the denim. He sawed through the tough fabric, the dull side of the knife scraping against your skin. The only sounds in the room was the tearing of clothes and Danny’s occasional chuckle as he watched on.

He left you in your panties, a cruel tease to leave you needing more. You were soaked, and you were sure that Jake and Danny could see it. Jake then pointed at the bed, the black sleeves of his robe billowing.

“Get on the bed. On your knees.”

You rushed to obey, crawling over the sheets and sitting on your knees in the center of the bed, hands between your thighs. You watched with wide eyes as both boys stripped themselves of their robes, leaving them in their boxers, black gloves, and masks. Jake sauntered over to the window, grasping the rod and twisting so that the blinds slotted open, simultaneously allowing anyone outside to see you in that state and letting in the faint moonlight and the orange glow of a nearby street lamp.

Your eyes adjusted momentarily, but the sight you were greeted with in the dim light made you even wetter. You shifted on your knees as you stared at Jake’s chest, Danny’s arms and his tattoo, and the noticeable bulge in both of their pants. Both you and your cunt were desperate.

“Is she always this obedient?” Danny asked, laughter in his voice, his head turning towards Jake as he tore his eyes from you.

“No. But I think she knows what the both of us are capable of. That it won’t end well if she tries anything.”

The two men then stalked towards the bed, and you were already squirming. Jake took his usual place behind you, and Danny kneeled a foot or two in front of you. You were aching to reach out and run your hands over his arms and chest, but you remained dreadfully still.

“Ok, pretty girl,” Jake said, slowly slithering his fingers into your hair from behind. You melted into his touch, your eyes closing as he massaged your scalp.

A sudden tug yanked you out of your bliss. Your head shot backwards, making your jaw fly open and a pitiful whimper escape you.

“You know we’re not playing nice tonight, right?”

You tried to nod, but his grip on you was too tight. With your hair firmly in his fist, he moved your head up and down. He let out a derisive chuckle as he watched your head shake “yes” by his will.

He then pushed you forward, and you caught yourself on your hands, your face right at Danny’s crotch. You could almost feel him throbbing through his boxers as he watched you look up at him with wide eyes. Jake grabbed your hips with both hands and set you up to be at just the right height for him to grind his bulge into your dripping heat.

You let out a moan as you stared up at Danny’s mask, feeling Jake rubbing into you from behind. You started to push your hips back into him.

When Danny’s fingers closed around your jaw, you sighed, never wanting him to let you go.

”Mmm,” he moaned softly, aroused from just the sight of you looking up at him. “Does that feel nice, sweetheart? He’s hardly even touching you. You want that cock?”

You whimpered a response, letting your chin rest heavy in Danny’s gloved hand.

“Or do you want this cock?”

Danny reached into his boxers with his free hand and pulled himself out. Your eyes crossed as you looked at his cock, long and thick and achingly hard.

You heard him rasp out a laugh under his mask. He clearly enjoyed your bewilderment at the sight.

“Come on… Don’t be scared of it. You want it in your mouth, right? Yeah?”

Before you could even realize what you were doing, your lips were wrapped around his tip, licking mindlessly. The endless voids of Danny’s masked eyes never left you, and a deep moan rumbled from his chest as you nudged him deeper into your mouth, into your throat.

“Fuck— god, her mouth is incredible, Jake.”

“Yeah, isn’t she pretty with a cock in her mouth?”

A sharp thrust from Jake’s hips sent you forward, gagging on Danny to the chuckles of the two men. Your panties were completely soaked through, almost transparent. Jake was showing inhuman patience, and it scared you more than the tip of the knife you now felt dragging down your spine, bobbing imperceptibly up and down with each vertebrae it passed over.

You gasped around Danny’s cock as you felt the pinpoint tip of the knife trail over your panties, teasing right down the middle of your cunt. It landed right at your clit, the slight pressure making you lose your breath. Your body flinched forward slightly, but you were already as far down on Danny as your little mouth could go— any more movement or attempts to escape the knife, and you’d suffocate.

“That’s it, honey, just let me play for a bit,” Jake taunted, gently tapping the flat of the blade against your cunt, relishing in the wet slapping sound. You could hardly breathe, but you weren’t sure if it was the fear, the adrenaline, or Danny’s cock shoved down your throat, unmoving.

You squeaked as the knife dug slightly deeper, and he flicked it so it caught the delicate fabric, decisively tearing it. Jake chuckled derisively, overjoyed at the sight of your bare pussy, dripping wet.

Your eyes shot open wide as the cold metal met your cunt, the tip of knife just barely teasing along your folds, even dipping into your entrance. Every muscle in your body tensed up, including your neck, causing your throat to tighten around Danny. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Jesus, Jake— whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. She just got so tight.”

Ignoring Danny, Jake pulled away the knife, placing it beside him on the bed, to both your and the cock in your mouth’s chagrin. His hand was shaking, as if it pained him to put the knife down. You couldn’t help but want to be impaled by that knife, not caring about any cuts you would get from having it shoved up your cunt.

“Mm-mm. Don’t wanna slice up this pretty pussy before I get to use it. As perfect as she’d look with blood dripping down those thighs, she’d be too loose if we slit her there.”

His words hadn’t even gotten the chance to spill out of your other ear before his cock had sunken deep into you, your pussy pulling him in ravenously.

Danny had begun to move his hips, giving your lungs some much-needed reprieve, as you could now gasp for air whenever he pulled out slightly, but only momentarily as he thrust back in, the tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat over and over.

Drool leaked from the corners of your lips as you sucked and licked on him eagerly. Your mouth being filled so thoroughly took the spot of any rational thought in your fuzzy brain.

A sharp thrust from Jake brought your wandering mind right back to him, where it belongs. He prodded at your g-spot, making your thighs quiver.

“Oh, you can’t cum yet, little whore. Don’t even think about it.”

You shook your head, trying to focus on pleasing the two men. Danny groaned above you.

“That’s right, princess. Shake that pesky thought out of that head of yours. Is there anything in that little girl brain of yours now? Hmm? Nothing?”

Your mind was completely blank as Jake and Danny ravaged you from both ends, picking up in intensity as their excitement grew.

“Taking me so good, slut. Fuck… good girl. Choke on it, yeah, baby…”

“That’s it, whore… yes, yes… oh, fuck, yes…”

Their gasped and moaned words overlapped and melted together, creating a perfect breeding ground for your pleasure. You sank into their words and their thrusts and their hands gripping and grabbing at you, letting them take you in every sense of the word.

“Jake, fuck, I need her pussy—“

“Shut up. Cum down her throat, she loves it.”

Danny’s head rolled back, a few inches of his throat now visible under his mask. He let out a guttural groan as his hips stuttered and he painted the back of your reddened throat.

He soon pulled out, making you choke on air as you slumped forward, your back arched and your face against the mattress as Jake was still fucking into you from behind, sending you into a realm apart from this one.

“Aw, is the whore tired? Is she all tuckered out from cock? Was it too much for her to take?” Jake said, his voice breathless and sharp with urgency.

You whimpered into the mattress. Danny stood at the front of the bed, panting as he watched your body rock back and forth with Jake’s tireless thrusts.

“Danny, lift her up— you need to see her face when she cums.”

Danny’s gloved hand sunk into the hair at the crown of your head, and he pulled your face up so he could look right into your fucked-out, thoughtless eyes, but you couldn’t see his.

“Gonna cum all over Jake’s cock, huh? Do you wish you were cumming on mine?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You could hear a blaze of jealousy in Jake’s voice. He was the one buried deep inside you, but Danny was spurring you on.

“Mmm, my cock would look so good covered in you, don’t you think?”

“Danny, I’m warning you—“

“Your pretty cum dripping down my thighs… why didn’t Jake share you earlier?”

What you didn’t see when Danny dropped your head was Jake brandishing the discarded knife, pointing it at Danny.

“Back up.”

Jake’s hips were still slapping against yours even with the knife in his hand. The tension in the air was drenching you with a sheen of sweat.

“This pussy is mine. Understand?”

Danny nodded, his hands up in surrender and a smirk spreading under his mask. Jake then gestured the knife towards your head.

“Face. Up. You should be grateful I’m not making you leave the fucking room.”

Danny once again lifted your head, making you face his mask once more. Your hair was sticking to your forehead, your lips were swollen and glistening, and your face was blood red. The band inside you wasn’t just about to snap; it was about to rip you apart from cunt to crown.

Jake was relentless. His pace was unforgiving, the fingers digging into your hips merciless. Danny’s hands pulling your hair made your eyes roll back in your head. You were nothing but a doll.

“Cum for me, baby. Show Danny whose pussy this is.”

There was nothing you could do to resist; every ounce of fight or resistance had left you the second the closet door swung open. A throaty howl tore from your chest as you imploded, screaming Jake’s name in Danny’s face as your entire body went white-hot numb; the only thing keeping you up were the hands seizing you and squeezing you. Jake kept snapping into you, sending you deeper and deeper and deeper into unbearable euphoria.

“Keep cumming, that’s it… oh, my pretty little whore, yes…”

You didn’t even feel Jake pull out. You couldn’t feel the hands grabbing your arms and flipping you onto your back. But you could see the two distorted white faces with their taunting eyes staring down at you as you faded in and out of consciousness.

Moments, seconds, minutes, or hours later— you couldn’t tell— you found yourself between two warm, sweaty bodies as they stroked and kissed you, masks long discarded on the floor of the bedroom. Hands were in your hair, on your face, your chest, your hips, your thighs; everywhere they could reach. You were being worshiped on all fronts, and it felt divine.

“You did so good for us, sweetheart. Are you alright?” Jake rasped softly in your ear, his breath sweet and soft. You nodded, lounging into their caresses.

Danny kissed your temple and spoke gently. “You sure you’re ok? Does your throat hurt at all?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Of fucking course your throat hurt. Every fiber of every muscle, every ounce of marrow in every bone in your body hurt. But you loved it.

***

TAGLIST:

@spark-my-nature @sunandthemoontwinflames @gvf23 @for-ur-love @hellowgoodbye @starcatcherchords @gretasfallingsky @jakesguitarsolo @ohgodthefeeling-gvf

[ascendingtostardust]

If you never hear from me again, this is why

[wildbluesorbit]

Big Brother & little brother❤️‍🩹

[devilat-thedoor]

❣️favorite jake fit appreciation post❣️

[feelslikegold]

josh’s competitive ass realizing he can’t be a sore loser with a fan is SENDING ME

[sammykiszkamyass]

does anyone remember him

[oliverreedmasterass]

What a beautiful day for GVF fans: Josh discussed feeling accepted and loved in a deeply personal and touching Rolling Stones article and [looks at smudged writing on hand] Jake changed all of his instagram captions to itallic font during witching hours last night

[hearts-hunger]

a sure and steady hand

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Standalone in the Cabin Fever universe

Summary: Josh comes home sick, and you take good care of him.

Pairings: Josh x Reader | Genre: fluff, sickfic | Word Count: 2k | Warnings: none!

A/N: More Josh and Baby! Thanks to everyone who shared their cuddly Josh pics today — they were my "research" for this fic :3 I hope you like it! ♡

You woke to a tangle of blankets and a very warm boyfriend. 

Propping yourself up on the pillows, you did your best not to wake him as you gently tried to disentangle yourself from him. He was snuggled so close that he was practically on top of you, and while you didn’t mind his closeness, he was awfully warm to the touch. You brushed his soft curls back from his face and weren’t surprised to see how flushed his cheeks were. 

Josh was always been a furnace, no matter the weather, and you felt that it suited him: it seemed like the light and comfort of his personality couldn’t help but show in rosy cheeks and warm, gentle hands. During the winter months, he was always happy to share a little of his warmth with you, and you’d fallen asleep in his arms the night before, thankful for the heat radiating from him as you pressed close under the covers. 

His temperature now, though, was starting to feel more like a fever. It was especially noticeable with the snow falling gently outside the window, highlighting the chill of your bedroom in your beautiful old house and the warmth of Josh’s face pressed against your neck.

You brushed your thumb over his cheek. “Joshy.”

He only cuddled closer to you. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled.

You smiled. “It’s okay, honey,” you said softly. “You need to sleep. Do you want me to call the boys and let them know?”

His expression scrunched then, and he lifted his head just enough to give you a sleepy, confused look.

“Let them know what?” he asked. His voice was gravelly, and he cleared his throat. “Am I late? What time is it?”

Without waiting for an answer, he reached over you to grab his phone from the nightstand.

“Might as well get up,” he said, giving you a wry smile. “Unless you want to try and squeeze some more sleep out of the seven minutes we have until my alarm goes off.”

You touched a hand to his back when he sat up. “Do you feel okay?”

He looked over his shoulder, a little distracted. “Yeah. Why?”

“You feel warm.” You touched your hand to the back of his neck, and a sweet little giggle bubbled out of him as he moved away from your hand.

“Quit that,” he laughed, and it quickly dissolved into a few crackly coughs. “Your fingers are freezing, baby.”

“Sorry,” you said. You sat up next to him. “I think you should stay home.”

He smiled. “Why, because you want me to stay in bed with you all day?”

You couldn’t say the thought hadn’t crossed your mind, but mostly you felt like he should stay home to rest.

“Let me take your temperature,” you said, getting out of bed to get the thermometer. He followed you to the bathroom, and you thought he was coming willingly to get his temperature checked until he started to brush his teeth. You looked around in the drawers for your thermometer gun but couldn’t find it.

“What’re you looking for?” he asked around his toothbrush.

“Thermometer,” you answered.

He rinsed his mouth out. “I don’t have a fever, baby. I told you I feel fine.”

You abandoned your search for the thermometer and put a hand to his forehead. “But you’re really warm, honey.”

“I run hot, you know that.” He pulled your hand down and kissed your palm. “I promise I feel fine, sweetheart. Thank you for worrying, but you don’t have to.”

He went to get dressed, sifting through his wardrobe for a few moments only to pick his trusty white sweatshirt and khakis. He shivered when he took his pajama shirt off and replaced it quickly with his sweatshirt.

“This house is like a meat locker,” he said, coming over to you to give you a hug. “I kinda wish I was staying home with you and snuggling all day.”

You put your arms around his neck and rested your cheek against his shoulder, watching the snow collect on the windowsill. He still felt overly warm, but you knew there was no use trying to get him to stay home. Josh was nothing if not dedicated to his work, and you knew that him admitting to wanting to stay home was a gentle reminder to you that he was still going to work but was thankful for your worry.

You kissed his cheek. “Come home if you start to feel bad, okay?” you asked. “Promise.”

“I promise, baby.” He gave you a tight squeeze. “I’ll see you after a while. I love you.”

You gave him a gentle smile. “Love you too.”

Snow continued to fall all day, piling up in a beautiful powder across your yard; you ventured out to turn on your Christmas lights when it started to get dark, and your house looked like a gingerbread house bedecked in candy and frosting at the end of your long driveway. Though the snow kept you inside most of the day, you did run to the store to stock up on cough drops, NyQuil, and Josh’s favorite tea. You made soup for dinner, knowing it would be the perfect meal for such a cold night and still convinced that Josh would need some homespun doctoring when he got home from work.

You saw you were right as soon as he came in from the car. You opened the door and meant to greet him when he came up, but he stopped at the top of the porch stairs; after a moment, he ducked his head with a harsh sneeze, and a fine dusting of snow fell from his curls with the movement.

“Goodness, bless you,” you said. "Come inside, honey. You’re covered in snow.”

“Sorry,” he croaked, his voice shot. He let you brush his jacket off on the porch before you helped him out of it, and no sooner was it off than he turned away from you to muffle a volley of congested coughs in his sleeve.

“Sorry,” he said again. He sounded terrible, and you guessed he’d probably pushed his voice to the limit trying to keep pace with the boys in the studio.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” you said gently. You hung up his jacket and were surprised to hear him give a hoarse laugh.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, unable to help a smile yourself.

He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just waiting for you to say ‘I told you so’.”

“Aw, honey.” You gave him a hug, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “I wasn’t going to say that. I’m just sorry you’re sick.”

“I should have stayed home, like you said.”

“You didn’t get a lot done?” You hated the thought that he’d gone in when he felt bad and hadn’t even gotten done the things he’d been planning on.

He lifted his head. “Actually, we did a ton,” he said. His smile was lopsided. “You should have heard me sing, baby. My voice sounded fantastic with it all hoarse and deep like this.”

“I bet it did,” you said truthfully, a little wry. Though you wished he wasn’t sick, you couldn’t deny that the raspy edge to his voice was alluring; you’d heard him sing coming off a cold before, and you’d been surprised how much you’d liked it.

You gave him a quick kiss. “But you’re going to lose your voice if you’re not careful,” you reminded him. “Which means you’re on vocal rest until I say so.”

He chuckled, and the sound was warm and gravelly. “Yes ma’am.”

You led him into the kitchen, having him sit at the table while you fixed him a bowl of soup and a mug of tea.

“Thank you,” he said, looking up at you with a glassy, exhausted, completely devoted gaze. You couldn’t stop yourself from cradling his face in your hands and giving him a gentle kiss, and you felt his smile when you did.

“What was that for?” he asked.

You brushed his curls back. “No reason. I just love you lots, that’s all.”

“Aw, baby,” he said tenderly. “I love you lots too. Thank you for taking care of me.”

It was your pleasure to take care of him, and you showed it by showering him with the affection and care he always gave you when you were sick. You put his pajamas in the dryer to warm them up; you brought him medicine; while he got a shower, you put on another kettle and set up the couch with a nest of pillows and blankets so you could watch a movie together. You wished there was more you could do, but he was a good patient and really wanted nothing more than for you to be close.

“Where are you going?” he asked when he was settled. His curls were tight and damp, his cheeks rosy, his hands wrapped around the mug to get all the warmth he could; he looked up at you pitifully, worrying you weren’t going to join him on the couch.

“Just to get into my pajamas,” you said as he bottled a few coughs in his chest. “And to get you some Vick’s. Pick out what you want to watch, okay?”

You changed into sweatpants and an old tee of Josh’s, grabbing the vapor rub and the box of tissues from the bathroom before you came back to the living room. Josh looked a little sheepish as the movie started, and you smiled at the familiar jaunty banjo tune and the voice of Kermit the Frog that started Emmet Otter’s Jug-Band Christmas.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“We can watch whatever you want,” you reminded him. “And you know I love this one anyway.”

He smiled up at you as you came close, and his cheeks took on an even deeper color as you straddled his lap.

“Um, baby...”

“Settle down, cowboy,” you said with an affectionate laugh. “I’m just putting your medicine on. Hold still.”

He was patient and pliant as you rubbed the Vick’s on his chest and neck, giving a contented little groan of relief when you massaged your fingers over his sore muscles. 

“That feels so good, baby,” he said when you pressed your fingers down the line from his neck to his shoulder.

“I'm glad it’s helping, my heart.”

He looked up at you with a dreamy smile. “Call me that again.”

You kissed him. “I love you, my heart. My sweet Joshua.”

His hands gripped your hips gently, and you both lost yourself for a few minutes until he had to pull away with stuttered breaths.

“Sorry, I — ”

He caught a sneeze in the crook of his arm and groaned. “Ugh, why does it hurt to sneeze?”

“You poor thing,” you said with a tender laugh. You climbed off of him and handed him a tissue from the box on the coffee table. “Bless you.”

“Thanks.” He sighed and pressed his free hand to his temple, warding off a headache. “I wish I didn’t feel terrible. I’d just kiss you all night if I didn’t feel like I was going to drop dead any second.”

“So dramatic,” you teased, pulling the blanket over both of you and snuggling close. “Let’s take a rain check for when you’re feeling better.”

You could tell he was tired, and you watched with mingled amusement and affection as he tried to stay awake as the movie played. He rested his head on your chest, and you played with his hair as you sang softly along with the movie — “Thus the winds of time will take us, with a sure and steady hand, when the river meets the sea.”

“I like it when you sing, baby,” he said, his voice soft and hoarse. 

You smiled. “I like singing for you, Josh.”

He cuddled closer to you, seeking warmth and comfort that you were only too happy to give.

“You know John Denver sings this song?” he asked, half asleep.

“I do,” you said. “You got me that album for Christmas last year.”

His smile was drowsy. “Maybe we should do a Christmas album with the Muppets.”

You gave a soft laugh. “Maybe you should.”

You pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and tucked it snugly around him. He snored softly as he dozed, congested and content to let his body rest and heal; you lay with him and held him, loving when he curled his arm around you to get as close as he could be.

“Thank you for taking care of me, baby,” he said just before he fell asleep. “I love you.”

You kissed his soft curls. “You’re welcome, Josh. I love you too.”   

josh taglist: @way-to-go-lad @prophetofthedune @stardustchxrds @bajabule69 @high-fidelity1 @grimm-gvf @gretnavannfleet @sunnykiszka

gvf taglist:@malany-gvf@spark-my-nature@eearevee@madneedshelp@demonrat444@josh-iamyour-mama@honeyandsweettae@mydarlingdanny@gretavandann@sacredjake@myleftsock@joshskittytickler21@hellowgoodbye@watchingovergvf2@fearfulspirit@mywaysoon@carbondancingthroughtime@caprisunsister@eraofstardustchords@sacredthefran@shesawomaninadream @serendipiti @demonrat444@wildflowerxx-x@tearsofdanny @iluvjoshkiszka @jordie-gvf-admin@demolitionndann@hi-hi-hello11@wildbluesorbit@nessie-glorpa@laneygvf

@gvfrry@ohhey1293@the-chaotic-cow@mountain-in-springtime@xserenax-13@stardustjtk @brooke-gvf@weightofdreams-gvf@jakeydoesit@gretasmokerising@hayley1623@doodle417@finestoflines@brokenbellz@bowievanfleet@s0livagant@strugglingtodoshit@s-u-t@kay-jordan@gretavanfleas@jakeyboiiiiiii@gretavansteph@gretavanbitches@myownparadise96@luverleaver@weightofdreamz@greatervanfleet@maedesculpaeusoubi@jakekiszkasbestie@pineapple-photographer@baguettejuliette@alexxavicry@levi-wants-ur-bones@carlybubs@cowboysamkiszka@dannyandthekiszkas@jordierama@slutforsteve@starshine-wagner@quartzzzzzzz@edgeofdreams@writingcold@lostoverseer@catharu77@mackalah@jaketlove @haileygvf @blacksoul-27 @ur-m0ms-blog@hi-hi-hello11@wildbluesorbit @nessie-glorpa @laneygvf@madneedshelp@dreamsingxld

[runwayblues]

oh my love :(