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gretavangroupie · 17 hours

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The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 18.0k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Oral M! Receiving, Oral F! Receiving, Protected Sex.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

HER POV

Thirteen hours.

It had been thirteen long hours since you last saw Jake, leaving your room in a hurry of flustered nerves. You were dreading it, but he was nowhere to be found this morning, not a sight or sound from him since late last night. It had been ten hours since his text, coming to you far too early in the morning for your liking. He was sorry. Of course he was sorry. The text came so early in fact, that part of you wondered if he was just arriving back to the hotel from the amp situation, or if he was tossing and turning in his bed in much the same way you were. You loaded into the van bright and early with Wes and Paul, secretly wondering where he was or if he was going to show up at all, but if you had to guess he was likely passed out in his bed five floors up.

Your market list today was short, only a few things for Josh and Sam and the noticeable absence of normal requests from Jake. You didn’t think much of it, getting what you needed before making the trek back to the venue. You took the spare second to give Ruth a quick run down and she was just as confused as you were. For once in her life she had nothing to say. She was speechless and you didn’t blame her.

She insisted you reply to Jake’s early morning text, but you couldn’t. You had no idea where to even start. You wanted to move forward and forget it ever happened, and in order to do that you needed to leave last night behind you. Right? You know that when you do see him today though, things will be tense. Maybe even a little awkward. You take solace in the fact that you will be busy the entire day, making it fairly easy to avoid him and forget about everything, you hoped.

You made your way back into the crew area, flashing your shiny laminated badge to security as you juggle the paper bags in your arms. You navigate the winding corridors of the venue hearing the sounds of rumbling bass and guitar echo through the halls, finding yourself smiling at the fact that this was a sound not many people got to experience. Jake must have made it here after all. Familiar voices laughing a few feet ahead of you snap you back to reality. You see Mia and Lyla hanging out in front of the greenroom, looking at something on one of their phones just as they spot you.

“Y/N! Hey!” Mia shouts, waving you over, “C’mere!”

You turn to head over towards them, stopping short as Lyla grabs one of the bags from your arms. “I’ll take one of those!”

“Oh, thanks!” you smile, feeling Mia place her hand on your arm.

“We just were talking a little while ago about how much fun we had with you yesterday. I know you don’t really know us that well yet, but you are welcome to hang with us whenever you want. Seriously. We want to get to know you, we need another girl on our side!”

“That’s so nice! Thank you so much, I appreciate that, really,” you answer, adjusting your grip on the bag in your hand. “I will take you up on that, yesterday was really cool.”

“Yeah, so what did you get into after we went back to the hotel?” Lyla asks, tilting her head a bit.

“Oh, I just…I went to my room and hung out for a while, went and did a little sightseeing of my own and ordered room service and fell asleep. I was pretty exhausted after walking all day,” you say, bending the truth just a touch.

“Huh, well, call us next time, hate for you to go out all alone,” Mia says, raising an eyebrow as she turns to Lyla. It almost seems as if she's waiting for you to correct her.

It strikes you as a little suspicious but you know better than to play into it. “Yeah, absolutely. But hey I have to go get this set up, they will be looking for it any second.”

“Yeah yeah, no problem, go, I know how Sam gets,” Lyla laughs, handing the bag back to you.

“Thanks again, I’ll find you two later!” you shout over your shoulder.

You rush into the greenroom, furiously arranging the food and drinks before soundcheck finishes. You want to get things set up, done, and be gone before they ever step foot in the room. Sure you told yourself you were going to be mature about things, but you weren’t going to put yourself in the line of fire. In fact, you had yet to see any of the guys today, and part of you was thankful. Trying to make awkward small talk with them was the absolute last thing you wanted to do right now.

You wipe your hands on your pants as you finish placing the drinks into the cooler, feeling your phone buzz in your back pocket.

Paul

3:43PM: Need another case of Topos and a bottle of soda water please

Fuck, where was this text an hour ago?

You

3:44PM: No problem, be back soon.

—

Two stores and thirty minutes later you are walking back to the venue, braving the cold with the case of drinks and bottle of soda water in hand. Your jacket is zipped all the way up to your neck, and still the wind is whipping right through you. You can see the venue gates a block away but the wind is making it feel like ten. Again you flash your badge to security, the burly man opening the gates to let you into the back parking lot. As you turn the corner to approach the entrance, you’re stopped in your tracks. Standing outside the doors, leaning against the brick wall is Jake. Of course.

He doesn’t see you, not yet at least. His back is turned a bit to cut the wind. Clad in only a t-shirt and his corduroy jacket, you know he is freezing. The smoke billows from his lips, whooshing away quickly as the wind whips it into the air. His lips. His perfectly pink, heart shaped lips that were all over your body last night. Kissing and biting and… No. Stop it. You try to compose yourself, gripping the items in your hands as you head toward the door, prepared to say as little as possible to him, and walk straight inside.

That of course, did not happen.

“Have any trouble finding it?” he asks, turning to meet your eyes as he rolls his smoke out between his fingers, dropping the burnt tobacco into the grass.

“Oh, um, no no, all good,” you answer nervously. Which was also a lie, you were kinda sweating finding the Topos for a second.

Your eyes catch on his jacket, your mind swirling with the memory of his cologne that lingers in its fibers. You feel a tinge of happiness in your chest at the fact he is talking to you, though, why wouldn’t he be? You didn’t do anything wrong. You watch his lips twitch a little, and you can tell that he seems almost nervous to talk to you.

“When are you ever gonna ask me for the things you want?” you ask playfully, trying to ease his anxiety. It never happened, remember?

He turns his body completely, crossing his arms over his chest as he smirks at you, “Well, the last time I texted you, you left me on read. So I figure I will just get my own things, now.”

Fuck, okay that plan backfired.

You bite your lips together and look down to the ground, unsure of what to even say to that. He drops his hands to his sides as he looks at you, and you feel your body temperature start to rise under his gaze. The wind blows his hair across his face, in turn sending the smell of his cologne barrelling past you. You feel bad for him, of course…if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t even be speaking to him right now, let alone be acting even the littlest bit flirty. You shiver a little, from the cold or the smell of his cologne, you aren’t sure.

“I need to get this inside,” you stammer, at a complete loss on how to respond to that.

He nods his head and grabs the door handle, pulling it open and gesturing for you to go, but thankfully, he doesn’t follow you.

Fuck. Okay. Okay. It’s fine. It’s totally fine.

You rush back into the green room, finding Sam and Danny playing around with a mini golf toy.

“Here you go Sam! Sorry! Had to go to two places to find the kind you like,” you smile, ripping the box open.

“My hero!” he shouts, rushing over to you and wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

You smile as he sets you down, tossing a can to Daniel, and then cracking the lid on his own. The two of them saunter back through the greenroom doors, leaving you alone to throw the rest of them into the cooler.

You pull your phone from your bag, bringing up your text thread with Jake and staring at his last message. Maybe Ruth was right, you should respond. Now especially after that, after knowing he was still beating himself up over it. You type, delete and retype your message several times before finally landing on what felt right, and even more, you really mean it.

You

4:33PM: You have nothing to apologize for, Jake.

JAKE POV

As you continue to stand outside the venue and let the wind cut you in two, you wonder if your plan to play it smooth actually worked. She didn’t fully ignore you, she didn’t cuss you out, she didn’t laugh in your face… but she did speak. Only a few words, but you’ll take what you can get. It was hard to even say those few words to her, the instant courage you had to muster to speak to her after seeing her so unexpectedly almost threw you for a loop, but somehow, your words came out smoothly, concisely, and without sounding like you were a complete buffoon.

You relax a little as you know she is inside doing her duties, and you busy yourself pacing around the back exit to keep warm. The pre-show nerves start coming about this time of day, and sometimes it feels good to step out into the blistering cold for that extra shot of adrenaline to get your blood pumping. You jump up and down, shoving your hands in your pockets as you wait just a few more minutes… wanting to avoid having to make any more awkward conversation with her than you already had.

As your hand hits your pocket, though, you feel your phone buzz. You pull it out, seeing a notification that she has finally texted you back.

Y/N

4:33PM: You have nothing to apologize for, Jake.

You read the text no less than fifteen times, smiling from ear to ear before anxiety sets in, making you think that maybe she is just being nice. But you do have something to apologize for. You were the reason for a completely failed night, a shitty end to the perfect “date”, left her pissed and unsatisfied, the absolute worst. All you’ve been able to think about all day long is how you are going to explain everything, and make it up to her. You know you can’t until after the show, but just the little bit of contact from her makes you feel like you could move mountains. Progress is progress.

You’re pacing the hallways going back and forth between backstage and the green room, keeping yourself busy before you head to jam a little with the guys.

“Hey, man. You good?” Sam asks as you’re brushing past him in a doorway. His tone is more inquisitive than normal, and the volume of his voice is the one he uses when he’s unsure, or in this case, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m good. I mean… I wasn’t, really, but I am now,” you answer, pushing your sunglasses back up on your head. You watch his eyebrows furrow at your answer, wondering if you caught onto his loaded question.

“I heard about your amp, what happened?” he asks.

“I’m not sure, something with the wiring. Had a gash in the cabinet but the harness was all damaged to shit. They’re getting a rental, though… should be here soon,” you glance at your watch to double check the time, praying that you will have enough time to check it before tonight.

“Mmm, maybe not…” Sam stops in his tracks, and turns the opposite way to go back out to the stage. “Let me take a look at it.”

You’re surprised by him, but follow his quick steps anyway. You’re close behind him as you navigate the narrow halls, passing crew and staff left and right. And of course, one of them just happens to be Y/N. Her eyes widen as she sees the two of you.

“HEY!” Sam yells at her, grabbing her by the shoulder. “Daniel told me to tell you thank you for the soda water and that he appreciates it,” Sam cheeses a giant smile at her as she cups her hand over his, still squeezing her shoulder.

“No problem at all, Sam,” she giggles. “Man, you guys are really nice, no one has ever thanked me for getting them things this much,” she narrows her eyes at you, pursing her lips into the smallest smile. Mental note, thank her extra for whatever she decides to bring you to drink tonight…

“Well I mean we’re all assholes but we at least have manners,” he replies, starting to head toward the stage again. You part ways, but just her eyes meeting yours again was enough to make your heart flutter.

Sam skips every other step as he climbs the metal stairs to the stage, making his way over to your damaged amp that has been set to the side. “Alright, let’s see…” he squats down and pulls the back off, and starts to fidget with the wiring inside. “Oh, shit, yeah. I see now…” He pulls up the flashlight on his phone as you watch him think. Suddenly he stands and runs over to your cabinet, grabbing two handfuls of tools before making his way back and dropping them by your side. He then hops over to his own setup and pulls the back off of one of his own amps, pulling a few things from it, too. What the fuck is he doing?

He returns a minute later with some of the guts of his own amp, and pieces of it that you are sure you’ve never even seen before. He kneels back down and grabs a screwdriver, going back to work.

“So, you say you’re good now, but you weren’t, right?” he asks. “You’ve been acting kinda backward lately.”

“No I haven’t,” you kick back.

His eyes quickly scan to yours as his hands work at a quick pace. “Yeah, you have. I’m not stupid.”

You sigh, knowing that he isn’t gonna give it up. “I’ve just… got some other shit going on right now, I’ll–I’ll explain it all later once I get it dealt with,” you lie. The half-assed explanation will have to do for now, there is no way you are going into detail about all the good and bad happening in your life, especially since Lyla may be giving Sam a completely different story than the one you would give him.

You watch as he effortlessly completely replaces the wire housing, splicing the old wire at the perfect spot before tightening it back into place again. “There, that should do it…”

“Does your amp not need that stuff?” you ask, leaning your hands on your knees as you watch him.

“Eh, yeah, but I think this will be okay,” he says. “Alright, fire it up!” he yells at the techs, and you take that as your cue to grab your guitar to test it out. You plug the wire in and wait for Sam to get the thumbs-up from the booth. You play a single chord, hearing it ring across the arena with near-perfection.

“Holy shit Sam, how did you do that?!” your jaw is hanging slack as you make your way back over to him. “The techs couldn’t even figure it out…”

He wipes his hands against each other and stands with his hands on his hips like a proud father. “Eh, been watching Mark for a long time, now. Youtube deep-dives, ya know. Picked up on a few things.”

“Shit, I’m impressed,” you laugh. And you really, really were.

“Yeah, ya know, sometimes finding the root of the problem is the first step in making things work out how you want them to, know what I mean?” He bumps your side with his elbow. Yep. His first question was definitely loaded.

You nod slowly. “Yeah… thanks…”

“No problem.” He walks a little closer to you, barely twisting a peg on the headstock of your guitar. “There, now you’re tuned, too.”

You glance at the stock, seeing that he was right, the little fucker. You watch as he skips down the stairs again, throwing one finger in the air above him, screaming, “Cancel the rental!”

—

You and Sam decide to wander around the empty venue for a while, checking out the view from the top row of seats, enjoying a shared blunt as time ticks by. You don’t get to spend much time with just Sam, but every now and then you find a moment like this. You’re close with Sam, in a different way than you are with Josh. He understands things differently than Josh, and for a moment as the smoke swirls through your veins you consider asking him for advice about Isla.

You know it's a dangerous game, but without the influence of Lyla you think he would answer truthfully. Passing the blunt back to him you start to speak, but are quickly interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out, seeing a name on the screen that you’d been waiting for for a few days.

“Hey, let me take this, I’ll meet you back in the green room?” you ask, hoping he will catch the drift.

His face twists up in confusion, “Huh? You never answer your phone.”

“It’s Chris. I’ve been waiting on this call. Let me grab it,” you say, flashing the screen towards him.

“Oh, oh. About your new band with your new friends that aren’t me and Josh and Daniel. That's fine, yeah yeah take the call,” he says playfully.

“Old friends Sam, and don’t be like that…” you chide.

“No, it’s totally fine, cheater, answer before he hangs up,” he smiles, elbowing you as he stands up. You tap the green icon as he starts to walk away, clearing your throat and stifling back a smile.

“Chris…” you answer.

“Jake…” he answers, a happy lilt in his tone.

“I’m guessing this means we’re doing it?”

You hear him laugh on the other end of the phone, “Oh yeah, we’re doing it.”

—

“Jake, you good?” Danny asks, standing up from his practice kit.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m feelin’ really good actually,” you answer truthfully. You stand, placing your guitar into the stand and shaking out your hands as Josh steps up towards you.

“Drink?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Followin’ you…”

You do follow him back to the greenroom, needing a drink to get your blood moving and to shake those pre show jitters. As you step over the threshold you spot Y/N sitting on a couch talking to Lyla, Ty, and Mia. You wonder for a second if she has mentioned anything about what happened last night, but from the happy look on their faces you know it’s likely they know nothing about the two of you or what transpired last night.

You walk over to the drink table, Josh already getting started on making a drink for the two of you. You laugh at his heavy handed pour, but accept it graciously. You can hear the rumble of the crowd, the opener finishing up their set this very minute. Your eyes flick over to Y/N, catching her looking at you for just a second before looking away. The feeling of her eyes on you has your chest warming up, no alcohol needed.

In all reality you were ready for this show to be over. You knew that as soon as you got the chance you were going to whisk her away to talk about last night, explain things, and hope she understood. You just had to get through this show.

You grab the drink from Josh and make your way over to the empty couch across the room, sitting at the very end and crossing your leg over your knee. You know you’ve got about thirty minutes until you need to walk, and you still need to change, but a quick drink would do you some good so you enjoy the few moments listening to Josh ramble.

Just as you start to relax you notice Y/N standing from her place on the couch and walking over towards the corner of the room. You try not to stare, knowing Mia and Lyla’s eyes are on you but you have an idea of what she may be doing, so you sit back and watch to find out.

You hear her walkie talkie chattering from across the room, the time until stage is growing smaller and smaller. As she stands back up she turns around and looks at you, letting her eyes linger on you for just a few seconds before she walks out of the room with your bottle of wine in hand. You stifle back the smile on your lips as you think about her going through your bag again. It’s strange, you’d never allowed any of the other runners to do that, but she was different. You found yourself excited at the idea of her touching your things, finding your wine and readying your drink for the stage.

You turn back to Josh who has his eyes locked on you with a knowing grin. He clears his throat and makes sure that no one is listening before he speaks, “Are you two good, then?”

You nod your head inconspicuously, sipping at the drink in your hand. “Seems that way.”

He pats his hand on your thigh harshly, “Good, go get changed. We’ve got a show to play.”

Just then, Paul ducks his head through the door looking frazzled as usual, “Boys, twenty minutes.”

Josh tilts his head to you, and you stand up heading for the dressing rooms. You quickly change into your suit and slip into your boots, ready to swipe on some eyeliner before you hit the stage. You hear your phone buzz on the countertop, and it zaps all of your attention. You are practically stumbling over your own feet to get to it, hoping to see something from Y/N, and much to your delight, it is.

‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

Oh fuck, a song.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, you want to open it immediately but you know you have to get this eyeliner on first. You grab the pencil and pull your lid down, swiping on the dark black liner, smudging it out with your finger the best you can before repeating it on the other side. All you can think about is what song she added. Will it be happy? Will it be sad? Is she telling you she doesn’t want to do this anymore? That you fucked up?

You cap the liner and toss it into your bag, running your fingers through your hair and adjusting your suit jacket in the mirror. You look good, you look really good, and you know that a spray of cologne probably wouldn’t hurt. You snatch your phone off the counter and make your way back into the greenroom, finding everyone else dressed and ready to walk.

You make your way to your backpack, crouching down in front of it searching for the small glass bottle of cologne you know is floating around at the bottom. You pull it from the bag and give yourself a generous spray. It calms you, in a way, breathing in the familiar scent. It centers you and reminds you of home.

Unable to wait a single second longer, you tap the notification on your screen bringing up the shared playlist, scrolling to the very bottom. Your heart leaps in your chest when you see her addition, and you know that you are about to play a good show because of it.

You tap the song, letting the sweet and sentimental notes of ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ by Frankie Valli ring through the air. You turn the volume up probably a little louder than it should be, but you don’t care. It’s not long before Josh notices, peering over at you from the rim of his paper cup.

“Jake, is that Frankie Valli? Holy shit, wait, do you like good music now?” he teases, throwing you a wink.

The chorus echoes through the room, Sam and Lyla obviously enjoying the song as he dances her around the room. He pops a few grapes into his mouth as they spin and you can’t help but to notice that this song alone has brightened everyone's spirits in a matter of seconds. She definitely had that effect on you, but now her magic was being cast on others. You almost wanted to thank her, and you would, tonight. With extra thanks…

You quickly pull up your texts with her, deciding to let her know you saw it without saying too much.

You

8:31PM: 😎

You know it’s risky but you don’t care. You also know the chances of her replying to that are slim, because in all honesty what do you even say to that? But she continues to surprise you, your phone buzzing in your hand before you can even put it back in your bag.

Y/N

8:32PM: 🎸

You can’t seem to shake the smile from your face and you’re glad you are still crouched down in front of your bag, because you know everyone would have a million questions the second they saw your shit-eating grin.

“Let’s go guys, time to walk!” Paul shouts, pulling your attention away from the little guitar emoji. You toss your phone in your bag and straighten out your suit, trying to get your mind back into the zone to play this show. Get through this, then you can talk to her.

Your heart is beating fast though, knowing that at the end of this hallway she is waiting for you. You know you have to play it cool, you don’t want to seem too eager. You clear your throat and fall to the back of the group, saving yourself for last.

You’re fine Jake. Just act natural, be cool.

—

HER POV

The tequila cocktail… the Topo… the spiked hot tea… and…

The shadowed figure is bringing up the rear like the tail end of a parade of sequins and sparkling material, dressed in black satin and glittering in the dim lights, hair flowing back from his shoulders as his right hand falls to his stomach as he walks. His face is contoured by the flashing lights of the stage, showcasing the smudged black eyeliner carefully but heavily painted over the eyes that were boring into you, now.

You feel your hand begin to shake on its own accord, trying not to spill the chalice of white wine that it was, in all honesty, about to drop to the floor below you. You swallow harshly as he makes his way toward you at almost slow-motion speed, his eyes dark and hollow as his presence approaches. Your hand shakily extends the cup, glancing up to him again as he bites his cheeks in, suppressing a smile that reads more like a judgment on behalf of your probably flustered state. Why are you reacting this way? This man literally gave you one of the most awkward exchanges of your night last night…

His fingertips are nearly on fire as they barely graze yours, taking the cup with a quickness.

“Good luck,” you mutter, probably barely audible over the opening orchestral.

He flips his hair out from underneath the strap of his guitar with his free hand, side-eyeing you as he walks toward the stairs to the stage. “Mmm, don’t need it, babe.” As if the pure adrenaline wasn’t already enough to knock you over, his bold act of cocky audacity steals all the breath directly from your lungs, leaving you standing with your mouth agape and your hands dropped at your sides. God damn, why is he like this?

“I don’t know… I’ve seen you with stage fright before…” you retort, suddenly feeling bold enough to joke about what happened the night prior.

“Ohhhh, is that how it’s gonna be?!” he laughs, bumping into your shoulder. “Hope you know that’s not normally how those kinds of nights go for me…” he yells back over the deafening music, avoiding eye contact with you as he takes the first sip from his wine.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Oh, it’s not, is it?”

He shakes his head a little as he begins to ascend the metal stairs. “No. Most definitely not.” Your heart is pounding out of your ribcage as his words ring through your brain, replaying the utter humiliation of last night, followed by his overwhelming acts of confidence in the past minute. “Thank you, though, seriously. For taking care of us.” He leans over the handrail of the steps, leaning down to speak closely in your ear. “But for taking care of me, especially. I plan on returning the favor, don’t worry…”

He stands back up and glides onto the stage, holding his wine up into the air as if to salute your efforts. Your mouth goes dry as you find yourself in a puddle of excited emotions. You can feel your mouth hanging open still from his words, your lips unable to close simply from hearing him say he wants to try again. It's all a conundrum, and now you’re full-on staring at him as he crosses the stage to stand with his brothers, fluffing his hair a little as he pulls a pick from the inside of his jacket, biting it between his front teeth. He turns back to you and winks, placing his own hand under his jaw, signaling for you to pick yours up off of the floor.

—--

Minutes later you’re still standing at the base of the stairs, watching as they begin their night of revelry. Jake’s amp sounds perfect again, and you can tell that his worry of finding a replacement and anxiety of it not making it on time was all for nothing. He treats the stage like it’s his second life, a place where he can release his true inner self, or, maybe, an alternate version of the man that he is. You’re not sure yet, but you have a deep feeling that you will be experiencing it, soon. The thought of that makes your insides feel like they’re blazing with hormones, watching his performance pick up and slow down with each passing second. Yeah, you know for a fact last night was a fluke. Had to be. There’s no way he can’t really actually…nevermind.

You pull your phone from your pocket, hoping that you have enough service to facetime Ruth. You don’t even bother doing the math to see if you’ll be waking her up or not, but you also know that she absolutely won’t care, if this is what she gets to wake up to. You press the green button, watching as it connects with only a little bit of blurriness from the reception.

You plaster a smile on your face as you watch her answer, realizing exactly where you are, and what you’re in the middle of doing. You can’t hear each other, but you turn the screen around, giving her a full view of the show happening from side stage. You watch her face light up, and an ‘OH MY GOD’ form on her lips. You take the time to zoom in on each member, of course, saving Jake for last. He’s the closest to you, so you don’t have to use much zoom at all for her to really see him. ‘That’s him! That’s him, isn’t it?!’ you watch her mouth. Her hand snaps up to cover the lower half of her face as you watch her squirm with excitement. ‘Last night wasn’t real, you gotta let him try again!!!’ you read her lips, and you turn the screen back to yourself.

You roll your eyes, mouthing back an enunciated, ‘I know!’

You let her watch for a few more minutes before the crappy reception disconnects you altogether, and she shoots you a quick text filled with nothing but a long string of random letters, letting you know she was fully freaking out.

Right before the end of the show, you rush back to the green room to clean up the mess of whatever is left behind, replenishing and rearranging everything that needs it. You know the crew will be coming in to collect snacks and waters before their job begins tonight, and you’ve learned to put out almost every single food item that you can, knowing that none of it will go to waste.

As you hear the encore coming to a close, you grab the four black towels waiting for you in your bag, rushing back out to side stage to hand them off to the guys. You find Paul waiting too, ready to give them encouraging back-pats of congratulations. Just like they entered, they exit the same, Jake bringing up the back as if he planned it. You’d been kind enough to hand Sam, Josh, and Danny theirs with sweet words of compliments and praise, but switched it up at the very end, tossing Jake’s towel into the air above him, forcing him to reach high and catch it in mid-air.

The sweat is pouring from his every pore, pooling on his upper lip and center of his stomach. Your mind goes to a dark place for a second, wishing you knew exactly what it would taste like if you were the one to lick it from his lips. He quickly pulls the towel across his face and stomach, finishing off by wiping the back of his neck with it. He then tosses it back in your face, and you catch the smallest breath of his scent filling your nostrils. “You can keep that, all yours,” he jokes as you pull it off your face, responding to him with a look of annoyance.

“You asshole,” you laugh, tucking the towel under your arm as you follow them all backstage. He turns around, yanking the towel back out from your grasp. You watch as he takes two ends and twists them up, wrapping the damp towel in a tight coil. Oh god, he’s not gonna…

You stop, lifting your leg and outstretching your arms in defense of your body. You just know he is about to snap it at you. “Jake, no, please don’t!” you squeal, backing away.

“Don’t worry, ‘m not gonna get you, unless you’re into that kinda thing…”

Son of a bitch, he said that fairly loudly, as you’re surrounded by his brothers, their girlfriends, the crew, your co-workers… fuck.

Your eyes widen as big as they will go as he laughs, continuing to make his way down the hall. You pick up steps again, following him in a flustered mess of confusion. “I’m gonna get Daniel, watch…”

You burst into the greenroom right behind him, the towel still tightly wound and held in his right hand. He makes his way straight for Danny, twirling the towel in the air as he approaches him.

“No, Jake! No!” Danny yells, running away and launching himself onto the couch, but not before you hear a perfectly loud snap of the towel connecting with Danny’s thigh. Danny yelps out in stinging pain as everyone else laughs, Jake taking his time to roll the towel up into his makeshift whip again. “What the fuck?!” Danny yells, trying his best to hide behind Mia. Everyone is running away from him at this point, worried they will be the next victim.

Jake makes contact with Danny’s leg again as he squeals. “That’s for not cueing me into Farewell like we practiced, you asshole!” Jake yells at Danny with a giant smile across his face.

“Leave me alone!” Danny laughs, laying all his weight onto Mia. “I forgot, okay? Fuck!” You can’t help but join in the laughter of everyone filling up the green room, watching their playful display. You feel a sudden strong warmth fill your chest, realizing you get to be a part of this, seeing it all firsthand.

Jake stops, folding the towel back into a nice neat square as he makes his way back to where you stand, handing the towel to you with both hands. “Anyway, told you you could keep this,” he reiterates as you take it from his hands, giving him another glare of petty aggravation.

“Wonderful show guys, as always!” Paul claps his hands together. “This venue has an early curfew, so get your showers and shit together, no lollygagging around, alright?” he barks, popping a pretzel into his mouth before dashing back out the door.

Sam’s the first one out the door to the showers, pulling Lyla behind him. “You guys make the afterparty plans, we’ll do whatever, we don’t care…” he yells over his shoulder as the door slams behind Lyla.

“It’s balls cold out, I know Ty’s not gonna want to go walking around in this shit. And to be honest, I don’t really want to either,” Josh says, taking a seat on the couch beside Ty. “Am I right?” he asks him.

“Yeah, fuck this cold,” Ty responds.

You try not to listen in on their conversations as you know they don’t apply to you, but you most definitely are curious to see if Jake decides to partake in their plans. You busy yourself with a giant box of various crackers to fill the time.

“Let’s just go to the hotel bar. I noticed it’s kinda secluded, not very big,” Josh suggests, earning a nod of agreement from Danny and Jake.

“Sounds good to me, make sure Dean knows,” Jake says as he pulls his drenched jacket off, hanging it on a wire hanger. Shit shit shit don’t look don’t look.

“Sounds like a plan. Hey, Y/N, you gonna join us?” Josh’s voice saying your name pulls you from your daydream of thinking about watching Jake take his jacket off again and again, causing you to perk up.

“What? Sorry…”

He laughs. “When you’re done here tonight, meet us at the hotel bar, yeah?” You watch Jake’s head snap your way out of your peripheral.

“Yeah, Y/N, join us…” Mia adds, the smallest bit of songlike quality to her voice again, just like earlier.

You push the flyaway hairs away from your face, blowing a puff of air on them as you tuck the cardboard box of crackers back into the plastic tote. “Uh, yeah, sure. If I can get everything cleaned up in time, I’ll be there…” you answer on the fly, feeling as though you can’t turn the offer down.

Jake stays silent as he picks up his backpack and heads out the door toward the showers, flashing his devious eyes at you before the door shuts behind him.

—

JAKE POV

You only had to dodge the curious eyes of a few fans as you slipped around the corners of the hotel to the bar, being the last one to arrive, like always. Josh is seated at the bar with his back to you while Danny and Sam are standing at a table off to the side with Mia and Lyla. Thankfully, the bar is empty for the most part, only a couple unsuspecting older folks closing out their tabs. You pull out the heavy mahogany chair to the right of Josh, taking a seat as the bartender approaches you.

“Hi, uh. Soda water with lime, please?” you ask, and he nods and flits away. “Where’s Ty?” you ask.

“On his way down in a few minutes. He um, he’s actually walking Y/N down…” he responds, flicking his eyes behind the two of you.

“Oh,” you respond, surprised. “Is that right?” You fold your arms across the bar top as the bartender sets your drink in front of you.

“Yeah, he actually stuck behind a little to help her clean up the green room and get everything put away,” Josh explains further.

You smile as you place your hand on his back. “You’ve got yourself a gentleman, brother. Must say.” Josh grins at your sentiment, pulling his straw between his lips.

“Most kind hearted person I know,” he says. “Speaking of, seems like you and her are on a little better terms now, since we spoke last,” Josh looks behind you again, making sure you are out of earshot from the other guys.

You huff through a breath, not sure whether or not you want to go into much detail of reliving one of the most humiliating nights of your life, thus far. But, maybe talking about it will put it in the past where it belongs. “Yeah, you could say that, I suppose. Had to fuckin’ work for it though…” you laugh through your nose.

“What does that mean?” he asks.

You swallow down a rather large drink of your soda water, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate an answer. “Let’s just say we… had a less than eventful night last night, and I… wasn’t able to…” you take a fast breath. “Too many beers, too many phone calls from my tech, too much bullshit from Isla, I just…” you clench your jaw, trying to say it all without really saying it.

But Josh nearly chokes on his drink. “Ex-fucking-scuse me? Wait, no no no…” he waves his hand in your face as he turns in his seat, running his fingers over his beard. “You seriously couldn’t…”

“That’s right Josh.” You stare straight ahead of you at the mirror behind the top shelf of liquors, finding your defeated reflection staring back at you. You glance at him in the mirror, watching him cover his face with both hands as he silent-laughed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he cries after a few seconds of laughing at your expense. “It’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not funny. It’s humiliating, and a little sad, actually,” you say flatly. “Go ahead, laugh away, get it out of your system.”

He slaps his palms across the bar top a few times as he catches his breath, trying not to laugh so loud that he causes a scene. “Fuck. Has that ever happened to you? What was…?”

“No, god dammit. It’s never happened. I was sloshed, my phone was ringing incessantly, between Isla’s name popping up on my phone and knowing the crew needed me, I just… she was perfect, man. Beautiful, confident, everything was there, except…”

“...Except… you,” he finishes your sentence.

“Yeah,” you respond with a breath. “It worked out for a few minutes, surprisingly, and fuck if it wasn’t…” you held up the A-OK sign with your fingers, popping a ‘p’ sound. “But then everything went to shit.”

“And that’s why you’re having soda water tonight?”

“Eh, yeah. Just feel like if we’re gonna have a chance to have a conversation about it all, I want to be completely present,” you admit. Suddenly you feel the presence of Danny standing behind the two of you, ordering another round for Sam and the girls. You turn your attention to him. “Speaking of… hey asshole, why the fuck are you still buying Durex condoms? You’re a grown man with money, for god’s sake, use the good shit,” you ask Danny quietly. “You’re not 15 anymore.”

For your sake, so far Danny has done a good job of keeping your secret for you after you went running to his room last night in search of protection, just in case.

“Jake, what the fuck are you talking about?” Danny asks with wide eyes, looking between you and Josh.

“Don’t worry Daniel, I’m already informed. The youngest of us is not, though, so keep your fuckin’ mouth shut to him, you hear?” Josh defends you.

“Jesus Christ, Jake. Listen, I don’t want to know what the fuck is going on with you and whoever, I’m not asking any questions,” Danny says as the bartender hands him their beers. He leans in closer, whispering between you and Josh. “But I haven’t used a fucking condom in almost a year. You had me digging in my reserve stash… it’s all I had, ok? Sorry if an XL wasn’t the size you needed…” Danny backs away, laughing with his tongue out.

“OH fuck you!” you howl back. “It was a piece of shit, just do yourself a favor and get the good kind, ok?” you whip your head back around as Danny rejoins the others.

“Anyway…” you say as you finish off your soda water. “It was a night I want to forget, honestly. But I’m gonna redeem myself. I have to. I can’t leave it like that…”

“Maybe you should turn your phone off the next time you get an opportunity, just in case…” Josh suggests, and you nod in return.

Just then you see a pair of arms wrapping around Josh’s neck, and you turn to see Ty and Y/N walking up behind you.

“Hey, guys!” Josh says. “Please join us…” he pulls out the seat next to him for Ty and stands to give Y/N his own seat, before she puts a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Thanks, Josh, but Paul, Wes and Corri are coming down, too. Dean’s coming, I’m gonna sit with them for a little while. Thank you for walking me down, Ty,” she flashes the three of you a warm smile, and you want to speak to her, but it's almost as if all the air has escaped from your lungs. She looks absolutely stunning, a little fixed up, but not too much. You can tell she looks as tired as you all do from the show, but you’d hardly know it. She has on a tight low-cut t-shirt dress with an oversized denim jacket over top, her hair a mess after being up all day. Her makeup had been re-done, and you’d be lying if you said the way her legs looked in that dress didn’t have you imagining things that were still a blurry memory from last night.

“I’ll be back later…” she says, making eye contact with you. Again, you’re at a loss for words, so you give her a sweet nod.

“I really like her,” Ty speaks up, filling the silence that has fallen over the three of you as soon as she’s gone. “You should dump Isla and go out with her, Jake.” The straw you had been chewing falls from your mouth and straight onto the floor.

“What? What did you say?” you ask him.

He shrugs one shoulder as he takes the seat next to Josh. “She’s cute. No bullshit, smart, and can obviously handle all the shit you guys have been throwing at her since she got here…”

You look to Josh, who seems just as surprised as you are.

“I dunno. I mean I like Isla, don’t get me wrong, but. There’s just something off about her, and I don’t know what it is,” he continues, and you feel Josh’s widening eyes find you, telling you he has no idea where this is coming from, either. Ty reaches his hand across Josh to sit on top of yours. He looks you directly in the eye before speaking again, “Jake, I have an excellent read on people. And I’ve never steered you wrong, have I?” he asks.

You slowly shake your head back and forth.

“That’s right. No. And I’m here to tell you, that girl likes you. A lot. She didn’t even have to say anything to me, and I can tell. She froze up when I mentioned your name earlier. And from all the time you spent on our couch the past couple of months, I know there’s something going on. Just know I’m here to talk about it if you feel like my partner here isn’t hearing you out, okay?”

You swallow hard as you take in Ty's words. He’s right, he's always been an excellent confidant for you, even letting you come to him a couple of times in the past for advice on different subjects. You love Ty just like you love your twin, and you never once have doubted his judge of character.

Josh nods slowly, agreeing with every harsh word Ty has just delivered to you. Ty pats your hand as he releases it.

“Take my advice, Jacob. I know Isla isn’t making you happy, and that girl…she just left your talkative ass completely unable to speak.” He smiles hard, turning his attention to the bartender, ordering a round of shots for everyone. You finally have a free second with Josh again.

“Guy knows what he’s talking about…” Josh suggests. “Maybe you should listen to him.”

You bite at your cheek as you nod your head. You know he’s right, of course he’s right. But you also know it’s just a little bit more complicated than that. The bartender slides you a fresh soda water, and as you pinch the lime between your fingers you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You drop the lime into the bubble water and take a quick drink as you pull your phone from your coat pocket.

Y/N

11:46PM: Not drinking tonight?

You look over your shoulder knowing she is watching you, and you catch sight of her sitting at a cocktail table a couple of feet away with Wes and Corrine. Her eyes are locked on yours, a skinny straw between her teeth. You send her a playful smirk as you turn back to your phone, replying to her message.

You

11:47PM: Not tonight, I have other plans…

You look at her as you pocket your phone, watching her face twist into a mischievous smile as she turns to look at you. You shrug your shoulders and grin before turning back to continue listening to Josh and Ty. You can feel her eyes on you and you have to admit it feels good. You feel like things might actually be okay between the two of you if you can continue to play your cards right.

“So do you wanna hit up that one place with the crazy wine list when we get to France? It was in Paris Metro, right?” Josh asks, tapping your arm with his hand.

You know the exact place he is talking about, but right now your mind is somewhere else completely. “Oh, yeah yeah, it is. It was close to that tiny ass venue, remind me and I’ll look it up tomorrow on the flight.”

“Anywhere else you want to go? I think we have a day or two off while we’re there,” he asks, still trying to grab your full attention.

“Um, maybe I’ll stop in to that rarity shop, see if they have anything interesting this time around,” you answer, doing your best to focus.

“Oh shit, yeah, that’s where you got that crazy old guitar, right? From like the early 1900’s or whatever?”

“Yeah, exactly. Had to completely unstring the fucker to get it home without it snapping in two,” you laugh, remembering the hassle.

“Any…other plans while in the city of love?” he croons, bumping shoulders with Ty.

You look over your shoulder to check your surroundings before answering. You place your hand roughly on his shoulder and shake him a bit, “I guess that will depend on tonight, now won’t it?”

The two of you laugh as you notice commotion at the end of the bar. You turn yourself to look, only to find Lyla walking towards you with her phone to her ear.

“Jake?” she says, stepping up to you in a huff. She pulls the phone away from her ear and holds it out to you. “It’s Isla, she said you aren’t answering your phone, and I know I just saw you on it?”

Fucking hell Isla.

You know you have to take the call, because if you do it now, there’s no chance of it happening later. You snatch the phone from her hand, holding it to your ear and exhaling an aggravated breath. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What’s up? I don’t know, Jake. You tell me what’s up! You aren’t answering any of my texts, you turned off your location days ago, you said you’d call me and you haven’t! Tell me what is going on!” she shouts into the phone.

“Nothing is going on, Isla! I am at work, working, on tour. You know the thing that pays the bills? Also, I’m in a different country, a different time zone. But you know what, I know you aren’t stupid. You know all of this, so what’s up? What is so important that you had to call someone else to get ahold of me?”

You see Josh push past Lyla, grabbing you by the shoulders, “Hey I need you to do me a favor,” he says, pushing you backwards. You pull the phone away from your ear to hear him. He stares into your eyes, silently telling you to go with it.

“Oh, I have to go Isla, sorry. Here’s Lyla,” you say, pushing the phone back into Lyla’s hands.

Lyla is staring you down as Josh finally stops, letting go of your shoulders. “I uh, I need you to go run an errand for me. Well, I need Y/N to go run an errand for me, but I need Dean to stay here to field those girls in the lobby, so I was wondering if you could accompany her?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“What?” you ask, admittedly very confused.

“Yeah, just walk with me,” he says, walking you over towards the tables. “I need you to go run this errand—” he pauses, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was close enough to hear him. “Okay, yeah there is no errand.”

You send him yet another completely bewildered look.

“There’s no errand, just…I don’t know, get out of here before someone asks questions. Go. Take her with you. She already knows and she thinks there is an errand,” he smiles smugly, “You can thank me later.”

For a moment you hesitate, unsure if you should go with his harebrained idea, but you decide to do it, knowing that he really only has your best interest at heart. He pretends to show you something on his phone, and you nod like you understand. You exhale a breath and nod towards him, “Yep, I’ll take care of that for you.”

“Yeah, perfect. Make sure you do a good job,” he quips, the meaning definitely not lost on you.

You toss your hand towards him as you walk away, locking eyes with Y/N who is waiting near the door. You swallow down your nerves and make your way towards her, ready to make amends.

“You uh, ready to go?” you ask, playing along with the charade. You pull the door open and allow her to step out first into the dimly lit hallway of the hotel lobby.

“Yeah, I just… Did he tell you what he needed or anything?” she asks, a confused look on her face. You laugh to yourself and purse your lips before answering.

“Well, he doesn’t need anything. He kinda… bent the truth a bit to give us a chance to leave alone,” you answer honestly.

A hum leaves her lips, as she stops in place turning to face you, “And how do you know that I want to leave with you?”

There's a playful grin on her face, but there's also a tinge of truth to her tone. You can’t read her, but you give it your best shot.

“Well, I have a pretty good feeling about it, but please enlighten me if I am mistaken,” you answer.

She rocks back onto the heels of her shoes, turning to continue walking, “I see, are these those ‘other plans’ you were talking about?”

You bite your lips together and turn to look at her, “That remains to be seen, I suppose.”

The two of you start to approach the elevator bank, and you know you need to make your move. She hasn’t said much, or really given you any indication of whether she is into this playful little game or not, so you decide to cut your losses and leave the ball in her court.

“I’m gonna go up to my room for the night. You can come up and join me for a night cap, or you can head back to your own room. Completely your choice, but if you decide to join me, I’m in room 507,” you finish, stopping just shy of the elevators. You give her a smile and nod your head before continuing to walk to the waiting elevator.

Your heart is racing as you step inside, wondering if she is going to follow you, or better yet take you up on your offer. You press the button for floor five and watch as the doors close, a rush of nerves spreading through your body. You shake out your hands and pull your phone from your pocket seeing a myriad of missed calls and texts from Isla. You muted her notifications after everything last night, and you know that’s what prompted her call to Lyla.

You tap your keycard to the door and step inside, the cool air of the AC hitting you like a brick wall. You step over and turn on the heat, needing the room to be at least a few degrees warmer. You take all of your things out of your pockets and deposit them on the nightstand, deciding to take Josh’s advice and power off your phone completely. You toss your jacket onto the small couch, removing the hair tie from your finger and tying your hair up into a knot. You reach for a bottle of water from the mini bar, downing what had to be half of it as you start to pace the room.

You wonder if maybe she’s texted, or added a song, anything to give you some kind of indication of her answer, but you know that your phone is off and that you’re just going to have to wait this out the old fashioned way. You kick off your boots and push them to the side of your suitcase, digging around inside of it to change clothes, but deciding to wait just a little bit longer, just in case. You unbutton your shirt though, letting it hang open on your body as you step away from your suitcase.

You sit on the edge of the bed, looking at the flashing clock on the nightstand and watching as the numbers flash as they change. Fuck, maybe she really isn’t coming.

You lay back, completely spread across the fluffy white sheets letting out a sigh of exhaustion. The past two days have drained you. Mentally, physically… You felt like you could sleep for three days straight given the opportunity. You let your eyes flutter closed for just a second, and that's when you heard it. The tiniest knock on the door. Any softer and you wouldn’t have heard it, chalking it up to your brain playing tricks on you.

You sat up instantly, listening for it again, and sure enough another set of small knocks echoed through the room.

Holy shit, she came.

You shoot up from the bed, smoothing out your hair and shaking out your arms. You were nervous, you’d admit that, but you were also bound and determined to make tonight better than the last. You’d thought of nothing else, since.

—

HER POV

The sound of a little bit of rustling inside the door causes your heart to pick up speed, the sudden clarity of what you’re doing hitting you across the face. Sure, last night you’d been in a similar circumstance, but tonight…things feel different. Your second set of knocks on his door has finally jostled him.

You hear the door knob turn and Jake opens it, hiding a little bit behind it as he invites you inside.

“Hey,” he says, his voice raspy. “Didn’t think you were gonna come up.”

You walk inside the room, smelling the remnants of the cologne he spritzed on before he came down to the bar still lingering in the air. “I almost didn’t, but, I think…we need to talk about a few things…” you reply, awkwardly holding your hands together at your stomach as he closes the door behind you. You feel your breath hitch in your throat as you finally catch sight of him, his black button-down undone all the way, and his hair tied back in a low knot at his neck. Jesus Christ, he’s a sight, even when he isn’t even trying.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” he agrees, patting the half-made bed for you to sit on. “You want a drink?” he asks, motioning to the mini fridge.

“Ah, no, I’m okay, thank you,” you reply, finally setting your purse down on the bed beside you. Things feel a bit different now as you’re both sober and serious, about to discuss something so inherently embarrassing it was almost too painful to even think about. But it has to be done, suck it up, and get it over with so that you can get on with the night…right?

“Yeah, me neither,” he agrees. You watch as he pulls a pair of sweatpants from his bag. “Care if I go change real quick?” he asks, erring on the side of etiquette for some reason, when last night you both saw more of each other than you’d really planned on.

“No, go ahead,” you say, and he slips into the bathroom. You take this second to take off your thick denim jacket and hang it on the back of a chair, and also remove your shoes and socks and place them neatly beside the door. You’re left in the comfy tight t-shirt dress, and you try to remind yourself that last night never even happened. It wasn’t real. Be cool.

You relax back on the pillows a little as you strive to get comfortable on the bed, not wanting to seem too relaxed but also be nonchalant, like this conversation was about to be the simplest thing you’d ever done. You tuck your barren legs up underneath you, leaning on your elbow against the thick white pile of pillows.

He finally emerges, now clad in a pair of dark gray sweatpants that are hugging his hips, and he’s completely devoid of a shirt at all. Before you can drink him in all the way, he’s sitting on the bed in front of you, crossing his legs and reaching for the remote, muting the TV.

You sit up to meet him, suddenly surprised at the amount of attention he’s paying you. He takes both of your hands into his, clammy but warm on your skin, and brings them to gather in his lap.

“Y/N,” he begins, “I don’t want to talk about this just as much as you probably don’t, but… I think I have some explaining to do,” he starts, his voice just a tad bit shaky as you know he is about to bare it all.

“I feel absolutely terrible about how things ended up last night. That was…not me, at all. I’d had too much to drink, and my phone was being the annoying piece of shit that it is… anyway, I’m not trying to make excuses.” He squeezes your hands and scoots himself a little closer to you, still staring directly into your eyes. “I know we’ve only known each other a few days, but. You’ve got me caught up, and…it’s not something I’m used to, Y/N,” he giggles, making you smirk back.

“Last night should have had a different outcome completely, and I blame myself for it. You can blame me for it, too. I just want you to know I’m sorry, and you were… fuck, you were beyond perfect—”

You cut him off, “You’re sure it wasn’t anything I’d done?”

“No! No no, you were fucking…flawless, Y/N. My vision may have been a bit blurry but you had it all. You have it all. Absolutely everything. And I feel like such a fucking dick that I didn’t get to…repay you. Give it back to you… you deserved more, and I’m…mortified. Humiliated over it. I wanted to dig a hole and cover myself up and never ever come out of it, honestly. I still do. It’s like the worst thing that can— anyway, you deserve to be treated right, you deserve to be shown the same kind of effort you were showing me last night…” you feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

You lean a little into his hand, the feeling of his touch making you flutter with butterflies. “…And I haven’t thought of another goddamn thing since.”

You giggle a little. “Come on now,” you say shyly. “You’re a famous rock star, there’s no way your mind’s been taken up with me all day. I’m probably the lowest on your list of past flings.” You’re honest in your admission of feelings, but you secretly hope it will just fuel him to keep talking.

“No, think again, Y/N.” His voice suddenly deepens. “That’s absolutely untrue.” His fingertips trickle to the back of your neck. “The way your hips felt in my hands, the way you took over control and put matters into your own hands…fuck. And your mouth…” his thumb is pressing a little harder, now. “Yeah, I haven’t had a clean thought all day, if we’re being honest,” he laughs. You pull one hand away from his grip and place it on his knee, squeezing it just a little as your bodies slowly inch closer and closer in toward one another.

“I’ve never met another woman that’s captivated me so quickly before,” he continues, his breaths now shorter and chopped as he speaks. “You came in and fucked my whole world up, Y/N… You make me feel things I haven’t felt in years. You make me nervous…”

Your faces are within inches now as you return his gaze, listening to him talk. Your hand drifts higher on his thigh, gently squeezing at the muscle as it climbs. His hand is still firmly gripping your face, the ends of his fingertips now tickling at your hairline. You can feel the tingles going up and down your spine like flashing lights, each word that escapes from his mouth setting the next one on fire.

Finally you speak. “Look, Jake, you don’t have to explain anything else to me. I realize that something was off last night, and that isn’t how things probably go for you normally. I’ve felt our chemistry, and there’s something…there, ya know? And honestly there for a few minutes, we actually had things going, and I think we had it figured out. You felt…” you bite your lips together, feeling a little shy. “You felt really fucking good. But I don’t want you to be embarrassed or upset with yourself. We’re adults, and I’m aware that shit happens. Not every time can be perfect. You were still on my mind all day long, today. Been hoping you would text me, something,” you go on, feeling his fingertips grip and release your hair every few seconds.

A sly smile creeps to his lips as you watch his eyes squint. He looks relieved, but there’s also something else. “I hope you know that I’m more than capable of…making you feel good, and I’d really like it if you’d give me a second chance to redeem myself. I wanna prove it to you.”

You can do nothing but nod your head, feeling the magnetism of his pull bringing you forward, both of your chests heaving with want for each other now. You’re absolutely dying to touch him, reach out and feel the electricity radiating from his body, but you stop yourself. You’re going to let him make the first move.

You exhale onto him, letting the thick, hot air from your lungs dance across his lips as he releases your other hand, letting it come up to cup your other cheek. Your foreheads balance on one another’s, and you can feel the palpable tension building up second by second.

“Thank you, for hearing me out,” he whispers onto your lips, before gently pressing them onto yours, an almost featherlight peck. You both pull back for a second, taking a final look at one another before you crash into each other’s mouths again, heated, fiery, and wanting.

Your other hand grips his thigh, and you’re almost unable to stop yourself from pouncing on him, laying him back into the sheets and devouring him, but you hold back. You want to take your time, and you know he wants to do this the right way.

The kiss deepens, your tongues reaching far to taste every bit that they can. His hands slowly drift from your jawline to your shoulders and finally to your chest, lightly letting his fingertips descend before resting again on your hips. You’re both still sitting cross-legged on the bed, your knees touching each other’s as you each lean in. You want to make the next move, but again, you want to let him steer this ship as much as he wants to.

So for the moment, you let yourself enjoy his kiss, concentrating and honing in on committing every detail of it to your memory. He’s not forceful, but he doesn’t hold back, either. It’s the perfect mix of control and submission, and you haven’t even moved past the most basic part yet. His hands move again, sneaking under your legs to pull you up onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as you sit on his lap.

Your chests are pressed together now, heaving and already breathless. You can feel that he’s excited below you; thankfully things are already going way better than they were last night. You continue to devour one another, touching and feeling and pulling every piece of him that you could, and him doing the same in return. A quick visual pops into your mind- you’d worn a skimpy little red lace thong just in case, and now you’re silently thanking yourself for the choice, knowing that when the time comes, he’s going to go absolutely insane at the sight of you in it.

You take a second to pull away, grinding yourself down onto him as you trail lovebites down his neck and shoulder, and the sounds that growl from his chest make your nails dig into his skin. He hisses a little bit, but you’re more than positive that he likes the sensation. His hands grip your hips, pulling you down onto him again, making you take complete notice that he wants you just as badly. He leans his neck sideways as your tongue drifts from his collarbone up his jugular, the artery pulsing hard beneath your lips. You bite it lightly before continuing up to his ear, gently taking his ear lobe between your teeth.

You feel him pull back and laugh a little through his nose, and you’re sure you’ve found a sensitive spot. You grind yourself onto him again, this time pulling a full on groan from him. You leave your mouth hovering over his ear, blowing tiny bits of cold air onto the trail of saliva you’d left behind.

“I feel you, baby…” you whisper, allowing yourself the satisfaction of using a pet name for the very first time. His body language shifts, all his muscles tightening as you speak. “Wanna feel you more…” you mutter quietly, making his dick twitch between your legs. You could feel your warmth on the bulge of his sweatpants, and you secretly wish he would get on with it.

“You wanna do this…” he whispers back, his voice tight and gravely.

You nod hard, completely positive that you were going to go ahead with this second chance. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t…”

Finally, he reaches down to grip your thighs, squeezing his palms over them before gripping the hem of your dress, rolling it up over your hips, your chest, and finally over your head. Your arms fly up to help him remove the dress completely before he lets it fall to the floor beside you. His eyes black out with lust, his jaw falling open at the sight of you only in your bra and panties. He saw you like this last night, of course, but things are different now. Each of you has something to prove.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous…” he says, immediately burying his face between your breasts, rolling his tongue just beneath the thin fabric of your black bra. “Who knew you had all this hiding…” His hands reach up and grip the material, pulling it down to reveal your tits, bouncing and standing at attention for him. His hands waste no time rolling across them, kneading the muscle as your head falls back. His fingers massage your nipples and pull at the skin, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. God, you swear you could get off just from this…

He puts his right hand at the center of your sternum, pressing you back gently until you’re laid out on the bed. He scrambles to his knees, finally hovering over you a little. He lets his fingers glide from your chest down your stomach, finally hooking in the hem of your thong. He doesn’t pull it off, though… Instead he runs his fingers along the hem, around your hip, and to your asscheek, using his leverage and grip on the muscle to yank you back down toward him.

Your knee bends on its own from the motion, causing your legs to part a little as your core hits his knee. He bends down, laying sweet kisses to your stomach and hips, causing you to buck up and whine with every tiny little touch.

“Please Jake…” you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you soon, your core absolutely throbbing with want for him. Last night, you felt these same feelings. You felt this pull to him, this need. But after how it all went down, sitting there on your bed staring at the wall was the only reaction that seemed plausible… no post-sex afterglow, no blissful body aches… just an unsatisfied and discouraged feeling of letdown.

But now, twenty-four hours later, as you feel your body being pulled into him and touched by him again, you want nothing more than to replicate those few minutes of really good sex that you’d been able to achieve last night. Your body was practically begging you to let him have it.

You hear the air kick on in the room, and though you know it’s the heat, you still feel the blow of the fan forcing air across your nearly nude body. You feel chill bumps cover your entire body as you shudder a little.

“Fuck, got cold in here, didn’t it,” Jake breathes, shivering a little bit himself. “Come on, let’s get under the covers.” You don’t argue with him, feeling a chill diving down deep into your bones.

You sit up as he stands, pulling the heavy white linens back for you to get under. “Wait,” you say, walking on your knees back toward him. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pants, returning to kissing him hard as you pull them and his boxers all the way off. He smiles onto your lips, falling sideways a little as he trips over them around his ankles. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in for a tight embrace as your hands tangle in his hair, gripping into it as you pull him back down onto the bed with you.

You both slide underneath and cozy up, letting the warmth come over you and calm you back down again. It’s the sight of him, though, crawling into the bed with his eyes trained on you, fully nude with his bottom lip tucked into his teeth that sends you over the edge. Suddenly your chest is heavy and your eyes are glazed with lust, that blinding feeling of carnal need setting into your lower abdomen. You don’t feel this feeling much, but when you do, you know that what you’re about to experience will be nothing short of mind blowing…it’s like the universe knows you need to let go of all human emotion if you’re going to let your body experience the interaction just as it is.

Suddenly you find yourself flipped up and straddling his legs, pulling the comforter over your head as you descend down his body. “Whoa whoa, where you going?” he smirks, his smile crooked as his hands balance by his head.

“You can prove the rest to me in a minute. I never got to finish this part last night…” you say, disappearing into the darkness of the covers. You hear his laugh fall out as an exasperated huff, but he knows better than to stop you. You put your fingertips on the insides of his thighs, pushing them away from one another as you lightly tickle your nails up them, stopping short as you take his fully-hard dick in your palm, slowly working it from bottom to top.

“Thereeeee you are…” you sing in a teasing tone. Fuck yeah, there he is. This is what you felt that night in the bathroom. This is the him that wasn’t out to play last night.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hear him laugh lowly, gently patting a hand against your cheek. You can’t see him, but you know the exact expression that’s probably on his face right now.

You squeeze him as you work your hand, gently letting your lips graze his head as you stick your tongue out a little, barely wetting the tip. You taste his saltiness on your tongue, a tell-tale sign that he is absolutely ready for whatever else the night has to bring. You let the flavor sit on your tongue for a second before you take him down completely, knowing that if he has any memory of you doing this last night, it was probably spotty, at best.

“Fuck, baby…shit…” he says from the head of the bed, his thighs clenching together a little as his hands dip under the blankets to tangle in your hair. You begin to go to work, feeling halfway happy you are hiding away, able to perform without his watchful eye, but also a little sad he isn’t getting to see the show you’re putting on for him.

Like he can hear your thoughts, he speaks again, “What, you not gonna let me watch you?” He asks with a little demand in his tone, pushing the sheets up over your head to finally make eye contact. You decide to capitalize on it, fluttering your eyelashes as you take him as far as he can go, letting his tip graze the back of your throat. If he wants to watch, you’re going to give him something worth watching.

His reaction is warranted as you see him lose composure for a second, letting his head tilt back into the pillows as his jaw falls open and he lets out a cry that will be playing in the back of your mind until you fall asleep tonight. His hand tightens in your hair while the other one scoops up what has fallen in front of your face, moving it away from your mouth. His teeth grit hard as his hand pulls your hair, lifting you off and back down onto him just a little bit.

Your imagination starts to soar; it’s been a while since you’ve had a good romp, and after the letdown of last night and Jake promising to give you a good run tonight, you decide to keep the show rolling. You pop your lips off of him letting him drop your hair, spinning yourself around backwards to straddle him that way. Again, you thank yourself for the everything shower and shave this morning, knowing that now, the thin strip of red lace fabric is the only thing covering you as your ass is fully on display in front of his face.

Is it an invitation? Kind of…he said he wants to show off for you…right?

“God damn, girl…” he says through another rasp, his hand gripping your asscheek as you take him in your mouth again. You sway your hips side to side, arching your back to give him a full view of you. You feel the slightest tinge of embarrassment at your somewhat bold switch up, but after feeling his reaction and the actual pounding of the blood pumping through his dick, you know it’s all worth it.

Finally, after a string of curses from his mouth behind you, you feel his fingers slip under the thong, pulling it to the side as his fingers begin to explore you. First soft and gentle, but then switching to more of a rhythm as he feels how soaked you are. You moan onto his dick, letting your stomach fall into his as you lean back into his touch.

“Fuck, you’re so wet baby, just like last night. Gonna take care of you, I swear it…” he grumbles. His thumb finds your clit after pulling your wetness down to coat it, his digits slipping and sliding as he uses more pressure.

You whimper loudly without warning, the fire burning in your belly finding you more quickly than you’d anticipated.

You pop your mouth off of him for a breath, and he takes the second of separation to grab both of your hips, pulling you backward toward him. His tongue swipes once from your clit to your opening before he slides himself underneath you in one quick motion, pulling you down to be completely seated on his face.

Oh, there we go…

Should you do it? Should you go all in?

You only have a few seconds to toss it over in your mind before his hands are wrapped around your thighs, pulling you down onto him even more. Yeah, he wants you to. His mouth is immediately connected to you, his tongue outstretched and licking over you as your hands balance on his stomach. “Fuuuuccckk…” you whine at a high-pitched tone, letting your head tilt back on your shoulders.

He’s wasting nothing at all. No time, no contact, no area of you goes untouched by his mouth. You begin swirling your hips, picking up a little every few seconds as you grind onto his tongue. It’s hot, but you still feel the chill of the air in the room, causing you to break out in another rush of goosebumps from the air and the pleasure. You catch a small glimpse of the two of you in the hotel room mirror, the visual more than you can bear as his tongue flicks across your sensitive bud again.

“Jake…shit…if you keep doing that…” your nails dig into his pecs again as you begin to feel your knees burning, your hips swirling and bouncing as he holds you steadily connected with his mouth. Even when you try to pull off to give him a breather, he pats your thighs with his fingertips, telling you to come back down.

“Mmmhm…” he agrees, shaking his face against you, the slight prickle of his mustache a blissful roughness on your sensitive spots. “Lemme have it, baby…” he works out, bending one knee up to sturdy himself. You can hear the pants of breath he’s taking as he talks before yanking your body weight right back down onto him again.

Your vision is beginning to blur as you feel the tightness forming in your stomach, every inch of you on fire as you feel the release building and building. Your movements become chopped and faulty, and just as you’re about to lose all composure, Jake grips the back elastic of your thong, letting the stretchy material snap back against your skin. The tinge of pain sends you toppling over the edge, your entire body shaking and trembling as everything goes white. He continues his work, his tongue still snaking and swirling in the most animalistic way, letting you ride through it until you’re back on earth.

When you’re finally able to breathe again, you lean forward onto all fours so he can sit up all the way, and instead of crashing back down beside him, all you want to do is give him more. Let him give you more. That was just a preview. Now…you want him. You need to feel him inside of you again.

You turn in the bed, catching sight of his face covered in your slick…his lips pink and blotchy as he runs his hands across his face. You inch your way back over to him, using your own palm to wipe from his forehead down to his chin, twisting your fingers over his chin to bring his face crashing onto yours again. You let your tongue sink into his mouth, tasting yourself as you kiss him with everything you have.

Your hands are all over each other as he takes you in one arm, pulling you back underneath the covers with him again. “I can’t fuckin’ wait any longer, Y/N…I need you right the fuck now.”

You’re lying beneath him now, still riding the high of your overwhelmingly good orgasm, but quickly making your way back up to arousal again with the sight of him so wanting for you. His state is almost pathetic, the look on his face pitiful but commanding as his jaw clenches over and over again.

Your hands are attached to his sides as he reaches into the floor for his pants from earlier, pulling out a little square package. You notice it’s a different kind than the one he had last night, and you’re thankful he’s switched brands.

“Hurry, Jake…” you say, your heart pounding in your ears. You watch as he rips the wrapper in half with his teeth, removing the colored condom and spitting the trash onto the floor. He’s sat back on his haunches and you perk up onto your elbows, using one hand to help him slide it over himself, completely hard and ready for you.

You feel like you could spontaneously combust at any second, the need for him stronger than anything you’ve felt in a long, long time. The way he looks sitting between your parted knees, adoring every inch of you as he swallows down any inhibition or doubt that he’s still holding onto from the embarrassment of last night.

He takes a second more to place his hands on your knees, letting them drift down between your legs as he connects his two middle fingers to swirl your clit again. Your legs part even further as he kisses you again, finally towering over you completely before removing his hand, grabbing himself and lining up with you.

“Show me again…” you whisper into his ear, his hair completely falling all over your face. It’s mere seconds before you feel him gently press into you, only an inch or two before retracting his hips, letting out a calming exhale before he presses forward again, this time a little further. The stretch is blowing your mind already, your nails traveling down his back to grip his ass, willing him to fill you to the hilt.

“Easy, baby…just take it as I give it to you,” he growls in your ear, and his commanding words make you cease your movements altogether, releasing your strong grip on his back.

“No no…keep doing that, though…fuck, keep doing that…” he begs, touching his forehead to yours. His brows are pinched together, his tongue darting out to lick his lips every few seconds as his eyelids flutter open and closed. You do as he says, digging your nails into him as he thrusts slowly, each time a little further in.

The sensation is overwhelming, taking away every single one of your senses and directing them toward what he is making you feel right now. The noises you already can’t stop yourself from making are bouncing off the walls as you look behind him, watching his hips move the covers as he fills you, over and over until he finally bottoms out.

“God…fuck, Jake….” You both make pathetic sounds as he pauses there, letting himself feel you wholly. He pulls up, taking a rutted breath as he makes desperate eye contact with you. You grab the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss, eliciting a high pitched wail from him as he starts picking up a pace.

He breaks away after a second or two, “‘m not gonna go easy on you, baby…let me know if I need to slow down…” his words rip through your chest as if you’d just gotten a shot to the heart. You shake your head side to side.

“Lemme see it, come on…” you pant, already feeling your muscles doing their best to pull him in as far as your body will let him.

He picks up the pace now, jutting his hips deeply into you. The feeling is making your head feel cloudy and dense, but the pleasure filling your bloodstream is the only thing keeping you tethered to the here and now. He pauses, sitting up a little to toss your leg over his shoulder, slowing down just a little bit as he hits from a different angle. This one is deeper and titled a little, and you can feel the tip of him grazing your cervix with every push.

He can tell your facial expression has changed as he slows down again, almost to a complete stop. “What baby, you okay?” he asks.

“No no, yeah, don’t stop…please…” you motion with your hand for him to continue, the sickening pleasure mixed with the tightening pain, a blissful concoction that is hard to admit you love. But you do. You love it all.

His pace becomes furious again as he picks up where he left off, your leg draped over his shoulder as he has one hand over your knee, and the other gripping into the muscle of your thigh. He’s squeezing so hard, and his hips are pounding at such a forceful pace that you’re sure he is leaving bruises, but they’ll be bruises that you accept without argument, admiring them as you look in the mirror tomorrow.

He’s everything, right now…his eyes delving deep into yours as you drink him in, letting your sounds let him know how good he’s making you feel. How perfect you fit, how much better this is going than it did last night…

Suddenly he pulls all the way out of you, lifting your body to flip onto your stomach. His hands are under your hips, pulling them back again just the same as he had done earlier, but this time he hops to the floor, pulling you back again to meet him on the edge. “Hold on, baby,” he instructs, and you do, gripping the sheets tightly in your fists as you feel him enter you from behind, this time.

The height couldn’t be more perfect as this new position makes you drop your face to the mattress, fully surrendering yourself to him. You haven’t felt anything like him before, each and every move he makes is making your nerve endings burn with fire.

He lays a harsh smack to your ass, and you grunt in rebuttal, letting the delicious pain surge through your muscle. His pace quickens again, and his hand is on the back of your neck, pinning his fingers to either side of your throat from behind. “Fuck yes…” you breathe out, your eyes beginning to fill with clouds.

You hear the smack of his lips, knowing that he’d just wet his finger, and suddenly his other hand quickly finds your clit again, swirling tiny circles on it and sending you into a whole new wave of satisfaction. Your cries push out with every thrust, and you feel like you’re on the verge of tears. It’s all overwhelming and encompasses your every thought, the sounds of your bodies hitting together making it all even more devious when you close your eyes, imagining the scene.

He continues this way for a minute or so, the sounds of your bodies smacking together building up your second orgasm on their own.

Then, he’s pulling your torso up, your back meeting his chest as he slows the pace of his thrusts, but never letting up on the swirl of his fingers. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N…so perfect…” his words are calm now as he begins kissing your neck, still pumping in and out of you. His arm wraps around your front, pulling you back into him so you don’t collapse forward. He can tell you’re close.

“Jake…I’m almost…” you breathe, and you feel his dick twitch inside you.

“Me too, baby. Keep squeezing me just like that…” he asks as a whisper in your ear, his mouth still connected to your neck, his other hand gripping your tit.

With a particularly pointed flick to your clit, and a deep thrust, your entire world is crumbling beneath you, your body falling to pieces as you let it all go. His fingers squeeze your nipple hard, sending that sensation into overdrive. He isn’t far behind as his grip tightens all over you, his pace now rutted and messy as you hear him groaning in your ear. The entire world goes quiet for a minute as you hit the peak of your highs together, rendering both of you speechless as you hold your breath.

“Motherfucker…” he says as he finally comes back down, releasing you to fall forward onto the bed. All of your muscles are limp and lifeless as he collapses beside you, both of you too sweaty now to care about cuddling back up together.

“Yeah, mother fucker,” you laugh, pulling away a few strands of hair from his sweaty forehead and cheek. “That’s was…you were…” you open your mouth to find the words, but they simply don’t come.

He props up on his elbows, kissing a sweet peck onto your shoulder. “I don’t know what you were going to say, but I agree…” he chuckles. “You’re near goddamn perfect, Y/N.”

“Near?! What do you mean, near?!” you joke, shoving his mouth off of your shoulder.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Fuckin’ amazing, is what I meant. Flawless in every single way,” he says, his cheeks turning the sweetest shade of crimson.

You take turns in the bathroom cleaning up, and you can’t wipe the smile that’s permanently plastered to your face. He’d done it all, he’d proven himself to you, in the most mind-blowing way you could have dreamt up. You don’t want to admit it, but you can see yourself getting caught up by Jake just as he admitted he is caught up by you. And after sex like that, well…

You begin to pick up your things from the floor and redress just as he is coming out of the bathroom. “No no, where are you going?” he asks, his tone a little let down.

“I’m…going back to my room…” you say, caught off guard.

“No. Stay here, please? After that I– I don’t know, I don’t want you to go,” he says. “Please stay.”

You laugh, tossing your shoes back into the corner. “You sure? You won’t like, get in trouble or anything?”

He scoffs. “The fuck would I get in trouble for?”

“I’m your employee, Jake…” you remind him.

His face contorts up. “I don’t like how that sounds, remember.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a large white t-shirt, tossing it your way. You pull it over your head as he flips the light off, pulling the disheveled sheets back again for you both to climb into. You have to admit, you’re glad he asked you to stay, as you’re not sure if your tired muscles would have liked walking down the long hall to the elevator.

He pulls you in to spoon him, turning on the TV to the guide channel. His body feels perfectly aligned with yours as his hand rests on the outside of your thigh, the other propping his head up above yours.

“You’re a woman that I’ve taken a keen interest in, and am enjoying pursuing, and well, occasionally sleeping with every now and then. Who sometimes goes on errands for us,” he says in retaliation, making you giggle.

“…and your company also signs my paychecks,” you retort.

He hisses in a quick breath. “Ehhhh yeah, I guess you’re right. But just, I don’t like how it sounds. So quit saying it like that.” He leans down and presses a wet kiss to your cheek, sealing in his words.

“Okay, okay,” you agree.

After a few minutes, he speaks again through a yawn. “So, did I prove myself? Was my attempt at redemption enough to make you forget last night ever even happened?” he asks.

You close your eyes as you press your ass into his groin again, making him hop back a little in surprise. “Jake, I told myself last night never even happened as soon as you left my room,” you admit, and you are telling the truth. “I knew there was no way…”

You hear him huff a tiny laugh, “You had some faith in me, baby?”

Your blood runs a little hotter every time he calls you baby, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t completely enamor you.

You twist your body beneath his hand to lay on your back. You fluff the pillow beneath your head, feeling his free hand move to assist you in finding the perfect position. His right hand doesn’t leave your body though, sliding just under the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare stomach. “Maybe just a little.”

JAKE POV

Her skin is warm beneath your hand, her body still cooling down after the activities of the last hour. It was perfect. Every single thing you ever wanted it to be and even a little more. She is perfect. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest when you saw her grabbing her things, there was no way you could let her leave this room thinking that this was just sex. I mean, yeah maybe that was your intention tonight, but there was something else. You know that the sex wouldn’t have been what it was if there wasn’t something more lying beneath the surface. You wanted her to stay here with you. You wanted to hold her and be with her and enjoy the afterglow.

Even in the dark room you can’t take your eyes off of her. The way the TV is flashing blue light across her face she almost looks angelic. You let your fingers trace tiny circles into her skin as you look at her, completely enamored with every single detail of her. You reach for the remote flipping through the channels looking for anything you could mindlessly fall asleep to.

“Should I pick something and show you what a good movie looks like?” you tease, tickling your fingers into her stomach.

“I know what good movies are, thank you very much,” she quips, turning her head to look at you. Her eyes are shiny as they look into yours, lingering for just a second before flicking back to the TV.

Her hand reaches up to cradle your jaw, your face falling into her touch on its own accord.

“Hey…” she whispers, waiting for you to look at her. “Tell me why you were so in your head yesterday.”

Fuck. Do you tell her? Do you tell her the real reason? Do you risk ruining this moment with the truth?

“Ahh…It was a lot of things. Tour, traveling, the drinking, obviously. Also just a lot of pressure to do this and do that…or, don’t do this, and don’t do that. It’s hard sometimes, living this lifestyle. It’s incredibly isolating, and after a while you almost start to lose touch with what’s real,” you answer, skirting around the real reason.

She rolls to face you, not letting her hand leave your jaw as she presses a soft, delicate kiss to your lips. You feel your whole body relax into her, feeling a peace come over you that you haven’t felt in a long time. A kiss that told you she understands.

“I’m here, and this is real and you don’t have to feel isolated anymore, if you don’t want to,” she breathes.

You kiss her again, pulling her into you just a little closer. “I don’t want to.”

“Good,” she whispers, her lips brushing yours.

She drops her hand and nuzzles her face into your neck, a soft sigh falling from her lips. You know she’s tired, because you’re tired. You let your own head fall back onto the pillows, your arm wrapped around her shoulders as she snuggles into your side. You can’t help but let Josh’s words from yesterday float through your mind. You wonder if what you are doing is wrong, if you should make sure Isla knows you two are done before pursuing Y/N any further. Though, it’s a little too late for that.

You push it away as you feel Y/N drifting off to sleep on your chest, but now your mind is racing and you need to quiet it. You reach over, grabbing your phone from the nightstand and powering it back on. You’re immediately met with about ten missed calls and too many texts to count. You quickly open them, clearing out the notifications but paying no mind to what they say. Instead you open your shared playlist, the perfect song coming to mind.

You sneakily add ‘Are You Satisfied?’ by Reignwolf to the playlist, knowing she will get a laugh out of that when she sees it. You turn your face to her head, letting your lips brush the crown of her head as you breathe her in. The feeling of her next to you and her deep rhythmic breathing is starting to slow your busy mind. You lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand, turning off the TV and letting your eyes close. You replay the night in your head, every perfect second of it, praying that it will make an appearance in your dreams tonight.

—

You aren’t sure what woke you, maybe the heat of the room, or the slamming of the door in the hallway. Your eyes pop open, scratchy and dry as they adjust to the darkness of the room. You immediately feel Y/N next to you, no longer on your chest but her legs still tangled with yours. Your heart swells at the vision of her curled up in the bed next to you.

You reach out for your phone, tapping the screen to see what time it is. 4:46AM.

You see that a new song has been added to your shared playlist, and you smile knowing that Y/N must have woken up sometime during the night and saw your addition. You tap the notification and bring up the playlist to see what she added, letting a small laugh leave your lips as it loads. ‘Whatta Man’ by Salt-n-Pepa was added two hours ago. She’s so fucking cute you could hardly stand it. You had half a mind to wake her up and show her all over again just how much you wanted her.

However, when you close out of the playlist a new round of missed calls graces your screen, along with a seemingly endless string of texts from Isla. You let out a sigh as you tap the message icon to see what she could possibly need this badly.

Opening the messages you see a link to Danny’s close friends story sent at nearly one in the morning. You furrow your brow and tap on the video, seeing Sam and Lyla taking tequila shots together, but of course in the background of the video just barely noticeable, is you leaving the bar with Y/N.

Goddamnit Daniel.

Isla

1:12AM: Who the fuck that girl Jake?

Isla

1:25AM: She’s cute, nice!

Isla

1:30AM: Is this why you’ve been so “busy” all the sudden?

Isla

1:41AM: Does she even know about us or is she just some whore you found while you’re there

Isla

1:52AM: Nevermind! It was almost too easy to find her profile, this her? Y/N?

Isla

1:55AM: Oh my god, she works for you…

Isla

1:56AM: Management is gonna love this. ❤️

Isla

1:58AM: How about you just call me tomorrow

Mother fucker. Motherfucker.

You debate getting out of bed to call her right now. You know how she is and you know what she is capable of, and you’d be goddamned if that woman was going to ruin this for you. You start to type, the fury boiling in your veins as your thumbs swipe across the keyboard, but suddenly you feel Y/N stirring next to you and it’s as if all the rage you were holding in disappeared. She rolls towards you, her hand coming to rest on your arm as she snuggles her head down into the pillow. You felt yourself relax under her touch, and instantly the message on your screen didn’t seem to matter. You deleted everything you typed and closed out of it, placing your phone back on the nightstand.

You looked at her, sleeping so peacefully next to you and decided that all of that could wait. You knew that it would only be a matter of time before Isla made her move, and when she did she would strike to kill. You grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her into you, feeling her fit so perfectly, so naturally into your arms that it made you weak.

You knew there was a chance that this night, this one night, may be all you get with her, and you were going to enjoy every single last second of it, knowing that morning would come, and with it a likely very nasty conversation between you and Isla. But more than that, it brought the promise that Y/N’s face would be the first thing you would see, and that alone had you closing your eyes ready to face another day.

Taglist: @britney-gvf @gretavanmoon @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@myownparadise96 @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @gvf-luna @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby

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devilat-thedoor · 2 days

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A/N: Lovers, babes, friends🩵 this is an open love letter to anyone who has kept up with my little baby of a fic. If you’ve stuck around this long, i’d just like to offer my love and appreciation for you. The amount of support and love that i’ve received through the journey thus far has been incredible and truly inspiring and heartwarming. I know it’s been a roller coaster of emotions, but the ride isn’t over just yet……There may be a loop or two ahead? I love you all endlessly💜

In Progress | 18+ Minors DNI | Includes smut&other mature themes

Word Count: 104.5k

Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 (TW:SA)

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11 (coming soon)

#hands to yourself #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka fanfic #gvf smut #gvf fic #sammy kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #sinsofstardust #devilat-thedoor

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yourmomsemogarlicbread · 1 day

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Pirates, B****!

pairings: jake kiszka x reader

warnings!!!: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (don’t be silly wrap ur willy.), kissing, secret relationship (if you squint), Pirate AU, fluff, smut, love confessions, love confessions during sex, oral (f receiving), penetration, female reader.

Author's Note: hi! this is the first fic on this account and my first great van fleet fic lol. i wrote this after waking up to the mirador announcement and honestly who doesn't want a pirate!Jake fic yk? anyways if you would like to check out my other works or read this on AO3 you can do so here.

Jake is good at what he does.

We all knew that.

You admired him for that. His ways of always keeping calm in the face of enemy attack, always coming back strong, leaving your rivals either slaughtered or surrendering within minutes. He had his reputation, that’s for sure - but he was somehow everything and nothing like the standards he was upheld to. On the one hand, he was like the hard-edged man he was known to be, one of the best pirates out there, our ship, the celestial fleet, was one of the most beloved (by our allies) and the most feared (by our enemies). But on the other hand, he was the best partner you could’ve asked for. He was a very compassionate and loving man behind closed doors, especially when you layed in his quarters at night - but the rest of the crew didn’t need to know about that did they?

His two sides were almost your favorite thing about him, seeing both of them made you special. Only the rest of the crew saw his tough side, but when it came to you, he always ensured you were loved, even if nobody else knew about it. He would assign the easier chores to you, making sure you were always taken care of and never harassed by your fellow crew mates because god damn anyone who dared to hit on you in front of Jake. And nobody knows; everyone just thought he was going easy on you because you were the only lady on the ship. After all, being the only lady on the ship meant two things for you. Number one - respect. Number two - you were damn good at stealing shit, so it was safe to assume everyone around knew you were too good to give up, especially Jake.

So when you found yourself on the top deck of the ship directing your fellow crew mates, you couldn’t be more thankful for Captain Jake.

He was sick, down with what he called “the sea coldness making him sick once a year because ‘the sea is a bitch!’” So he was resting in his quarters for the next two or so days until he recovered. Was he faking it because he was probably just lazy and didn’t want to deal with his crew when he knew that they weren’t treading on any enemy waters? Yes, most definitely. Did that make you love him any less? Not a single bit.

He made you in charge for the foreseeable future as “his illness” had left him bedridden and you leading the ship was the only solution, or so he claimed. And you know what, that had to be the kindest gesture he had given you to date, well besides all the sex and nightly meet-ups in his quarters, but that’s beside the point.

So here you are watching as your slightly useless crew mates try sweeping the water off the lower deck while the sea is still roaring from the last run-in you had with a storm a day ago.

“Hey, Sam! You realize how fucking useless that is right?” You called from the top deck. He looked back up at you, covering his eyes with his hand to protect you from the sun. “Well, at least I’m trying to get ahead of it!” He called back out. “Suit yourself then! I’m going to check back up on the captain.” You hollered out, walking down the stairs to the lower deck, and entering the trap door leading to the crew quarters. You hopped off the final stair making your way past all of the bunks reserved for your crew, reaching the door that led to Jake’s quarters.

Knock, Knock.

“Who is it!” He called out, obviously thinking you were one of your crewmates trying to complain about something. “Jake it’s me.” You called to him. “Oh, c’mon in.” His voice softened at your identity. You open the door to reveal him in only his white button-up shirt, half-buttoned, lying in bed. God was he a sight for sore eyes, his beauty overtaking you every time you laid eyes on him. “Why hello there.”

You walk into his quarters slowly walking around to the side of his bed, gently laying a hand on his chest. “How are you feeling, Captain?” His gentle breaths make your hand rise and fall as he looks back up at you, putting on his best sickly performance in hopes you wouldn’t call him on his bullshit. “I’m feeling better every second you’re here.” He speaks weakly with a slight smile, god he was dramatic. “God, you’re playing this shit up aren’t you.” You ask, letting out a laugh as you look down to see his face morph into one best resembling an offended barkeeper you would typically manage to piss off after having a few too many, which is something Jake has managed to do many times. He let you a playfully shocked gasp, “How dare you suggest that I would fake an illness!” Laughing, you find yourself pulled on top of him on the bed.

Jake laughs as he covers your face in playful kisses. “How have the boys been treatin’ ya, love?” He asks, his classic smile enchanting you more. “Well being completely honest, yes but I do believe Sam is a fucking idiot. He was trying to sweep water off the deck when it just kept coming back up onto it, and when I told him how stupid he was he just said that he was trying to get ahead of it.”

“Well unfortunately hun I think that’s just how he is. You can't fix him, he’s just…Sam.” You let out a laugh at his admission. Jake takes his hands and rests them on your cheeks, soft for a pirate, rough for a human, the gentle median coming across in this perfect man. You look back into his eyes, they’re gentle, relaxed, and simply beautiful, just like him.

“I love this side of you.”

“What side of me?”

“This one, it’s the only one I get to see.”

“Well…I’m glad you like it. And if it makes you feel better I’ll make sure only you get to see it.”

You feel yourself smile uncontrollably at that, you feel your cheeks warm up in slight embarrassment. He takes your head and places it in the crook of his neck. “Let’s just rest here.” You hum in agreement with his statement. His warm chest brings such a sense of comfort. You find yourself being lulled to sleep via his rising and falling chest and the gentle rocking of the ship, sleeping peacefully amidst the sea and the only ground you find yourself on, Captain Jake.

You wake up in the middle of the night.

Alone…

Interesting.

You slowly gather the courage to get up and look around for Jake. You get up quietly and peek out the door. You see the rest of your crew sleeping in their bunks, Danny snoring while hanging half off the bed, bottle of rum 5 feet away from him. Josh isn’t even bothered enough to get in his bunk, instead opting to cuddle up next to Sam in what one can only assume to be a drunken attempt to sleep anywhere but the floor. But thankfully those three only stood out to you, the rest of them were peacefully sleeping in their bunks. You walk past them and silently open the trap door out to the deck.

The cool chill of the ocean air makes goosebumps arise on your skin. The white dress you wear flows in the wind, not protected from the elements. You shut the door gently behind you. Looking out across the sea briefly, you call out for Jake. “Hello, darling! Lovely evening isn’t it?” his voice calls from above you. He’s in the crow's nest, looking back down at you. “Jake, what the hell are you doing up here this late? Even the boys went to bed already, and they drank.” You watch as he climbs down on the ratlines making an abrupt landing on the forecastle. “Come on up here m’lady.” He takes a little bow as he holds his hand out for you to join him. You jump up onto the steps leading you to him, being pulled up onto the upper platform as he greets you.

“Why hello there, Captain.”

“Why hello there first maiden.”

“Oh, so I’m first maiden now?”

“Indeed.”

He embraced you with fervor, his warmth being your grounding point out on the cold night sea. Your lips meet gently under the moonlight sky. Sweet kisses mixed with the faint taste of tobacco threw you for a loop. By the seconds that pass you can feel what started as quiet midnight endearments turn into lustful kisses under a blood moon night. Jake’s hands snaked around your hips, leading you onto the very upper deck of the ship, his hips meeting yours as he stood between your legs.

You reach your hands down, feeling his half-covered chest, reaching down towards his stomach, then happy trial, till you finally meet the button of his pants. Jake lets out a whimper, muffled by the connection you two had. You feel Jake’s hips buck into your touch. Slowly, you unbutton his pants briefly breaking the connection you had with your lips. Lust fills the air between you both. You gently pull his boxers down pulling out his cock, Jake moans at the feeling of your stroking him, gathering the drops of pre-cum leaking out of his cock. “Baby-” you smile up at him, never slowing your heartless pace. You moan into a kiss with him, his touch electrifying you more than you already have the whole time you’ve been stroking him, mercilessly.

“Stop, baby-” he lets out a pathetic lust-stricken sigh, catching his breath. “Not yet sweet girl,” You watch as Jake knees down and looks back up at you from his knees. His hands travel up under your dress encouraging you to reveal yourself. You answer the beckoning call, cool chill making you shake a little. You feel his lips gently tease at your thighs, climbing higher up along with you. Looking down, you see a god himself before you, gently teasing you up until he reaches your clit.

“God I love this-”

And then he dives in.

The initial shock of his warm tongue steals your breath out of your lungs. Gasping for air you feel the pleasure as he sucks and rubs and does everything right.

Fuck, he was good at what he did.

“Jak-” Another moan was unexpectedly stolen from your grasp, almost embarrassingly loud. You could feel the vibrations and hear Jake moan around your vulva. Two of his fingers enter your cunt, already throbbing and waiting for him not-so-patiently. You could already feel it in your gut, just teasing you, just like Jake would with his playful nature, both inside and outside the bedroom. And god, you fucking loved him.

Then you feel it snap.

Like a tsunami you feel your orgasm crash over you, leaving you in another astral plane. Blissfully, and proudly, Jake helped you ride out the high on his tongue and fingers. He slowly retracted them, leaving you painfully empty. You need him. Right here, right now.

Jake quickly rose to his feet, his pants and boxers were already lost on the deck of the ship, presumably, he was touching himself while getting you off. He takes your hips and pulls them towards his painfully hard erection while stroking himself for a moment's relief. “Can I fuck you? Please bab-” “Yes, for the love of god Jake just fuck me-” His hardness slammed into you, quick and hard. A painfully obvious moan ripped through you, you can only pray that the rest of the crew were too drunk to wake up and overhear.

“God I love you, sweetheart.”

The world stopped for a brief moment. And although he was still pounding into you mercilessly, you could only feel what you believed to be whatever would be the closest to feeling your heart exploding and repairing itself again.

“I love you too.” and you did, more than you could ever admit to even yourself. You could see it in Jake’s eyes, the realization of what he confessed. A smile bright as the sun quickly appeared across his face. He mashed his lips into yours begging for some sort of release - anything. And all he could think of was you. Just simply you.

Jake’s pounds became more sloppy and hard. His moans quickened and turned into slight whimpers here and there. “Give me one more baby.” He made quick work of rubbing his thumb on your clit. You didn’t even know it before you were putty in his hands again. His hips stuttered to a stop, accompanied by his sweet sweet cries of pleasure, truly the best kind of music. You both found yourself slowly riding out an infinite high. He leaned you back on the deck, slowly pulling out of you with a sigh, making quick work of finding your dress and helping it back over your skin. He got himself back into his boxers and pants quickly too, then stopped in front of you, placing a hand on your cheek.

“Did you mean it?” was all you heard, timid, but loud enough to make you feel like you found the fountain of youth. You place your hand on his cheek, a connection between the both of you.

“Of course I did. I always will,” you whisper into the void with him. He was your reality now, and that, to you, is the ultimate comfort.

You watch as he smiles against your cheek, leaning back into you for another kiss. But it was different. Somehow the same method but the feeling felt like you were strewn across the night sky, as the stars and the moon. Intertwined with a unique love you could only get from him.

He breaks apart for you, locking eyes with you once more. You both let out a tiny laugh of your own. “Well, that was fun.” He confessed. “It’s always meant to be” you answer. Laughs plague the two of you for a brief moment.

“You know what they say right?”

“What?”

“Sex with our kind is always the best, after all…” he trailed off, stopping what sounded like needed to be continued.

“After all, what, Jake?” you laugh.

“We’re pirates, bitch!”

#gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet #sam kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka #greta van fic #gvf smut #gvf slash #jake gvf #josh gvf #sam gvf #danny gvf #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #yourmomsgarlicbread writes

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joshym · 4 months

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Prettiest in the Morning

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Jake is worth being late to work for.

Word Count: 2.3k +

Warnings: smut, (18+ ONLY) sweet morning sex with Jake, unprotected p in v, a little cock warming, fluff fluff & more fluff. tooth-rotting sweetness.

a/n: this was born purely from this wonderful request. enjoy, my loves.

"Call out today, honey. They don't need you as bad as I do."

-☼-

The incessant screaming of your morning alarm penetrates your dream state as your eyes slowly begin to open.

The sun's morning rays pay no mind to your blinds, peeking through them with a strength that makes it difficult for your eyes to adjust right away.

Through a squint, you take a look at your clock to catch the time.

6:45am

A drawn out sigh escapes your lips as you rub what’s left of your slumber from your eyes.

You roll your tired body over to see your lovely Jake, his mouth parted sweetly and carrying the faintest of snores. He’s still fast asleep as he’s cozily wrapped in your fluffy duvet. You smile at his soft, sleepy features that beckon you to stay tangled up with him.

But, alas, you must leave him. You have to be at work by 8:00am, much to your disdain.

You lean down to plant quiet kisses on your sleeping beauty. His eyelids, his nose, his lips– he stirs the slightest bit, a lethargic grin curling from the corners of his mouth. But his eyes stay shut, drawing him back into his deep rest.

You stretch your stiff limbs as you reluctantly pull yourself away from the warm covers.

Why must your bed be the comfiest when it’s time to get out of it? A question for the ages, no doubt.

You try your best to be as quiet as possible so as to not wake him. Lifted on the very tips of your toes, you pad across the cold wooden floor to your closet.

You shuffle through the threads set aside in a special section designated for your work clothes. You’re usually very meticulous in picking your daily work attire, but today, you just don’t have the interest for it.

Your arms feel extra heavy as you reach them over your head to grab the first blouse and pair of slacks you see. Your oversized sleep shirt (one of Jakes, of course) rises up just enough that you feel the cold, morning air against the bare skin of your thong clad ass that sends a chill up your spine. Yet another cruel reminder of how badly you wish to be in the warm bed, with Jake's body heat radiating on you like your own personal space heater.

You pull the garments from their hangers and tiptoe back to your room, stopping at your dresser as you set your clothes on the chair next to it.

You pull your shirt off, hissing at the cold air that hits your nearly naked form. Goosebumps appear on every inch of your chilled skin; your nipples harden instantly from the brisk temperature of your room. Jake has an affinity for keeping the room cool. You don’t mind it as long as you're snuggled up next to him in your bed, but it’s rather unpleasant when you’re not soaking up his warm body.

You can’t begin your day without moisturizing your skin. As cold as you are, you refuse to get dressed without lotioning up properly.

You take the nearest bottle and begin lathering yourself up with the vanilla scented cream. You prop your leg up on the chair your clothes are waiting for you on, running the slick blam over your calf and all the way up to the top of your thigh. You put that leg down and as you begin to work on the next, you hear a deep breath coming from the direction of the bed behind you.

You stall your movements, hoping you didn’t wake him.

But as you slowly turn your body around, you're met with his drowsy eyes fixed on you. His arms rest above his head and one bare leg sits atop the covers. Sprawled out beautifully and rather invitingly with a gorgeous smirk across his pink lips.

“Jake. I’m so sorry, baby. I tried not to wake you,” you softly mutter while you set the lotion bottle back on the dresser. “I hope you haven’t been awake long.”

He turns on his side and props his head up with one arm, keeping his heavy eyes on you. “You shouldn’t be sorry, lovely. I’m getting the show of a lifetime.”

You giggle as you grab your slacks and begin putting them on. But as you step the first foot in, Jake quickly interrupts you.

“No, no, don’t do that just yet. C’mere first.”

You can’t deny his pretty eyes, so you stop what you’re doing and walk over to him. He sits up to meet you, hands gently wrapping around your hips as you stand before him.

His face is so close; you feel each shallow breath against the exposed skin of your stomach, only intensifying the goosebumps already there from the cold.

“You’re the prettiest in the morning, you know that?” His eyes are locked with yours as he leans in to connect his lips just above your belly button. “And you smell so good, my sweet vanilla cupcake.”

You want to melt into him, to render yourself completely under his heated touch against your cold body.

You weave your fingers in his tangled locks while he continues to pepper the sweetest, laziest kisses against your tummy.

But reality suddenly sets in. You look to the clock once more; 7:05am.

With traffic being the worst during the morning rush, you’ll have to leave in no less than twenty minutes if you want to be at work on time. Even then, that’s a stretch.

“Baby, I have to get ready. I don’t want to be late,” you say through hitched breaths.

He hums into your skin, the warm vibration sending a flash of arousal to your core as you're mentally cursing the fact that you have to put an end to this so you can finish getting ready.

But just as you begin to do so, he quickly pulls you closer to him as he falls back on the bed and drags you on top of him.

You both get caught in a fit of giggles with the way he so perfectly calculated his movements so that your bodies would end up this way.

“Jakey,” you say through a breathless laugh, “I have to get ready for work. I really don’t want to be late.”

He takes your face in his hands, pulling it close to his and deeply kissing your lips. You can’t help but deepen it even further. He knows your weaknesses, and kissing him is number one on your list.

His velvety soft lips, the taste of his tongue, the way he nibbles ever so slightly on your lips— you find yourself craving his kisses more often than not.

His fingertips gently glide over your shoulders, down your arched back, stopping at the rounded curve of your ass. He squeezes the flesh in his hands while you begin to grind yourself on his hardened cock beneath your now soaked core.

He pulls his mouth away, leaving you chasing after him for more.

His blown out irises meet yours, a sly smile splayed on his kiss-swollen mouth.

“Just call out today, honey. They don’t need you as bad as I do.”

Before you can oppose, he flips you both over so he’s now on top of you.

“My sweet, beautiful girl. So pretty in the forenoon gleam,” he says, looking at you with eyes that say more words than his mouth ever could. A look that makes you feel as if you’re the only woman in his world. His fingers brush along the side of your cheek as you lean into his hand. “How could you ever make the grueling trek to work and depart from me?”

If you had it your way, you’d never leave him. Even for something as normal as going to your eight to five.

No; if you could, you’d stay here. Just like this, for the rest of your conceivable days.

“I love you, my sexy poetic lover,” you tell him. “But if you want me to keep my job, I simply must make the grueling tre—“

He promptly cuts you off with another kiss, gentle and sugary. Taking his time to enjoy the taste of you, and you’re quite enjoying it yourself— so much so that the time feels mute. It’s stopped completely, as far as you’re concerned.

He ruts his hips into your core, his hard cock rubbing against you, stealing your breath.

His kiss becomes more fervent, more hungry. Like he’s utterly starved for you.

You reciprocate right back. Your body craves his to be as connected with yours as humanly possible.

He breaks away, hovering his lips just above yours. Close enough that they brush over yours ever so softly.

“Can I show you how much I love you?” he asks in a hushed whisper. He sounds desperate, like his need for you is as dire as if his entire life depended on it.

You reach down between your bodies and tug his strained boxers down, then move your panties to the side, gasping at the crisp air of your room hitting your drenched center.

“Please, baby,” you mutter, nearly breathless at your unbridled need for him.

He smiles against your mouth while lining himself up with you, running his tip through your quivering folds. “That’s my pretty girl,” he says against your parted mouth. “Gonna take it slow and gentle, okay? Just wanna make you feel good, baby doll.”

He takes his time entering you, letting you feel every inch as he slowly glides all the way inside while you both sign in absolute relief.

His hips move in long and drawn out strides, allowing his cock slowly pump in and out of you.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily, whispering sweet nothings in the shell of your ear.

He fills you so wonderfully and completely. The slightest bit of a sting present, but only in the most elating and erotic way.

“You’re so warm, baby doll,” he says, his lips ghosting over your tingling skin. “So perfect and tight. My beautiful sweetheart with the most pretty pussy.”

You wrap your legs tight around his back, keeping him as close to you as you can while his pace picks up just enough that your blissful end is just on the horizon.

“Jake, baby. You feel s- so good inside me. Right where you belong,” you mumble through staggered breaths.

You reach your hands to his sturdy shoulders, digging your nails in his damp skin. He whimpers in your ear, a sound you’ve come to realize is your absolute favorite.

“Yeah— this is where I belong, baby doll. Tucked away inside, just like this.” He stills himself inside you, his twitching cock causing you to flutter as he rests against your sweet spot. “I feel you, honey. Squeezing me like that, you’re so close. Can you give it to me?”

He lifts his thumb up to your mouth, and you instantly open up for him. He places it inside and you swirl your tongue around the pad just a little before he pulls it back out.

His wet thumb slides slowly down your body. He lifts himself up just a bit to reach for your throbbing clit, toying with it in gentle circles as he begins pumping in and out of you at an agonizing pace.

“Right there, baby, right there,” you muster in high pitched whines.

He leans in to meet your lips once more, and that is all it takes for your body to succumb.

You’re crashing hard into your wave of pleasure, your cunt pulses and throbs around him. Your back arches completely off the bed, your breathing labored and deep.

“There you go, baby doll,” His voice is low, his words raspy and faltered. “Gonna paint you nice and pretty, okay love?”

He pulls himself out, stroking his cock covered in your slick. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes roll in the back of his head.

He finishes all over your tummy. His warm cum feels like a blanket against your skin. His moans become almost uncontrolled, those beautiful noises that are prettier than any ballad.

He falls against you, his heaving chest colliding gently with yours.

“I love you, my perfect girl,” he whispers into your neck. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“I love you, Jakey.”

You brush your fingers through his hair, taming his disheveled length. You breathe him in deeply to savor this beautiful morning with him. You wish it could be like this always, that nothing could ever come between the two of you. Not even a job.

Shit.

Your job. You completely forgot.

You snap your head over to look at the clock, scared to be met with reality.

7:49am

“Oh fuck!” you yell. “I’m late for work!”

You kiss the crown of his head before he moves off of you. You jump up to get cleaned up, realizing that no matter how quick you move, you’ll never make it on time.

“Hey baby,” Jake says. “You know it’s Saturday, right?”

You stop dead in your tracks. There’s no way you forgot what day it was.

You take your phone off the nightstand and turn the screen on to check.

Sure enough, it’s fucking Saturday. Your day off.

“Jake! Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask as you shamefully drop your head in your hand.

He giggles sweetly, forcing a smile to soften your irritated features. “Well, because now I know you’d rather be here with me than at your silly old job.”

You toss your phone back on the nightstand and lay back down next to him, playfully smacking his biceps.

“That’s a risky game, Jacob.”

He chuckles he rolls you over on top of him. “I love you, baby doll.”

taglist:

@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @stardustcordzz @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @iffypanic @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @kiszkashousee @psychedelicsprinkles @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @livkiszka@jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @torniturntomyarrow @welllauragvf @writingcold @heckingfrick @itsafullmoon @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @gretavansara

a/n: feel free to send me more requests! this was so fun. :')

if you'd like to be added to my taglists, let me know or fill out this form & i'll be sure to add you.🤍

as always, don't don't be afraid to let me know what you think! love you guys.

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf fanfic #gvf fics #gvf smut #greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka fluff

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gretavanlace · 1 month

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Hush

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only Minors do not interact

Warnings: graphic sexual content, dirty talk, choking, light degradation, praise, slight dom/sub/switch dynamic, language, etc

Josh is vocal.

That is certainly no secret.

Anyone who has watched him strut about a stage, microphone in hand, knows that.

Off stage, he talks incessantly about both the things that matter to him, and the mundane. Things he is passionate about. Things that light fires within him and drive him to create and pack this world as full of his heart as he possibly can. Arbitrary ideas and notions. Strange ponderings.

Pontification, he likes to call it.

He’s also vocally boisterous when agitated. He loathes waiting, and will mutter complaints near your ear in line until you’re willing your eyes not to roll. A phone call to vent about the antics of one brother or another from the studio is a regular occurrence and can be counted on just like death and taxes.

“Samuel was even later than I was,” he might huff, “and now Jake’s guitar needs to be restrung because fuck this whole world if he has to use a backup. I hate them, and I want to come home to you, light of my life, keeper of the stars, goddess of all that is— oh, we’re ready…gotta go.”

Josh murmurs in his sleep, sings in the shower, talks himself through menial tasks, hums in the grocery store, carries on one-sided conversations with the cat who simply chirps along while swirling around his ankles.

At least twice a night he snatches you from drifting off to sleep with a question: Do you think I should call my mom more? If I miss her, she must miss me. Or, Did I ever tell you about that time that Jake ate shit and fell in the lake? I was thinking about it today, and…

Random thoughts and idle musings he can’t help but verbalize, you hear them all. Mostly. The ones you aren’t privy to, fall upon the nearest ear - but he’s so fucking charming even a stranger is happy to play sounding board.

Josh is also expressive when you’re wrapped up in soft, linen sheets…or wherever else he’s decided he can no longer wait to have you.

Whispers of devotion swelling like a gentle breeze across the hum of your pulse when he makes love to you. Filthy, dirty, blush-inducing declarations when he’s fucking into your trembling body like he’ll never touch it again.

And you love it…all of it. But now - with your visiting sister slumbering in the guest room on the other side of the wall - is certainly not the time.

“Baby, please…” his mouth is sucking gently along your collarbone as he grinds into you slowly, friction hard and constant against your greedy, swollen clit, “let me fuck you faster…c’mon, I need it.”

”What you need, is to be quiet,” your voice is a stern whisper, but your hands are tender in his hair.

He could easily set a pace as brutal as he desired if he felt inclined to disobey…but, ever the sweetest switch, he has opted to play nice tonight.

”I’ll be quiet,” he promises. It is a lie he truly believes, and to prove that point, you clench around him and draw forth a pitiful groan from deep within his chest.

A swift pinch at his side serves as punishment ”Shut. Up.”

”Fuck you,” he sounds deliciously desperate, “You did that on purpose. Squeezing me with that beautiful pussy…goddamn.”

”What’s going to happen if I let you make me cum? Hmm?” Your mouth falls into a delicate pout as if you just feel so sorry for him, “You know how tight I get. How I just hug your cock all snug and wet…”

”And warm,” he adds, lost in it, daydreaming in the dark of night and twitching inside the embrace of your cunt, “Soft as satin, sucking me right in…oh my god, baby, please.”

He begins moving with more purpose, dragging the head of his cock against that lovely little spot that will render you incoherent if you allow it to.

”Oh my god, please,” you mock quietly, “Look at you Joshua, what a whiny baby. What are you begging for? Pussy? Is that what you need?”

He nods frantically against your sternum, as though he doesn’t trust himself to look up at you.

You feign confusion wickedly “But you’ve got that. You’re already inside me…”

“Faster,” he breathes, biting and mouthing at your shoulder now, “Need it faster, and harder. It’s too slow, I need more.”

Clicking your tongue like he is a poor, pathetic sight to behold, you shake your head, “Slow down.”

”No, please don’t make me,” he slows, as instructed, but trails off with a whimper.

So, maybe there’s no ‘like’ about it, maybe he really is a poor, pathetic sight to behold. Yes, you decide, that’s exactly what he is…

…so why not push him even further?

With a swift tug on the roots of his curls, you issue an order ”Stay still.”

Despondent and mournful, he groans into the crook of your neck and grabs at your hips so tightly you’ll be admiring raspberry bruises in the mirror come morning. “C’mon, baby girl…lemme take it. I fucking want it.”

If he were looking at you, he’d see the devilish gleam in your eye. Aren’t you an awful witch tonight? “What? Don’t you like it when I keep your pretty cock warm for you?”

He flexes hard inside of you, simply to gain even a hint of friction. “You’re being so fucking mean.”

”Mean?” You coil around the throbbing length of him and he shudders out the tiniest sound, “If I was mean, I’d lock your pretty cock in a cage and fuck your face all night.”

For a moment, he shirks his submissive edge and hisses in your ear, low and slow, “Liar. Not with little sister in the next room…you couldn’t keep quiet with my face between your legs if someone fucking paid you to.”

In response, you shove him back and roll until your thighs are locked around his waist, the crown of his cock nestled against your clit as your hips swivel heated circles.

”Does that feel good, baby?” You’re taunting him cruelly while, in contrast, lovingly reaching up to smooth the furrow from his brow. “Does that just feel so good?”

”Wanna put it back inside,” his eyes squint shut and anyone who didn’t know better might think his expression is that of suffering. “Perfect fucking cunt, so tight, so…”

”Shh,” you quiet him with a hand wrapped around his throat, relishing the way his adam’s apple slides against your palm when he swallows hard, “shut your mouth for once.”

He’s staring up at you, wide-eyed and needy, like you painted the stars in the sky, gorgeous and glittering, just for him…and how you wish that were true. How you wish you could give him something so profound. Something worthy of his light.

”I won’t make a sound,” his vow sounds out, a cross between the honesty he wishes it to be rooted in, and the lie he knows it to be. “C’mon baby, please…fuck me sweet.”

Does he really want it sweet? Or is he simply aware that that’s all he is capable of quietly handling?

Likely the latter.

Your fingers have found your nipples, twisting and tugging on them as they tighten into pink pebbles that send shivers crawling down into your stomach with every pull. His eyes lock in on you, watching you tease them as his breathing kicks up into a frenzy.

“You’re pushing it,” he warns, grip pulling you down closer as he rocks his hips up to meet you. “Keep it up and I’m gonna fucking take it. Be a good girl now, baby…I’m done with your shit.”

”Yeah?” Your eyebrow raises in silent challenge. Does he have it in him tonight?

“Yeah.” He nods, licking his thumb to swirl much too gently across your clit.

”I think you should just behave and be grateful for what you’re—“

Stunned and dazed, the room blurs around you as you’re flipped and tossed until your cheek is pressed against the cool, crisp sheets. They smell of him, and you breathe Josh in until your lungs ache while his cock teases at your entrance from behind.

His body folds over yours until his lips sweep the shell of your ear, “You’ve done it now, baby girl. Better be quiet, yeah? Not a sound.”

With a swift snap of his hips, the silken glide of his cock fills you full as his palm presses against your lips to muffle the high-pitched moan that gasps out of you.

”Now who’s the whiny baby?” his perfect teeth sink into your earlobe and tug until it blooms with heat. The moan that seeps into his soft skin causes his lips to curl into a smirk you can feel. “This is what you wanted, you think I don’t know that?”

He has begun moving at an excruciatingly slow place, the head of his cock dragging gently inside you just right…but you need more.

”You think I didn’t know that you wanted me to just fucking take it all along?”

You nod urgently, tangling your hair against the pillowcase. Of course he knew, he knows you better than you know yourself. There are no secrets to be hidden away when it comes to Joshua. He hunts each and every one down like glittering treasure with ease…your body his map, the pools of your eyes ciphers he decodes without even trying.

His tongue is dancing its way along your jaw now, springing chills to life upon your flushed skin ”Tell me how good my cock feels and I’ll fuck you full.”

Another woeful sound shakes out of you and a rumbling, gravelly laugh huffs warm against your cheek, “My poor, sweet baby can dish it just fine tonight, but she can’t take it? Is that it?”

With a shhh that makes you feel weighed down heavy with lust, he lifts his palm away from your mouth. “I can take it,” you promise in a hush, “Please…I can take it, I swear.”

He is so still inside you, but the familiar stretch is enough to send a tremble tripping up your spine, spider-cracking like a jolt of electric pleasure. “But can you take it quietly? Can you be a real good girl or should I gag you like a whore?”

”I’ll be a good girl,” you breathe, relishing the sound that slips out of him, a cross between famished desire and worshipful devotion.

“Yeah?” He’s enjoying this little game too much to wave goodbye to it just yet, “You’ll be a good girl if I give you this cock?” He presses in so deeply there’s nothing left for him to give, “You’ll take it quietly and squeeze it nice and tight? Soak it with your little wet cunt when I make you cum?”

He can feel you clenching already, twisting around him like a fist, milking him, pulling him in, starved for more.

”Yes, yes, yes,” you chant softly, begging for him to get on with it, “Just fuck me, Josh…please,”

There’s that sinful mouth of his again, ghosting over your ear, “Just fuck me Josh,” he mocks in a velvet whisper, “Please.”

A sob escapes you and turns the apples of your cheeks pink…he echoes the sound back to you and fans the flames of your delectable shame.

”Quiet now, baby…” he reminds you, tone taunting and laced with self-satisfaction, “You just bite down on the pillow if it gets to be too much, and I’ll bite down on you.”

You tighten around him at the mere thought of it and tug an achingly gorgeous grunt from deep within his chest, “You like that? You want me to bite you to keep quiet? Mark you up all pretty?”

”Fuck…” you reach back and grab for him, fingers sinking into the curve of his waist, begging for it with your entire body.

You can’t seem to manage much more, but it’s enough for him, and with a swift pull back, he snaps his hips hard and fast and sets a relentlessly feral pace in motion.

The head of his cock, thick and suede-soft, kisses your cervix with each inward push, driving a wild sound out of you that you smother into the pillow, tongue dragging against the worn cotton as though it were his mouth.

His teeth are peppering your back and shoulders, gnashing his own moans way down deep into your flesh where you will secret them away forever. He gifts each sound to you on a gorgeous, stinging platter and you only want more, more, more. It is never enough with him…you are gluttonous for whatever he sees fit to offer.

”You feel so fucking good, baby,” it comes undulating across your cheekbone like a warm, languorous breeze, “So fucking wet, I can feel you all over me. You’re gonna make me cum.”

He grows impossibly hard within you and that, along with the filth he is sighing into the night and the drags of his teeth, sends you careening over the edge you had no idea you were so close to. You explode around him, and his weight grows heavier atop you as his thrusts lose rhythm.

“That’s it,” his praise is clipped and winded, “just - fuck - just like that. Keep going, so tight, messy pretty fucking pussy, make me cum, baby, please…make me fucking cum.”

He’s babbling like a brook you want to lie beside and listen to for the rest of your life. So beautiful. So Josh. But so quietly, and you know how difficult it must be for him, how hard he must be trying, and you love him all the more for it.

With a final, vicious bite, he coaxes a hiss out of you that makes him see stars as he lets go, fucking himself deeper and deeper as he rides it out, moans pressed into your glazed, shivering body like flowers in between the pages of a book.

And still, you only want more. You want his jaw to lock, his teeth to break the skin, to draw blood, to scar you…soft pink, raised marks tattooed by his kiss to remind you.

A long sigh flutters your hair, and your eyes drift closed at the soothing lilt of the sound as his fingers begin to card through your hair.

”You thirsty, baby?” His nose nuzzles at you, drawing forth a lazy smile that is half smashed into the pillow.

“Yes, but stay a little longer.”

He cuddles down into you, cheek to cheek, the weight of his body keeping you warm and safe in the silence.

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jaketsparrow · 2 months

Text

SOMETHING... | JTK

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 10.6K

Summary: When you have to say goodbye to your professor and mentor, a cocky young professor steps in, Jacob Kiskza. Literature used to be your safe place, but now you feel him getting involved in every corner; it doesn’t help that you’re his TA. You deny yourself every opportunity to fall for him until…

A/N: Hi guys :) I know it’s been forever since I’ve put something together and I apologize about that, but this is life. This one has been on my mind since the Grammy U interview and I finally had the idea to put it all together. I hope you enjoy :)

Playlist

*Also I'm so sorry I lost my tag list so if you want to be tagged here's a new form* Taglist

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), talks about death/grief, angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, choking, alcohol use, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, ~some~ degrading, praise kink!, I’m sorry if I missed anything, but, etc, it’s filth.

The classroom was cold in the early months of the year. You had gotten in the habit of wearing your coat through the 3-hour seminar. You were lucky that this class only ran once a week, but you often had to stay longer than the students, working with the professor for a few hours afterward. He was always elusive. Always eager to get things done as fast as possible; efficient and snappy.

There was much to admire about him, but his personality often left you rolling your eyes. He always seemed a bit too sure about himself, always being the tough grader, pushing students further than they were willing to go. He cared a lot, especially about the subject matter. He still had that gusto in him to do things right, to be stern.

He was new to the program; and before this, only about a year into teaching. You studied under his predecessor. She was a kinder old woman who cared deeply for you, like your mother away from home. She taught you everything- and even got you to change majors during your sophomore year. She supplemented your reading supplies, nurtured your abilities, and was always willing to sit in deep conversation with you. Discussing the classics, introducing modern pieces, talking about life, talking about it all.

Professor Kiszka on the other hand…

When he took over for Professor Meelo, he took very little time to rip the bandaid off. When you had originally been promised a TA position in the literature department, you were expected to be under your mentor, not a cocky white man.

You spent weeks crying during winter break after first meeting him. The day you met him didn’t go exactly as you hoped. It was the week of finals when you found out Meelo was sick, and that she was stepping away from teaching. As if finals week wasn’t stressful enough, you had to come to terms with the fact that the woman who taught you everything was going to be leaving this world sooner than you would’ve thought. It was even more of a punch in the gut to walk into your introduction meeting to see… him.

3 Months Ago

The walk across campus felt heavier than usual. The winter had been harsher than it usually was in early December. The wind whipped across your bare rosy cheeks, causing freezing tears to slowly fall out of the corners of your eyes. Almost like a bad omen, the weather continued to get worse as you sludged your way across the quad.

The parking lot was nearly a mile away from campus, which was nice during the warmer months; the trees would sway across the crosswalk, blessing the sidewalk with fallen flowers and leaves. The grass was green and lively, a welcome mat onto a wonderful learning home. Between the cracks of the stone walkways, little dandelions would grow. You never understood the people who thought them to be unnecessary weeds. They were bright and yellow lively plants, and when the time of beauty passed, they passed their good wishes onto you. Blowing what once were vibrant petals into the wind. Who knew you’d miss the weeds on your walks?

Instead, now the stones were smeared with remnants of snowy footprints, broken earth that had been cracked through with the force of shovels, and the remnants of the dead earth.

Meelo called you just last week. You begged to go see her in the hospital, but she didn’t want you to worry too much. She agreed to call you every other day, just like your usual coffee arrangements. She loved them just as much as you did. She never had a husband or any children. Her students were her children, her soul was fed enough through changing lives that she didn’t want to take away that love from her students or prevent any child from feeling all of it. You were not the first to bear their soul in her office, but you might be one of the last.

Meelo begged you to go meet the new professor. You had tried to rescind your TA position, but she blocked you at every chance she got. Even while in hospice she still managed to look out for you…

“Please, sweetheart. I know it’s not easy. But he’s young, he’s smart, I think you’ll have a lot in common with him,” She pleaded through the phone.

“But he’s not you. I just, I thought… I thought I’d have more time…” Your voice trailed off.

You tried to hold the phone away from your face, trying not to distress her more with the sounds of your whimpers and tears.

Her voice started again, “You never know what you will learn from him. You have more time with me, but there comes a time when a teacher must share her students for them to learn more. If we stayed in our echo chamber together my dear I’m afraid you wouldn’t learn everything you need to know. Jacob is going to be a great professor, and I know you will learn a lot from him. His research and analysis work is quite extensive. The school and I hired him for a reason. Please. Just give it a try. For me.”

“Just for you.”

And here you were trudging through, feeling every bone in your body telling you to turn around, to go home. But you were doing this not for you, you reminded yourself. For Meelo. She was right, you latched on to her from your early years in college and favored her over all of your other professors. They were kind and nice as well, but it didn’t matter to you in the end, if they weren’t Meelo, they were never going to compare.

The building seemed colder than usual. The large glass windows were covered by their shades; no one wanted to see the gross state of life outside of the classroom. That’s hardly motivating to any student, the fluorescents would give more life than the grey state of the weather.

You pull the door open, walk through the entryway, and follow your usual path down the hallway to Meelo’s room.

The thing about old colleges, everywhere you turn is a little piece of history. Each room has housed many professors and many students. The building had life, had ghosts of its own hidden in each brick, in each stone. You felt the comfort of this presence moving through the hallway.

You stop right before Meelo’s room, catching your breath before you enter. Trying to have an open mind. Kiszka could be something, or he could just be another man throwing words at you. Not that all men were the same, but a majority of the male professors here were lackluster, favoring the male students and the athletes who needed the better grades to stay in the school. And if they favored the women… You always felt a cold chill thinking about that. Thinking about why…

One last deep breath before you enter the classroom. You grab tight onto the handle of your tote bag and strut confidently into the room.

It was empty.

The beautiful artwork and posters that Meelo had filling the room were stripped. Revealing the natural state of the architecture. It was beautiful in its own way but didn’t feel like the educational home you once felt so blessed to be in. The desks were all shoved to one side of the classroom. The previous welcoming U-shape was demolished, instead providing a cluttered destruction of Meelo’s work.

You stood awestruck in the shape of the room. There was no time wasted between Meelo leaving and Kiszka starting to make his mark on the room. The bookshelves that used to be filled in the back of the room had been emptied and their contents sat on the floor in boxes.

You walk over to the boxes, kneeling to gently sift through the carelessly placed books. This was Meelo’s library that she had collected for the classroom. Take a book, leave a book, borrow a book, bring it back. You loved visiting this wall every week, seeing what books your peers were interested in, and which books made their way into the library. Some new, and some returning after long months away.

Sitting on top of the box was the classic “Brave New World”. Aldous Huxley. 1932. Not an original copy, but a new binding. It was like the universe was sending you signs. This would be a brave new world. A world where you might have to come to terms with the fact that Meelo would not be in your life forever. A world where you might have to figure out everything with a new mentor. A world where you thought you would have years to work on your pieces with a woman who understood you, but now you would turn over your heartfelt pieces to a man. One who may not understand you the same as someone else does.

“A favorite of yours?” A voice perks up from the doorway.

You turn to see him. Your eyes work your way up his figure. He’s wearing Chelsea boots, black thick linen pants, a white loose shirt with a black vest, and a dress coat over it. His chestnut hair lays over the shoulders of the coat, and his eyes are covered by circular gold-rimmed sunglasses. He oozes mystery. His arms crossed, surveying your crouched body by the boxes. You hate to admit it, but he may be one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen.

You hold up the book towards him, displaying the cover.

“Not particularly. I don’t like thinking about the takeover of technology. It feels too real right now.” You respond.

He wanders over to you, taking his time, each step creating the most annoying echo in the emptied classroom. He reaches his hand out to yours, asking silently for the book. You hand it over to him and stand to match his level.

He passes the book between his hands, admiring the binds, “Ah, yes, but perhaps something can be learned from the book if more understood its warning… if only more read it…”

“If only…” You let the conversation trail off. Your eyes wander back to the pile of desks on the opposite wall. You feel yourself zoning out, focused only on the change of the room, not on the man in front of you.

“-Your favorite?” He asks.

You snap back to the conversation, trying to recall the beginning of his question, “I’m sorry?

“If this is not your favorite, can I ask which is?” He waves you to walk with him.

You follow him into the office at the back of the classroom. He sits in Meelo’s chair, and you sit in the chair that had held you so many times. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cushion had a you-shaped imprint in it at this point.

He asks a third time, “You don’t seem like the Jane Eyre or Louisa May student, so what is it?”

You let your bag fall off your shoulder and you try to sit up in the chair, asserting some sort of professionalism. Your answer will hold some sort of judgment for him. Although you want to be offended by his comment about the female author’s classics, he’s right. They were never your favorite.

“Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Meelo gave it to me as my first assignment.” You respond, confident in your answer.

He nods in approval, “Lovely choice, very telling. Meelo said you were very bright–one for the classics.”

He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin. His hand reaches up to the gold-rims and pulls them off, clattering onto the desk. He pulls himself towards the desk, resting his elbows on the table.

“Are you going to ask me mine?” He asks, almost presumptuously.

You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he has to find a way to be important here. You adjust yourself in your seat, crossing your arms in the process.

“If you want me to know, why don’t you just say it?” You retort.

He chuckles to himself, “Lord of the Rings.”

Your mouth falls so far open that you’re afraid a fly might buzz its way in. You lift your hand to your mouth and try to hide your disapproval.

“That’s a classic for sure.” You reply, “Not one I would’ve expected from a college literature professor, but a classic nonetheless.”

He pushes himself off the desk, running his hands through his long locks before they make their way onto the arms of the seat.

“You don’t approve?” He scoffs.

“I didn’t say that, I just said it’s not one that I would expect.”

“I believe there is a difference between a personal and professional favorite. A favorite you could read over and over again, and you could enjoy without having to think too much about what it all means. it’s an adventure, its heroes and legends, it’s a call for relaxation and enjoyment. I’d rather have my favorite be a well-known classic than a deep thought-provoking story about purity.”

You fight every urge in you to slap the man sitting before you for disgracing such a beautiful novel. But you think about Meelo. You think about stepping outside of the echo chamber.

“I think we may have different opinions on favorites, Professor Kiszka.” You say shortly.

You feel the tension grow between you already. This would be a difficult semester. Even more difficult because as you felt your dislike for him grow, you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful man sitting in front of you. His brown eyes stared deep into you, trying to assess his new assistant. You tried not to let him in too far. You were not fawning for him, at least you weren’t trying to. You wanted to fight off the growing warmth crying to spread through you. It was like seeing a handsome stranger in the bar; you knew the danger, but almost didn’t want to let yourself protect your heart.

He was by far the youngest professor here, and the most eligible. No ring was on his finger.

“Please, call me Jacob.”

You stood up from your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You try to compose yourself enough not to let any distaste escape from your lips.

“Sorry, Professor Kiszka, I have finals I need to finish, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you in January. If you need anything from me before then, I believe the dean gave you my information.”

You reach your hand out awkwardly, trying to invite a handshake. He cautiously reaches his hand back, pulling you into a firm, but still gentle handshake.

His eyes meet yours. The deep brown staring into you. Although you should have the power from your standing position, you knew he held all the cards from his seat. The handshake lingered longer than you had expected, both of you locked deep into staring each other down. He finally releases his hand.

“It was a pleasure.” You start to leave the office, but he makes one last remark, “Oh, one last thing…”

You turn to face him, “Yes professor?”

He reaches into the desk and pulls out a cloth-bound book, handing it to you. You slowly return to the desk, taking the book from his hand—the Lord of the Rings.

“Try it for me? You do have a whole winter break…”

You rub your hands over the cover, smiling at his request. You place the book back in his hand.

“I used to read it as a child. No need to give it a try when you’ve read it four times already.” You smile at him.

Even if it wasn’t your favorite, didn’t mean it wasn’t a favorite.

Present

In some ways, your relationship with him felt like a love-lost marriage. Just moving through the motions. You sat in on the classes and took note of who engaged, and who didn’t. You graded assignments, tests, and papers, with him always double-checking and doubting your work. You didn’t sit in on long conversations with him like Meelo. Perhaps some of that was your fault, always quick to get to work. He adjusted to you quickly, understanding how you needed to work, and letting you grieve.

Meelo passed quickly into the semester. You cried once in front of him when the news broke. You nearly snapped his head off when he asked if he could help you. From that moment on he took on this cold persona, but you don’t blame him at all. You knew in your heart that you would not have the same connection with him as Meelo, so it was easier to never try.

Through everything, your work never faltered, and your school work remained the priority. Perhaps it was a way to hide through all the pain but the calculated steps it took to grade provided a soothing rhythm amongst the distress.

You never failed to notice all the times you caught him catching glances at you. You were silly to think that it meant anything more than just a quick look, but still maybe somewhere in your heart, you had hoped that maybe he was thinking of you more than his assistant. For weeks you watched him stroll into class, always wearing a disheveled but somehow put-together outfit. You loved seeing how he would piece together different clothes from his collection. Never repeating an exact outfit, but always finding new ways to repurpose the same items.

One day he walked in with a new addition to his look, a cluster of pendants on a necklace. They looked older, more worn in than any new silver. You asked him about it briefly, trying not to engage in a further conversation.

“They’re coins, Spanish coins, designed after ones from the 1600s. I think the jeweler lied to me when he said they were originals, but they still look okay… Do you think so?

“You look like a pirate.” You responded.

A sexy pirate. You shoved that thought deep into the back of your mind. Holding on to it, because you didn’t want to forget how good he looked.

His Thursday classes were always one of the better ones. This was one that you had to take yourself for your graduate program. There was no TA’ing involved as that would be a huge conflict of interest if you got to grade your papers. You chose to sit in the back corner of the class by the window, in hopes that when spring rolls around you could watch the foliage return. The unfortunate thing about this choice was the waiting. February was colder than you had expected and the windows provided no warmth.

When you were TA’ing you got to sit at the edge of the office and the classroom. Kiszka brought a space heater for you to place at the doorway. He joked he didn’t need his assistant ‘freezing to death’, because then ‘who would grade the papers’.

You tried your hardest to not let him favor you, but you knew he was someone who would be kind no matter how much you asked him to stop. He would leave books on the edge of his desk for you to read and when you tried to return them he declined and told you he already had a copy in his collection. You doubted that and always protested in fear that you thought you might lead him on. But in the end, it was always you walking out with a new book in your bag.

He was trying his hardest to get along with you. Some days it was easier and you would entertain his questions, but other days it was easier to be quick and move along. This relationship was not going to be a fairytale. You had already found your soulmate once, and you lost her. In your mind, there was no more room in your heart to let someone in. And why should you prepare space for someone if you truly don’t know if they want to be there?

This class although interesting became boring as the weeks went on. The class had fallen into a seasonal depression of sorts. Many like you had expected to have Meelo for the semester when you had booked your classes, so when Kiszka showed up and tried to shake things up… It wasn’t easy. He was skilled and smart, sure… But not the same. He craved involvement and wanted the class to join in with him, but often would push people further than they were willing to go. A room full of mid-20-year-olds was truly a space of burnout. Many of these students had already passed four, sometimes five years of school before they stepped into this class. They no longer have that lively interest in reading and analyzing literature but want to create their own.

“-And what was this author trying to convey through his use of metaphors?...” He asked from his commanding space at the front of the class, “No one?... No one picked up on this…? Or are you too scared to be wrong?”

Your attempts at fighting off eye-rolls also subsided the longer this course went on, and this roll came on hard. You’ve heard this line countless times through multiple classes. He wasn’t wrong, but he could at least find different ways to say the statement.

“Y/N? Care to enlighten everyone?” He calls to you, in need of saving the class who had lost attention nearly an hour ago.

“Sure. It’s a metaphor for how women are treated in society.” You answer.

He grits his teeth and sighs, “Not quite, but you’re close…”

You lift yourself from your slump, “No, that’s right. She is clearly trying to convey the expectations of women in society and how we are treated. As a female author, she leaves these metaphors to be very simple for female readers to understand. For males, it’s harder to grasp that the severity of these situations could imply the treatment of women, but that’s what she’s trying to explain.”

He clasps his hands together giving them a brief shake, “That class, that is how you analyze. Literature can be read in different ways by different readers. The author may have a clear intention of what they are trying to write, but others may be able to relate it to other aspects of their life. I have my own interpretation, and you all may have others. That is how this should be working. There is nothing wrong, with how you analyze, just that you have the knowledge to back it up…”

Every time you tried to make him out to be the bad guy, he ended up being in the right. You hated how smart he was. You hated how much you wanted to watch him while he stood up there. You hated how he wasn’t her. But you knew you didn’t want him to leave.

“So with that,” He continues, “Finish up the last few chapters and please come prepared with statements next week about your findings. I want you to dig deep; feel the author. I’ll see you next week.”

The class starts their shuffle for the door, while you meander to your usual spot at the doorway of the office. The next class wouldn’t be in for 20 minutes, but you would at least have time to warm up.

You click on the heater and walk over to Kiszka’s rolling desk chair. You take your coat off and rest it over the seat, pushing it over to the door. Kiszka finds his seat at the front of the classroom, pulling out his book of the week. He usually would try to follow you, asking you what you were reading, then the next day showing up to class with an identical copy. It was annoying and endearing how much he wanted to learn from you. You wondered if it upset him that you weren’t as keen on learning from him.

He confided in you that Meelo was an idol of his as well, and although he didn’t get to learn from her, he was going to try to through you.

You pull your copy of Anna Karenina from your bag and join him. Your chapters ahead of him, but you enjoy being one step in front of him.

You peep up from the back of the room, “I didn’t ask, but please tell me this isn’t your first time reading this.”

He lifts his head from the book slightly, eyes still skimming the page, “Third.”

You sigh in relief. That would’ve been embarrassing; for him.

You return to the book. You’re finding it harder to dive in today than usual, something is different… You see out of the corner of your eye that Kiszka has put down the book altogether, and you can sense him staring. This lasts a few moments, but you try to remain focused on the words, but catching yourself having to re-read the paragraphs; not processing the sentences you’ve already read.

A minute goes by and he hasn’t returned to his pages. Instead, you hear the squeak of his chair rolling over to his computer. A few clicks and a frenzy of taps on the keyboard.

“Hey.” He prods.

You look up again from the book. He peers at you over the edge of his computer and then closes it so he can see you better. He grasps his jaw lightly, stroking it in his hands.

“Yes?” You asked, trying not to seem annoyed by the interruption.

“Let’s go over your manuscript. I want to see it.” He continues.

No. It’s not time yet. You’ve been meticulously editing it for months now. He wasn’t supposed to read it until midterms, you were supposed to have more time…

You drop the book into your lap, “It’s not ready…” You close the book, “Also we have class in twenty minutes, you won’t be able to read it all by then.”

He stands up from his seat, straightening his vest out, “I canceled class. Pull it out.”

Two Hours Later

Some time had passed. You both sat in his office now. Him at… his… desk, and you still positioned by the heater at the door. At this point you were warm enough to finally take your sweater off, stripping down to a simple black t-shirt. You saw him staring through the pages when you pulled the sweater off. If he had looked any harder you think he might burn a hole through the book.

The office was silent except for the occasional click and clack of the heater, and the flickering of the candle on his desk. He flipped through the lightly bound pages while you continued through your reading. Every couple of minutes you could hear the stroke of his red pen hit the pages. The words or corrections will wait for you later. You could sit and scoff at them later in your apartment. The man said his favorite book was Lord of the Rings, how could you possibly trust his editorial judgment?

You had made it about a hundred or so pages through your book, which was slower than you would’ve liked. You still couldn’t breach the interferences. You thought the silence would help, but hearing his hums, his pen strokes, the occasional sip of scotch… It was all a distraction.

You couldn’t stop looking up from the book to watch him slyly admire your work. You knew your writing was good; Meelo had seen the early stages of it all. She heard the direction and loved every word… A complete sadness rushed over you thinking of how she would never see the final product.

Kiszka would adjust himself every few minutes; switching positions in his seat. You wanted to trust yourself enough not to look every time he shifted his hips, but those linen pants he loved so much left little to wonder about him. You had a closeness to him that you didn’t want to admit. As many differences as there were between you, there were just as many similarities. He was an outsider here; you could see that clearly. The other professors didn’t trust him because of his age- the students tried to walk all over him because of that too.

Even though you wanted to hate how pretentious he seemed, deep down you knew it was a facade to seem more studious to others. You saw the real him in glimpses. The kindness he offered to you that many others most likely wouldn’t have. Your youth and love for literature matched his perfectly, although you couldn’t always find the way to express it correctly. Your loyalty to Meelo prevented that at every chance.

Letting him read this manuscript was a big step that you didn’t fully even realize until he had reached the halfway point. You wanted to go and rip the pages out of his hand, throw them out the window, prevent him from seeing you too deeply… But something inside you needed to know what he thought of it.

Frustrated by your lack of progress, you lowered the book into your lap. You took this time to look around the room. It had changed so much since you had seen it back in December. Kiszka’s library had taken up the room, along with his record collection. When you would come by early in the morning to drop off the graded work, you would hear him playing some of it. Blues, rock, the classics. You never disturbed him during these times, it felt too intimate to interrupt. Instead, you would place the binder of essays on his classroom desk and scurry away before he could come to say hello.

You place your bookmark into the page opening. You calmly stand and place the book where you once sat. Quietly, you make your way over to his collection.

You see him peer up through the pages. Curious about your movements, watching you silently behind the manuscript.

You lower yourself to the floor, sifting through the jackets of the vinyls. Alphabetical. Of course. You make your way quickly through the a’s and land through the b’s. As cliche as it seems, you truly love Abbey Road, and of course, there it is front and center with the other Beatles albums. You pull it out from the shelf, removing the jacket carefully from the sleeve. You lift the vinyl out and place it on the record player. It’s a modern one, which feels very out of character for Kiszka. He always seemed like the type to randomly have every item of his be nothing newer than 20 years old.

You press play and lower the needle onto the music.

Come Together plays softly through the speakers. You turn to look back at him, seeing if there is any protest. Instead, he has the red pen out, slashing across the paper. You grit your teeth and try not to engage. You return to his collection, running your fingers along the remainder of the vinyl. The plastic tickles through your fingers, creating a click, click sound as each jacket releases from your hold.

Although you did want Kiszka to keep reading, you felt it was necessary to distract him, to try and persuade him to step away…

You continue from the vinyl collection, traipsing through the room. It’s like a library out of a movie, truly. You admired his office deeply and loved to gaze at it while he was lecturing. Sometimes when he was deep in his philosophy of literature speeches, you would lean back in the chair and try to read the book titles from afar. Your eyesight was good, but not good enough to make out the exact names of all of them. You never dared to peruse like this before, but this moment presented the perfect opportunity.

You were his captive for the remainder of his reading. Well… In all reality, you didn’t have to be here, but you didn’t dare leave that manuscript alone. It had been stored with you in your tote for the past month. You tried to take chunks of edits at a time, working through it yourself when you had time but didn’t want to share it with anyone until you felt that it was complete.

You tried to fight Kiszka off, but the notion of him canceling class meant that he found taking the time to do this very important…

The books that were displayed on these shelves were not the type of books that you would find at your local bookstore. They were older, worn in, some of them originals, even some you haven’t read yet. Maybe he did have some things that he could show you…

You make your way to the last set of bookshelves, rounding the back corner of the office. The last edge of the wall had his makeshift bar.

The liquor was all dark, amber-colored. Very manly, you thought to yourself. Bottles of whiskey and scotch lined the makeshift bar. Jack Daniels, Sazerac Rye, Macallan Double Cask… You recognized some of the labels.

Kiszka crept up behind you, “If you wanted a glass, you could’ve asked.”

He reaches down below you to fetch a rocks glass from the bar. He grabs the Macallan Double Cask and pours a finger for you. The alcohol flows effortlessly out of the bottle, barely splashing into the glass. He hands the glass to you, your hand brushing his. His touch is warm… Kind. He takes his other hand and grabs your shoulder, in a comforting way. You want to seem completely normal, but feel your cheeks getting rosy from the touch. You suck on your bottom lip and try to hide your face.

You take a large swig of the scotch, trying to be mindful of not wasting such a good drink. He looks at you, shocked at your ability to take it so easily.

“Wow. Good.” Is the only words he can mutter.

You smile meekly. The praise makes you feel undoubtedly shyer than you had just before.

“Are these originals?” You ask, pointing to the corner section of his library, “I couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to touch them if they were.”

“Many of them, yes,” He responds, “I trust that you would be gentle with them, please, which one were you curious about?”

You make your way over to the shelf, placing your drink down on the small table near the corner. You reach up to fold out the red bound book. Its title was completely faded from the binding, but we’re curious as to which one it was. He follows closely behind you, close enough to almost be on you.

He laughs, “Funny you should grab that..”

You open the cover to find Lord of the Rings printed in big black letters.

“Oh, dear god.” You sigh.

“It is an original if that makes you feel any better about it. I know you hate this book, but still-”

“No, no,” You protest, “I never said I hated it, I just said it wasn’t my favorite. Remember we have different opinions on that professor.”

He scoffs and takes the book from your hand. Rubbing the cloth binding with his thumbs.

“Want to know something funny?” He questions.

You did. You really did. You wanted the connection at this moment… For whatever cosmic reason it finally felt okay to banter with him. You nod your head, approving him to continue.

“I saw the movies before I read the books.” He laughs, “My brothers and I loved it, we were practically obsessed, but I was younger then and a stupid boy who didn’t read like I do now. Not the fairytale way most people find their favorite but it reminds me of childhood…”

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to make fun of him for it. But you knew that this was a special moment for him. A look into his past, a presentation for more. He places the book carefully back on the shelf, tucking it back into its spot.

“Well, I guess that makes more sense now. But, as a graduate professor, you ought to just say you like the pretentious shit. No one’s going to take you seriously.”

He turns from the shelf, “Who said I was worried about that? If I lie then I am a fraud. I don’t care if anyone says that.”

Oh fuck. His confidence is so intoxicating. He’s right. Why should he care?

“I just- I meant… I thought that the other professors-”

“You thought that they don’t take me seriously? Right. They don’t. In schools like this, you have to earn respect. I’m not an alumnus, I didn’t go to Harvard, but I do a damn good job at what I do. As much as you may protest some of my teaching, I know what I’m doing.”

He breezes past you and strolls back over to the bar to pour himself another drink. You reach back for yours and hold it between your hands, trying to collect yourself. You hope that you didn’t hurt him.

“Did I offend you?” You ask.

“‘Course not,” He takes a swig, “I just wish you would realize that it doesn’t matter what standards others hold you to. You are not someone else. You are you.”

“I know that.” You respond dryly. Your answer didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to be. It came out unsure and desperate.

“Then why has your whole academic career been based on your relationship with one woman? Why must everything you do be for her?...”

You stand there silently. Completely struck with emotions. Anger, sadness, discouragement.

“She… She made me who I am,” You pipe, “She’s the reason I am in this program.”

He strolls back over to you, locking your eyes with his. It’s intimidating, this look he has on his face. He’s studying you, seeing how lost you feel. Truly for the first time you couldn’t even try to put up any walls. He had broken you down.

He places his hand on your shoulder again, “Can I show you something?” He asks.

Before you have time to even object to him, his hand moves from your shoulder to your waist, guiding you back towards his desk. You feel butterflies growing inside you.

No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He is your advisor. He is not someone you should feel this way about. He’s trying to help you, he’s not interested in you.

The vinyl finishes its song and moves on to Something. He guides you into his seat. You place the glass down on the desk and wipe the condensation from your hands onto your thighs. He reaches over the desk and twirls the manuscript back in front of you. The pages sit open about two-thirds of the way through. He stands behind you, practically leaning on your back. His chest rests against your shoulder, pointing at the beginning of the page.

“See this paragraph here?” He questions.

You strain so hard to not melt at his touch. His hair is grazing your cheek. It smells wonderful, but you can’t admit that. He has this gentle but clean musk about him. He smells like a perfectly cared-for bookstore. A soft smell of tobacco and oak. The chains with pendants are draping over his neck, sparkling in the moonlight of the night, softly clanking together with his movement

You need to focus.

You respond, afraid that you waited too long, “Yes?” Your voice wavers, the lack of confidence creeping back through, “Is there something wrong with it?”

He turns to face you, “Yes. I have a big problem with it.”

You feel your heart sink. What could be wrong with it? The back half of the book is the best part, it is the part you feel most confident with. You feel confused. All of those walls and confidence you felt once in his presence were lost.

“What…? What problem?”

You look back at the pages, disregarding his closeness to you, pulling the bundle of paper back towards you, and flipping through to the previous pages. He puts his hand on yours, stopping you from searching. He lowers himself next to the seat, squatting to be at your eye level. His thumb wanders back and forth over your wrist.

He smiles a crooked and cunning smile, “It’s some of the best writing I’ve seen in years, and the author was too scared to even share it with anyone. She lost someone and had to do this all on her own. That’s terrifying, but it’s still her work. ”

You look at the hand holding yours. It’s strong but has a softness to it. It has a few rings sitting on them, but none a wedding band. You lower your head and release your wrist, grabbing it with your other hand. You sigh heavily and grasp your hands in front of the pages. Your hands travel up to hide your face, which presents a melancholic smile that you can’t let go of. You can’t tell if it’s the liquor or his presence, but you feel a glow coming from inside.

You rush your hands past your face and through your hair, resting your hands on the back of your neck. Scoffing, you turn to look at him. His amused smile is irresistible.

“You,” He starts, “Are an amazing writer.” His hand lifts from the pages and reaches up towards your cheek, holding your face in his palm, “And no matter who your teacher is, you can still do it on your own.”

Your hand finds its way up to his arm, holding him back. Staring longingly at each other. Both deep down knowing that this was about to lead down a path you couldn’t return from.

“Professor-” You initiate.

“Jacob.” He replies.

“Fine… Jacob. This- I… I don’t think.”

He quickly removes his hand from your face and comes to his senses. “Oh, dear, um… I’m so sorry y/n… I…”

You let yourself slump in the seat. How could you? How could you squander that moment? After years of wishing to find a man who was at least half as interested in literature as you… Here you are throwing it away. But you could be right to do so. He was your professor, you were his assistant, the moral implications of this all…

Jacob stands and leans back onto the desk, stroking his chin, concerned. Thinking about it all. You can see the nerves climbing through him. He feels embarrassed.

You reach your hand up to your face again, burying your emotions into your skin.

“I just thought- I, fuck.” He continues, “I thought we were turning a corner, I was looking and I thought I saw you-”

“You did.” You respond, “...I was looking.”

You lower your hand from your face to stare back at him. You put the manuscript back on the desk and stand.

“You… You were?” He searches for the answer.

“Jacob… For months I have looked. I didn’t want to like you. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. My mentor was my heart and soul, she was everything to me. I didn’t want to give you any chances because I didn’t want to lose someone like that again… I can’t handle that heartbreak. But…” You trail off.

“But?” He inquires.

You reach for the scotch glass and swirl the liquid around. Staring deep into the stormy amber.

“Fuck it.” You take the last of the scotch into your mouth and turn back to Jacob, “You… You are what I’ve wanted. I can’t deny the way I feel when it’s just us. When I see you deep in thought, when you push me to go further; when you challenge me. When we’re alone, and I see you for the man you are. When I see how genuinely fucking amazing you are. And I’m so mad at myself for not opening myself to you.”

Jacob peels himself off the desk and stances himself in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them tenderly in his. You drop your head, your hair falling over your frustrated expression.

“You were grieving, you wouldn’t have been ready for this.” He reaches his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

You look up to him with doe eyes. He was the older man, coming in for the prey. You wanted to be his. You wanted to have him. You wanted it. You denied it for months. You denied it from the moment you saw him. You denied yourself to knowing him in fear that this exact moment would happen. But here you were. Unveiling yourself to him in the very place you felt the first attraction.

“I want to be ready. No, I am ready. I want this. I can’t deny myself happiness because of everything that happened,” You said.

“Are you sure?” He asked. Trying to test you.

You nod your head in approval, trying once again to keep the emotions bottled in.

“I don’t want you to feel any pressure because-”

“Please don’t say it. I know. I know this is all morally fucked up, but I’m an adult, you’re an adult. Just treat me like one.”

He smiles, admiring your maturity, “If you want to do this, there are some things we have to settle first.”

You look up at him confused, “Things? What things?”

“More like rules,” He answers, titling his head playfully, “I need to know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to scare you even more than you already seem.”

He returns his hand to hold your face, just like he previously had only moments before.

“I’m not scared Jacob. What rules?”

“As much as I like to be gentle with women, I also enjoy being rough.” He says through a velvety tone

You jolt back, at first fearful of his words, but relax quickly, reminding yourself you don’t need to be scared.

“How rough are we talking…” You prod.

The cunning smile returns across his face, “Don’t worry, I don’t leave marks, at least too bad of marks… And only rough enough that you’ll still be wanting more by the time we’re done.”

You bite your lip at the thought. You’re no virgin at this point in your life, but you’ve never been able to explore this type of intimacy. Every man in college is practically an amateur at pleasuring women and even more so when it comes to exploration in sex. You’ve read plenty of books to know about the type of sex he was talking about. As much as you enjoyed the classics and the light-hearted romance, you still found yourself picking up a steamier romance book in private.

You wanted that. Had practically dreamed about it before…

Being here with this man, who was only a few years your senior, felt like you could practice this fantasy safely. He knew what he was doing, he could show you pleasures you didn’t even know you could enjoy. Even if you felt like you couldn’t learn more from your education with him, perhaps there were other things he could teach you. It was all becoming a bit too exciting.

His hand moves slowly down from your cheek to your waist. His palms gently grazed your spine until they locked in on your love handles.

“So,” He continues, “Are you going to be my good girl? Can you be good for me? Do you think you can take it?”

You reach out to his chest, moving aside his shirt which had barely been buttoned. With one swipe down his sternum, you unlatched all of them revealing his smooth golden skin. He watched you intently, seeing you explore his skin like never before. You traced your fingers along the opening, feeling your need to reach more grow. With each second that passed you felt the insatiable thirst to be close to him; to feel him. His grip on your waist tightened with each pass you made over his chest.

His other hand joined him on your opposite side. You feared that your hips may break with his excited hold. You looked up at him, biting your lip, trying to remain coy. That soft smile appeared on his lips; you had answered with your body language.

He pushes his hands further into you and lifts you onto the desk, your ass barely resting on the edge of the wood.

“Words,” He said, pulling himself closer into you, resting perfectly between your legs, “Nothing’s going to happen until you tell me you want it to. This isn’t going to work sweetheart unless you use your words.”

“Jacob-” Are the only breathy words that you can mutter.

You can feel him growing, feel the linen pants barely holding back his excitement. You feel your heartbeat travel from your chest, down into your stomach, into your…

His hand moves up to your jaw, holding it firmly in his grip, “Y/N, follow the instructions. Words. I’m not going to wait much longer.”

“Yes-”

Before you can even finish he’s pulling you into an embrace. Your lips meet his. The soft taste of scotch remaining on both of you created an intoxicating addicting feeling. It was complete passion, complete neediness to be one. His tongue introduces itself into your mouth… Soft, wet. Beckoning. The noises you both are making sound feral, completely unusual for the both of you. What once was a prim and proper relationship between you became a fervent desperation to touch… To fuck.

His hands traveled down your body, first reaching your chest, grasping you completely in his hand. Rolling his palms over the front of your breasts, driving you completely mad. You wished the barriers of clothing had been completely stripped away, but he was too hungry to even keep you waiting for long. His hands reached under your shirt, plowing underneath the wire of your bra to find your naked breasts. A soft relieving moan escaped your lips through the breaths of the kissing.

You reached your hands out to find the remainder of the buttons of his vest closing you off to his body. You made quick work of unbuttoning them, reaching your hands across his midsection; climbing to his back. Reaching up towards his shoulders, feeling the softness of his skin across the pads of your fingers. God, he was perfect.

His fingers traveled to your nipples, running his thumb and forefinger over the bud of your nipples. Before you could even realize what you were doing, your nails dragged down his back, raking into his skin. He paused the kissing for a moment to let out a moaning growl. He slid his hands out from your bra, slipping down to the edges of your shirt, attempting to tug it off as fast as he could. You snatched your hands out of his shirt to raise them over your head, giving him complete access to strip you.

He placed his hand between your breasts and forced you down onto the desk, your head falling onto the manuscript below you. He shook off his vest and was quick to pull his shirt off.

“Seems like I’m not the only one who likes it rough, huh?” He asked.

You lifted your head from the desk, “No, definitely not.” You responded. Unsure where this untamed version of you had even come from.

“No, sir” He stated, pushing you back down.

“What?” You asked, skeptical of what he meant.

He mounted himself once again between your legs, grinding himself into you. He traced his finger down your neck, to the waistline of your pants.

“Sir… That’s what my good girls going to call me, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, unaware that you were even doing so, “Call me Jacob,” you mock, “Call me sir.”

He reached back up to your jaw, pushing his thumb into your cheek, “If you’re going to be a brat we’re going to need to set some more rules. Good girls don’t get punished, but you’re already testing me.”

Completely stunned, you look back at him trying to emulate a softness, an apology. You had to admit though, you weren’t scared of him… If anything you were more turned on by the thought of his punishments.

“And how would you punish me, sir?” You ask in your best sultry voice.

He let out a low grumbling laugh. He studied your body, not even acknowledging your question, just thinking… Thinking of what he would do to you. He grabbed onto your hips and pulled you hard into his cock. There was no wondering anymore. You could feel how large he was, how excited he was. If your own body wasn’t blocking it you could probably see it entirely.

“Maybe,” He starts, “Maybe you’re not going to be my good girl,” His hands dig deeper into your waist, “Maybe, you’re going to be my little slut.”

The word echoed through the room. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not the feeling of being displeased, it was a feeling of being right. Being here with him, being under his control, felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. He could see you in a way that someone hasn’t seen you for months. He was learning every inch of you and would learn even more as the night went on.

He leaned down from his high position to plant gentle kisses along your neck. Gingerly leaving behind little reminders of passion.

“-And if you’re going to be my slut,” He whines through breathy kisses, “you need to know the safe words.”

You run your hands up to his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. Tracing his scalp over your fingertips. You don’t want to go this slow, the breaks are killing you. You just want to feel him. You want to feel him on you, in you, taking you completely as his own.

His kisses finally reach the band of your jeans, but that doesnt stop him from exploring further. He pulls down on the jeans to reveal more of your stomach, delivering gentle almost tickling kisses.

“Green,” He whispers, “Means you like it… You don’t want me to stop.”

His hand travels over to the button of your jeans, popping the metal away from the denim. Your eyes follow him, watching his hair fall over your stomach, the metal of his necklace chilling your bare skin. His shoulders look strong here, masculine, powerful. Watching him focus so intently on you is killing you. This is a man unlike any other that you’ve been with, he’s focused on treating you first, even if there were some other pleasures in it for him.

“Yellow,” The zipper slowly starts to unravel as he pulls your pants further down, “Means you need me to slow down… If you need a break…”

Your pants steadily fall off of your legs, finally being exposed to him entirely until they fall onto the floor. The only thing separating you from him now is your thong. Which you are now praising yourself for wearing today. He resumes his consuming kisses across your midsection, joining back down where he had left off. His hands slip underneath him to grab the edges of the lace, sliding off the thong with ease.

His kisses start to graze you closer to your…

He stops and lifts himself. His hand leads up to your mouth, putting his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. You accept them, excited for what it means.

“Red.” His voice develops a more serious tone, “Means stop.”

He removes his now slick fingers from your mouth, returning them down below. His fingers reach your cunt, and you welcome him with excitement of your own. Your body is in shambles waiting, wanting to know what it feels like. His fingers dance across your aching clit, his thumb padding the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through your deprived body. A loud distressed moan escapes you, you can’t help but express your enthusiasm.

“Don’t worry sir,” You shudder through achy moans, “I don’t think I’ll need to use that one.”

“Good girl.”

Without any hesitation his fingers breach you, filling you up. He stands over you, watching you grow with the agony of pleasure. Your breath hitches with each pump, your back arching with each lift of his fingers. His thumb traces back over your clit, stimulating every inch of you.

Every attempt at communicating the feeling faulters, except for, “Oh fuck-”

Your body is shaking with each movement. He’s painting the perfect picture of an orgasm with just one hand. The power he holds, the knowledge he has. He knew how to please you better than you knew how to.

His free hand makes its way around your neck, gripping it, holding you in place so he can work harder at you. You’ve never been choked before, it’s a completely new sensation. The gasps for air were something you thought you’d fear, but instead, you were wishing he’d hold on harder.

“Green?” He asks, looking for permission.

You nodded your head ferociously

You feel yourself completely letting go under his control, something you feared once to let him have all the power. But here, now, held down to his desk… You never wanted it to stop.

“Words.” He barked.

Your hand reaches up to hold his wrist, “Yes, yes…”

“Yes, what?” He asks again, his fingers slowing their movement. Clearly, he wouldn’t be letting you get away with anything. You had to be obedient and do as he told you.

“Yes… Please, Sir,” You beg.

The words were getting harder to communicate. If he could finger you into oblivion, you might let him if it meant you could feel this good again.

He smiled in approval and resumed his previous pace. Steadily building faster, and faster. Harder and harder. You could feel how wet you were becoming, it really didn’t take much for him to draw the excitement out of you. The swirls of his fingers and the vigor of his motions were precise… Calculated, trying to accomplish only one mission; and he was close to succeeding.

Your moaning only got more frequent and louder, you couldn’t hold back. The pleasure was far too great to stay quiet. He almost let you be loud too, only for a few moments before reminding you of your location. He lifted his hand off your neck to lift a single finger to his lips and then pointed around the room.

“If my good girl can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to make her. We don’t want anyone spoiling all the fun.”

You nod your head, remembering you were still in his office. Your surroundings had escaped you completely; only thinking of him and you.

His thumb started to apply more pressure, practically begging for you for more. A softer moan forced its way out, helpless to be silenced. His hand plasters itself over your mouth, holding you silent. The pads of his fingers resting deep into your cheeks.

“I know baby, it’s so hard… You’re gonna be so good and come for me now, okay?”

Finally being relieved of speaking, you nod your head, ready for the climax. His fingers dive upward, grazing the sweet spot buried inside of you. The pressure, the sensation it’s all too much. You feel your belly tighten, your back arching. He’s trying to hold you steady as you writhe in pleasure. There’s no stopping anything now.

“Do it baby, come on… Be a good little slut for me…”

Your eyes roll deep back into your head. You feel the sweet sensation of release wash over you. Like a wave of ecstasy, traveling from your toes, past your aching clit, through your belly, all the way to your head. Stifled moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. His fingers stay at their steady pace, pushing past your orgasm. You feel yourself dripping around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, you’ve never felt the devotion to make you feel this good. Your body is quivering around him, unable to shake the overstimulation. You’re squeezing onto his wrist, trying to come down easy, but everything he’s doing is making the sensations crash into you.

He takes his hand away from your mouth and you immediately gasp for air, trying to find serenity.

“Oh god,” You moan, “How did you-”

He shuts you up by taking his mouth to your soaked cunt, sliding his tongue through the mess he made. You place your hands beside you to sit up slightly. This was a sight you did not want to miss. You take his hair in your hands and tuck it aside. Each stripe of his tongue makes you wince, you want him to stop, but you can’t let him. It feels too good. It’s too much but just the right amount all at once.

He was consuming you, desperate to explore every inch of you. Wildly eating you up, trying to capture every last drop of his work. You were spilling into him, it was never-ending. It was like you weren’t even there; everything except your pusy. This was a high that you never wanted to come down from. He was devoted to keeping you there as long as he could, but you couldn’t hold on for more.

You fell back onto the desk, squirming through it all. He had you right where he wanted you. You let yourself fall into him, trying to take it all. Your hands reach over the desk, trying to find somewhere to hang onto, but instead knocking the scotch glass off the desk. Shattering loudly beneath you.

Jacob didn’t stop though, he was completely distracted, locked in. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Yellow.. Yellow..” You begged, completely overstimulated and shocked. How could you even ask for that?... But it was impossible to withstand any more sensation.

He stopped slowly, easing you out of the enjoyment. His hands reached up over your thighs and rested on your hips, slowly petting them with his thumbs. He looked up at you through glazed-over eyes, completely drunk on your arousal. He didn’t want it to end.

Slowly raising himself back to a standing position, you could see how hard he had gotten. He felt just as much pleasure as you did. He was completely lost, coming back to reality. Chin dripping with your wetness…

He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily. The passion was more fiery than before. You did something to him and he did even more to you. It was strange to taste yourself on his lips, but exciting nonetheless. You were caught up together. Complete and one at that moment. And then it all stopped…

Footsteps approached outside the classroom. You both stopped. He removed himself from your lips and raised his head to listen.

A knock at the classroom door.

“Hello?” Someone called out.

There was no mistaking that someone was in this office, between the music, the glass breaking… They knew.

“Everything okay in here Kiszka?”

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He stands and reaches for his shirt, buttoning it with no haste. He grabs your shirt and pants and kicks them under the desk, “Go, get underneath the desk,” He whispers, “Now.”

#jake kiszka #greta van smut #gvf fic #gvf smut #jake kiskza x reader #jtk x reader #jake gvf #professor fic #gvf #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka angst #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut

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gracev0609 · 1 month

Text

Ease Your Pain

Josh Kiszka X Reader

WC: 1.5k+

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI, Explicit Sex,Period Sex, Breeding Kink

You heard the front door close, signaling that your beloved boyfriend was home. Josh made his way through the house carrying the bag of Taco Bell you requested. It was the second day of your period, your heaviest day, and you were wrapped up on the couch craving nothing but junk.

“Here you go, lovie,” Josh places the bag on the coffee table in front of you, his eyes looking sympathetic as he takes in your bundled up form.

You peek your head out of your blankets and gingerly raise to a seated position, eager to inhale your food. Unwrapping your burrito a sharp pang assaults your lower stomach and you wince.

After a few minutes of munching you finish your food,” Joshy? Will you lay with me?”

“Absolutely. Do you want to stay here, or lay in bed?”

“Wanna stay here, I'm comfy.”

Wordlessly Josh maneuvers his body behind yours, his hips flush against yours, and his large palm comes to rest against your bloated stomach. The warmth from his body instantly soothes you. His fingers press into your abdomen, trying to ease the cramping. You sigh and melt into his body. Josh's body is so warm and safe and he wants nothing other than to take the best care of you. Your breath hitches as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“Does it feel any better?”

Another sharp pain attacks your abdomen making you intake a sharp breath of air.

Josh jutts out his bottom lip,”I’ll take that as a no.”

The dull ache within your body radiating from your uterus persists, but he continues to work his fingers into your soft abdomen trying to ease your pain. Josh places his palm flat against your stomach and he apologizes.

"Why are you sorry?"

"I'm sorry because it's my fault," he starts caressing your body a little bit lower," I didn't do my job, didn't get my pretty baby knocked up. She's mad at me."

Your body immediately reacts to his words and you think, oh… he's in a mood. Your raging hormones make the need for him blossom between your legs, you ache for him to move his hand even lower. As if he can read your mind he trails his fingers underneath the waistband of your sweats.

“I.. I'm wearing a pad. I wanted to be comfy.”

Josh kisses the warm skin of your neck,” That's okay baby, I want you to be comfortable. A little mess on my hand is no big deal.”

Josh slides his hand lower, and swipes his fingers through the warm wetness that has been accumulating. You feel him start to stiffen as his fingers play in the mess between your legs.

You melt into his body as his well lubricated fingers glide across your swollen clit, you can hear his breathing pick up. He's so turned on. A rush of arousal floods through your brain as you realize he's turned on, because of your period.

Gruffly he rasps in your ear,” Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you. All warm and wet. Fucking coating me.”

His fingers abandon your clit, sliding down to tease your entrance,” Is my pretty baby going to let me in? I wanna get you all relaxed for my cock.”

“Please”

He slides his fingers into your sensitive heat slowly pumping them in and out before curling them up into your favorite spot. Before long you're writhing your hips fucking yourself on his fingers.

“Jooooshhh...” You trail off, mind blanking.

“Is my baby going to cum?”

The coil in your stomach tightens, your body tensing up, and you finally topple over the edge. Josh's fingers don't ease up, fucking you through it to completion.

“Such a good girl. Came so pretty and perfect.”

Your eyes flutter open to see his pretty face looming above yours, his hand still slowly pumping in and out. His eyes are clouded with lust, but he still smiles softly,”Hi, baby.”

Before long his constant stimulation makes you start to clench, another orgasm in sight. The wet squelching from between your legs sounding obscene as he pushes you closer and closer.

“Gonna give me another one? I want it love. Come on, cum all over my fingers.”

You whimper as pleasure courses throughout your body in waves, giving him exactly what he wanted.

His fingers slow to a stop, and your body protests by cramping yet again making you furrow your brow in a wince. Josh pulls his red stained fingers from your pants, admiring the way you coat his hand.

“Take your pants off baby, just sit down in the blankets, we can throw it all in the wash after.”

Before you can even get the chance to get embarrassed about the state of his hand, or tell him to go wash up. He grabs his straining cock with his painted hand, squeezing and rubbing himself through the fabric, staining his pants with you.

He unzips his pants, pulling them and his underwear down his legs. Josh bites his lip as he gives himself a few tugs giving himself a bit of relief. Slotting himself between your legs you feel him hot and hard at your core.

“You're still cramping, huh? I think my pretty baby needs my cock to make her feel better, they say it helps. I know you usually feel a little better after,” his softness diminishes,” Gotta get my girl all drunk on my cock, pump her full of my cum. We'll make the prettiest shade of pink….Maybe I'll even fuck a baby in you soon.”

You run your hands up the soft skin of his back under his t-shirt,” Do it Josh.”

You taunt him, indulging his kink that likes to come out to play, both of you knowing full well you're on birth control and have your period right now.

“I'll take everything you give me, hold it all in and keep it there. Knock me up Joshy.”

You study his face as his jaw clenches and his eyes roll back, he loves it when you talk dirty. Josh leans up on his knees and cradles his cock in his hand, he runs his tip through the fluid and slick between your legs, drawing his hips back he calls for your attention,” Look baby. Look how pretty you're marking me.”

You look down to his cock, his tip bright red covered in you the sight inexplicably makes you clench, needing him more than ever.

“Put it in me love, need to be full of you.”

Josh complies, easing his hips forward, slowly entering you. Inch by inch you revel in the fullness he provides, the extra lubrication making him glide in easily.

Gently he rears his hips back before pushing deep inside you,”God- Fuck. You're so wet. Making a fucking mess of me. You like that though, don't you? You like being my pretty messy baby”

All you can do is nod you head as he continues to thrust into your sensitive cunt. He's overwhelming in the best way, your body is vibrating in pleasure.

“Go harder Josh, please baby.”

He rises to his knees, pulling you into his lap. He takes the bottom hem of his shirt between his teeth, holding it up away from the mess the two of you are making.

He drives his hips into you harder, the plush head of his cock nudging your cervix, creating the most delicious amount of pain.

Your eyes roll back as he pounds away getting lost in your warm wetness. Little beads of red splash onto his belly as he works the two of you closer to your ends.

He grunts with every pointed thrust through the cotton between his teeth. You can feel him pulsating inside of you, he's so close, and so are you. Squeezing his cock within your walls he whines,”Baby…”

“Come on Josh, need you to cum. Wanna feel it…. Get me pregnant.”

He drops the hem of his shirt, fucking into you even harder,” Yeah… yes, fuck-here- here baby I'm cumming, gonna get you pregnant so fucking fast.”

He swells and bursts inside of you, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hot fluid coating your insides, it pushes you over the edge for the final time. You squeeze and flutter around him, milking both of your orgasms out as long as they can go.

Josh flops back onto his forearms, and he gently pulls out,”God damn sweetheart. How do you feel? Because that was….fuck.”

You smile at him, looking equally as disheveled,”I definitely feel better.”

Josh helps you up off of the couch, scooping up the soiled blankets to put them in the wash on the way to the bathroom.

He turns the shower on, hot, and removes his now ruined white shirt.

“Do you think we can save it?”

You shake your head no, and he tosses into the trash can.

Josh looks down at his half hard length, still softening,” See love, the prettiest shade of pink.”

You laugh at the mess, climbing into the shower and he asks,” How are your cramps? Are they all gone?”

Josh closes the shower door behind him and you wrap yourself around his torso,” They're gone for now, at least.”

He cups your face in his hands,”Well, you let me know if they start bothering you,and I'll make you feel good again if you want.”

Fin.

#gvf #josh gvf #josh kiszka #gvf smut #gvf fanfiction #greta van smut #josh kiszka smut

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gretavanbrie · 6 months

Text

Landslide (J.T.K.)

Summary: You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember, does he feel the same?

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Warnings: no smut for this part just pure ANGST ;), established friendship, swearing, unrequited love, light portrayal of anger, jake & y/n are a little dramatic but aren’t we all?? mentions of childhood, alcohol consumption… if I missed anything lmk, I’ll fix it no issue!!

A/N: I’m actually really excited for this one!! This is based on the winning answer of this poll I did, if you guys are looking for a bit more context on what this is about. I may have hurt my own feelings a couple times amidst writing this, I had my Jake lane friend read it and she was not too happy with me so hopefully this will strike a nerve for you guys as well!! If not that’s cool too! My writing is pretty sporadic so I’m gonna try and put out as much content as I can if you guys end up liking this story. I’m a waitress so my hours are long and unpredictable I do apologize in advance lol. I’m debating on if I should leave this as is, or make two long parts, or even start a mini series…not too sure yet but lmk what you think!!! Also this is vaguely proof read. If there are any mistakes, bare with me.

Part 2 | Part 3

Here you were, standing in front of the mirror, clammy hands nervously smoothing down the fabric of the dress you adorned. You made it a point to pull out all of the stops today, you’d washed and beautifully dried your hair. You gave one last look at your makeup before running your hands through your hair and heading to grab your bag. You let out a shaky breath picking up your phone.

The boys were back from tour and some mutual friends were having a little gathering as a welcome back. Any other time you wouldn’t have been so uneasy but the conversation you had with Josh had been replaying in your head the entire time they’ve been gone.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” You immediately recognize that voice.

Everyone was outside as the small farewell party for the commence of the tour had somehow migrated towards the backyard of Josh’s lovely home. You clear your throat in an attempt to rid the uneasiness in your voice.

“Excuse me?” You turn setting down the bottle of wine you were going to pour for yourself. He stood at the entryway of the kitchen as you feigned a confused expression to which he saw right through.

“Y/n..we may not hang out as much as you and my brother do but I still know you just as well. If not more, it seems” you just stared at him for a moment trying to find a good way out of this before quickly turning around and finished pouring yourself a glass. With your back still turned you speak up knowing there’s no use in hiding it anymore, if there was one person you could trust with this information it would be him.

“It’s just not a conversation to be had, he’s my best friend nothing more. It’s just a silly crush it’ll go away” you waved your hand to seemingly brush it off as you turned to face him. Not the whole truth, but not necessarily a lie? God you didn’t even believe yourself, how could you expect him to. You brought the glass to your lips letting the smooth red ease your nerves.

“A silly crush that’s lasted since senior year?” The minute those words left his mouth your eyes widened in shock. Quickly swallowing to refrain from spitting your drink all over his nice white shirt.

“What do you mean by that?” you stare inquisitively not knowing he was privy to just how deep this ‘silly crush’ had run.

“Oh c’mon don’t play coy. Like I said, I know you. We were friends first..lest you forget.” You giggled recalling the vague memory of 2nd grade recess, he stepped further into the room before continuing on.

“You keep too much to yourself, you’ve gotta stop sacrificing your own needs for the sake of what you think the other person wants. Disregard me as his brother for the time being, right now I’m coming to you as a friend. I’m not here to pressure you into telling him anything, that is your own decision to make. I just want you to ask yourself if this is what you really want. I mean come on your twenty-seven now y/n. You think I haven’t noticed that you’ve refused to see anyone since summer going into senior year?’

“That’s not true” you cut him off, defending yourself.

“I wasn’t completely celibate I was seeing that one guy Liam for some time… a-and Henry my sophomore year of college. I’m just not looking for anything.” Truth was, you were at one point. You convinced yourself getting under someone was the only way to get over another. Until you realized neither of them were Jake and that’s why you could never see them as a part of the long haul.

“And did you ever make it official with them? Or better yet, did they last any longer than 8 months?’ He challenged. You looked down at your feet defeated knowing there’s no use in denying any more. You know he knows. There was a beat of silence before you spoke up once more.

“I’d rather him be my friend than nothing at all, Josh.” you said quietly looking up at him as he embraced you in a hug running his hands through your hair.

You hear him sigh before he quietly speaks into your hair.

“I know.”

———————————————————————————

You shut your eyes and shook your head as if to rid the memory. You had wracked your brain enough about it. Josh was right and you knew it, it’s been nearly 10 years but you hadn’t always had feelings for Jake. For a while actually you would nearly gag at the mere thought. Albeit there wasn’t much room for romance during the pre-pubescent “cootie” stage of your life.

Your parents and the Kiszka’s became rather close throughout the years. You and the Kiszka clan wreaked borderline havoc growing up. With all the trouble you got into it was only a matter of time your parents would cross paths. Once they realized the five of you were inseparable they decided there was no use in staying strangers. Danny and his family soon came into the picture and you considered yourselves a bond to never be broken from that point on.

Although Jake had deemed you guy’s best friends summer going into 5th grade year, you were closest to Ronnie in high school. You were girls together. During the time of first periods and finding out boys can be attractive you migrated towards each other and found solace together within the testosterone-tainted group you had formed. You’d always struggled making friends, you didn’t normally speak unless spoken to. You weren’t necessarily shy, you just always felt like you didn’t really fit in with all the rest.

Once you crossed paths with Josh 2nd grade, he left you no choice but to be his friend. He was overly inviting and basically dragged you to join him on whatever crazy idea him and his twin had gotten into next. You chose to not complain given he was actually nice to you and took time in making sure to include you.

You had remained school friends for the years following, hangouts limited to recess and lunchtime until around the summer before 5th grade when you moved a few houses down from their own. You saw them playing outside from your bedroom window one day and begged your mom to run down there and greet your friends.

You and your ponytail came flying out of the house screaming “Josh! Jake! It’s me!!! From Ms. Crowley’s Class!!! I live by you now!!!”

“Y/n!! Is it really you!! We can play at home now!!” Josh exclaimed, his twins' smile growing ten fold.

“You have to meet my brother and sister, we can all play together now!” Jake said, calling out for Ronnie and Sam. You were quickly introduced to the two and although they were a couple years younger, you were kids, and found joy in whatever silly games you had come up with together nonetheless.

As you sat up against the tree cooling off from the intense game of freeze tag you all had just played, you saw Jake walk up and sit beside you.

“I can’t believe you moved close to my house, loser. Today was fun.” the boy said, ruffling your hair.

‘Hey! Quit! I’m not a loser.” you laughed pushing his arm away.

“Yea-huhh, that’s why you couldn’t catch me during tag.” he mocked, you squint your eyes at him playfully before pushing him away from you.

“That’s why you have cooties!” You retaliated feeling defensive now.

“See! Sore loooserrr” Jake sing-songed.

‘You’re being a meanie now Jakey, it’s just a game” you pouted looking to your feet. You probably were just being sensitive but you hadn’t known better. His expression softened realizing his words might’ve stricken a nerve.

“Oh come on, you know I’m kidding, you’re my new best friend. Especially now that we live so close” he said, lips tugging into a shy smile as he softly elbowed at your side. You whipped your head up to look at him

“You think I’m your best friend? You promise?” You said as hopeful eyes met his own. No one had ever made it a point to deem you as such. A friend is one thing, but a best friend was something far more special in your mind.

“Pinky promise.” he assured, hooking your smallest of fingers with his own.

————————————————————————————

The sentiment was sweet and you were thankful you had friends like them growing up, it made life a little easier knowing you had a constant. Easier until teenage hormones came into the picture and Jake was no longer your boy-ish ‘best friend’ and had started growing handsomely into his features. His face became more chiseled, his chest a bit more filled out, voice dropping a couple octaves lower and not to mention he grew taller. It all happened too fast for your awkward teenage self to process. One day he was regular old Jake and the next he was…hot.

So, you did what you thought was best. Denied any and all attraction and gaslighted yourself into thinking it would go away. It was Jacob for fucks sake, your life-long friend who you considered a brother to you. You and Ronnie had gotten suspiciously closer that year, you brushed it off as ‘needed girl time’ but as years passed you realized you were just trying to distract yourself from Jake in hopes that if you saw him less, the attraction would eventually metastasize.

Boy were you wrong because Jake was adamant on including you in every hangout as he began to gain popularity. You had convinced yourself things would drift off throughout high school, thinking the boys would deem themselves ‘too cool’ to hang with you now and the silly pinky promise he made would be brushed off as immature to him. But it wasn’t, he instead kept his promise. His friends soon becoming your own, girlfriends never lasting long because ‘you and Ronnie are more important to me than any other girl’ he says. Finding yourself at their house more often than you had expected for this new chapter of your life and before you knew it, you had grown closer than ever, and your growing crush more suppressed than ever.

You were shaken out of your thoughts as your phone began buzzing. An incoming call from none other than Veronica herself. You quickly picked it up, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Girl where are you?! You promised you’d be here by the time I got here” you heard her whine on the other end. “Everyone is already mingling, the boys are late yet again and I have no one!” You laughed into the line knowing she was just exaggerating.

“Oh come on Ron, it can’t be that bad you know Mike a-and Dave’s girlfriend.” You tried reasoning, knowing you’d be just as anxious if your friends hadn’t showed up just yet.

“I’m sure they’re already there, talk to them for a little bit okay? I’m sorry, I’m leaving now I just got caught up finding what to wear” you continued, not necessarily a lie although you didn’t want her to know the real reason you were stalling was because today could possibly change the entire trajectory of your life. Dramatic to say the least, but true.

“It’s okay y/n, I was giving you shit. I’ll be fine… wait a minute. Did you say you were looking for something to wear?? You’ve never cared about that stuff, who are you trying to look good forrrrrr?” she teased.

“‘Oh hush Ronnie, it's just been a while since I’ve gone out and felt hot. Just needed a boost of confidence today is all, no secret fella or anything” you giggled.

“Yet…” she laughed.

“Yea yea whatever, let me go so I can head over” you said grabbing your keys and slipping on your shoes.

“Okay okay, byeeee love you!” She said before quickly hanging up.

“Love you too” you said to no one in particular, smiling to yourself at your dear friend's abruptness.

There was no reason for you to be so nervous, it’s just the boys and Ronnie. It was Jake that had you so uneasy. You had replayed yours and Josh’s conversation enough times to knock some sense into yourself. You weren’t going to lay it on him full force but tonight was your chance to let your guard down and not shy away from him. Maybe even flirt, as best you could anyway, if things were smooth sailing. He’s been single for some time this was your chance to maybe plant a couple seeds. You wanted to see if there was even the slight off-chance he may just like you back and you’d be able to look back at how foolish keeping it from him was.

It was easier said than done as you started second guessing your entire look. You felt as though everyone would think you were trying too hard but that wasn’t the case, you’d gone out in more extravagant looks than the white linen sundress you settled on. It was flowy and stunning, casual but beautiful enough to make you feel at your best. Your hair cascaded beautifully down your back from your blowout, you put on your expensive perfume. You felt great, the only significant difference was that you wore a little extra makeup and you took the time to do your nails. You knew it was purely the anxiety talking. Plus, no one even knows how you feel about him other than Josh.

In attempts to calm yourself, your hand reaches for your phone as you stop at a light. Opening your Spotify you hit shuffle on your playlist. You sighed and smiled as the familiar guitar from Cannock Chase by Labi Siffre started playing. You and Jake loved this song, singing it on too many drunken nights to count. It truly was a beautiful song. You decided to just enjoy yourself and let the evening take its course rather than stressing out about it.

————————————————————————————

You pull into the long driveway of your friend Spencer’s house seeing all the cars parked out front. You find a good spot and walk up to the door seeing a few others talking by the front steps, you recognize his fiancé and smile politely walking towards her.

“My god, y/n is that you? You look absolutely stunning.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around you before pulling away and linking arms, guiding you towards the entrance of her and Spencer’s shared home.

“Mmm and you always smell amazing, have you been inside yet? We missed you like crazy, Ronnie’s been inside waiting. I think the boys are here already though-“

“Thank you Claire, I appreciate it. I’ll be sure to find them” you cut her off smiling gently as you gave her hand one last squeeze before stepping inside. Claire is a lovely woman but has a bad habit of rambling, you find it endearing but others seem to tire of her rather quickly.

Upon crossing the threshold into their home you’re immediately greeted by the short brunette.

“Finally! The boys are here, come on, we've been wondering where you were.” You nervously laughed as Ronnie grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the backyard.

You weave through the small bunch of people gathered in the living room and kitchen before you walk through to the sliding door, stepping onto the patio. Josh spots you and immediately heads over to give you the warmest of hugs.

“I knew it was you, I’d recognize that perfume anywhere. Glad you could make it little one” you smiled in his embrace at his terms of endearment, your cheeks warmed at the sentiment.

“Thank you Joshy, I’m so happy to finally see you. It’s been far too long.” you smiled up at him before you were quickly swept away.

You startled as you felt strong arms wrap around your waist from behind lifting you up and twirling you. You laughed recognizing the familiar cologne, you see his chestnut brown locks as he sets you down.

“And who might this lovely lady be?” Jake jokes, stepping back to get a good look at you.

“What an extravagant greeting, I see you’ve been gone long enough to forget about a girl like me” you joked back, hand coming up to rest on our chest as you feigned a look of hurt. Your favorite bit with him now taking it’s course.

“Ahhh, nonsense. A girl like you? Unforgettable'' he assured in his familiar cockney accent flashing you that infamous smirk you’ve grown to love. You looked down bashfully as you blushed yet again. You’ve almost grown sick of how quickly he can turn you into mush, you know he means nothing by it. You can’t help but wish maybe he did.

“Oh come on, you’re just saying that.” You laughed as you walked over to pour yourself some wine. Opting for a white this time given your attire. God forbid your nerves get the better of you and you spill it all over yourself.

You can’t help but notice you and Jake had accidentally coordinated outfits. He bore a cream colored blazer, akin to his cream colored pants. The muted brown button up he had on underneath was unsurprisingly left open with a couple of his pendants decorating his chest. He looked handsome, to say the least.

“Hmm you don’t sound so excited to see your lifelong friend, I’ve been gone for months and this is the treatment I receive?” He exaggerates, giggles escaping between words not able to take himself seriously.

“I thought we were besties y/n” he laughs, feigning a hurt expression knowing that would make you crack.

You can’t help but let a giggle escape your lips, the joke now running dry.

“Alright, alright. I guessss I missed you '' you say, wrapping both your arms around his waist. He gives the quickest peck to the top of your head.

“It’s good to see you sunshine, been too long” he gives you one last squeeze, you smiled at the old nickname he called you as you pulled away.

“Did you forget about us?!” You hear Danny exclaim. You whipped your head towards the back door sliding closed as the self-proclaimed “better half” of the band stepped outside.

“How could I? With the million random voice notes I’m sent a day…not a chance” You tease walking up to hug Sam.

“Glad I could aid, you look fantastic y/n. Definitely better than when we left” Sam teased tapping his chin as if in deep thought.

“Hey! Not cool man.” you jokingly retort as Danny comes up to give you a side hug.

“Yeah your hair’s longer or something or..you put on blush? Fuck, I tried. I don’t know what girls do but you look great” Danny says pulling back to examine you, you blushed at all the sweet gestures.

“She’s always been a looker!” Josh blurts in his exaggerated Midwest accent, raising his brows giving you a cheeky smile. You giggle at his candor.

“Yeah? You’re like…glowing, I’m glad to see you so happy. Also I didn’t tell you when I saw you but I don’t know why you were nervous on what to wear, this dress looks beautiful on you” Ronnie says smoothing out the flyaways on the top of your head. You and Josh make eye contact, he flashes you a look knowing exactly why you were nervous before averting his eyes and taking a sip of his mixed drink.

“Thank you guys I really really appreciate it, but this is a celebration for you! We haven’t seen each other in quite some time, let's make the most of it yeah?” You say raising your glass.

Jake would never say it out loud because he loved teasing you, but you did look rather beautiful today. Sam was right, you looked different. Good different. Maybe it was the hair, or maybe it was having some stress-free months without them. Jake knew they could be quite the handful and maybe this time away from each other caused this new glow, so he thought.

Whatever it was, he admired the way your hair blew softly in the wind. How the midday sun had created the perfect glow on your skin. He especially loved how the sweetness of your perfume matched your sweet personality. He was extremely proud to have you in his life.

“Cheers to that!” Sam exclaims raising his seltzer can.

“Alright! First order of business now that we’re all here "Josh butts in, waving a finger in the air. We wait patiently for his supposed plans, all you hear is the faint music for a second before he speaks up again.

“Yeah.. I’ve got nothing. Although it is a rather beautiful day..” he continues looking around at the beautiful midday sunlight. The six of us break into laughter at his wit.

“Doesn’t Spencer have a pool table? I say we play a couple rounds and catch up?" Sam offers looking around for approval.

‘I’m in, everybody down?” Jake speaks up, moving to stand beside you. Hums of approval circulate as we all migrate inside towards the billiards table. Before you fully enter Spencer’s spare room you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning, you're met with Jake's familiar caramel eyes.

“Hey.. whenever you’ve got time, you mind if I get a word alone with you?” He asks. You should feel worried given the question but he seemed…excited? You couldn’t precisely read the emotion clouding his irises.

‘Um, sure. I-is everything okay” you couldn’t help the anxiety that burned in your chest.

“More than. Just gotta share something special with you.” He says flashing you a warm smile, quickly easing your nerves.

“Okay then, I’d love that.” You smile before you two make your way inside the room seeing a couple of others have also decided they wanted a go at pool. You spot Ronnie sitting next to Danny on the loveseat and plop down beside her. Taking a long sip from your wine.

“Thirsty?” She laughs, boy she has no idea.

“Yea just needed some refreshment in my life, you know?” you wink at her before setting your glass on the table beside you. She giggles before continuing her conversation with Danny. You watch as the boys argue over who gets solids and who gets stripes.

“You ever gonna learn how to play pool y/n?” Jake teases knowing you’ve never been the best at it. You decide to entertain it.

“Only if I come across a good enough teacher.” You quip smiling up at him.

“Come on then, I think I know a guy” he smirks, reaching his hand out to help you up. You gently take his into your own, pulling yourself onto your feet. Josh takes your spot on the couch as Jake walks you both towards the table and hands you the stick.

You smile at Sam on the other side of the table. You immediately try and get into position going solely based on what you’ve seen. You hear a chuckle behind you as Jake presses himself against your back and adjusts your aim so it’s pointing towards the white ball. Your breath hitches in your throat at the proximity. He clears his throat before abruptly stepping back and shoving his hands in his pockets. Weird.

“Your position was correct, but you were pointing at the black one..you definitely don’t wanna shoot at that just yet” he laughs. “The white one does your dirty work, use it to bounce a striped ball into the closest hole. You and Sam will take turns shooting at your respective balls unless-“ you can’t help but snort, you quickly cover your mouth realizing you’ve interrupted him.

“Hey, get your mind out of the gutter” you just shrug as he smiles. He continues on demonstrating and explaining the rules until you feel confident enough to play a match by yourself. You were grateful Jake has always been so patient with you.

‘You got this y/n!” You hear Ronnie cheer, flashing you her bright smile. You blow her a kiss as Sam initiates the game. Your turn comes and you throw your hair over your shoulders and lean into position. Jake quickly averts his eyes to be respectful although Josh wasn’t shy with it at all.

“Damn mama, lookin good.” he playfully winks, raising his glass to you.

“Oh hush” you laugh before making your first shot that unfortunately didn’t go in but after a couple tries you got the hang of it and you and Sam were down to a close match. You hear Danny and Josh narrating the match like some football game as it comes down to the last few balls on the table until eventually only the 8-ball remains.

This was it. You were one hit away from winning, if you missed this Sam would win and you wouldn’t let that boastful man win any time soon. You may have calmed down over the years but you were still just as competitive as your younger self. You adjust the stick between your fingers, closing one eye to aim just right.

Point. Shoot.

The familiar thud of the ball falling in sounds. You swiftly turn to the long-haired man standing behind you.

“I did it Jake, I did it!!” You exclaim getting lost in the short high of your win. Letting your excitement get the best of you, you tackle him in a hug wrapping your arm around his neck.

“Can’t believe it took you so long to give in and actually play” he says, arms still wrapped around you, pulling back and staring at you. The realization settling in that you may be way too close for comfort. You swore you saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, you brushed it off as wishful thinking. You allow your eyes to run across his face a couple times. Seeing how the tour has treated him. His stubble subtly grew atop his lip, focusing on how soft they looked. His hands tighten around your waist as his breathing picks up. You realize you’ve lingered for too long as silence washes over the room.

You loosen your grip on him and step away from his embrace. You look around seeing everyone had dispersed talking with others. Suddenly feeling very awkward, you clear your throat adjusting the fabric of your dress before combing your fingers in your hair in an attempt to recollect yourself seeing as you now feel incredibly flushed. You clear your throat before speaking up.

“I think I’m gonna step out for a sec” you smile meekly, grabbing your glass.

“N-no yeah, by all means” he gestures towards the door adjusting the lapel of his coat that you had so desperately clung onto moments before.

————————————————————————————

You rush out smiling politely at everyone you pass on your way to the back deck. The sun has started to set, the beautiful golden hour shining brighter than ever across the yard. You step outside feeling the breeze brush past your skin, quietly thankful there was no one out here. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you sit on the porch swing.

You stare off trying to process whatever the fuck that was. God, he just made your heart flutter without any thought. The way he leaned up against you. The way his eyes seemingly locked onto your lips for a split second. It was all too much, were you being delusional? Either way you needed a breather before you made any mistakes. He was your friend, he would never deem you as anything more. He’s seen all your ugly awkward phases, there’s no way he’d see you in any sort of romantic light especially with the amount of beautiful women he meets, he could have anyone.

“Can we talk?” You heard his voice as the sliding door shut. You turn and meet Jake’s eyes as he steps closer in your direction.

“Of course! Sorry, I didn’t mean to just run off. I think the riesling might’ve gotten to me a bit” you force a laugh.

“Come sit” you continue as you pat the spot next to you on the swing. He adjusts his coat before taking a seat and running his hands through his hair.

“Ahh don’t worry about it, I just figured I wanna tell you sooner than later. This is special to me and I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while” his tight-lipped smile showing as he toys with his bracelets before looking up and turning to face you.

He grabs both your hands in his and your heart beat quickly accelerates.

“You’re important to me, y/n. And I think it’s time I share this with you, I can’t hide it any longer. I've been avoiding it because I couldn’t find the right words to say…” he says as his eyes lock in on your own, his thumb gently rubbing over your fingers.

What the fuck is happening? You think to yourself.

“What is it, Jake? You can tell me anything you know..” you say hopeful eyes gazing up at him.

If this was going in the direction you’d hoped, all your dreams would come true. You quickly brushed it off not wanting to get your hopes up.

“I know, sunshine.” He chuckles softly.

“Um, I wanna start by saying I value how close we are which is why I need to make this known..”

Oh my god, is he…

“I’ve been deciding on wether or not I want to pursue this and I don’t think the answer could’ve been clearer, its been in front of me this whole time for fucks sake” he gives a breathy laugh as he scoots closer, eyes boring into your own. His eyebrows furrow for a moment like he’s unsure if he should continue but it's quickly replaced by a smile.

This is it.. is this his way of telling you he feels it too?

“Fuck it I’m just gonna say it..”

Please say what I think you're gonna say..

“Yeah?” You prod, the hope in your tone making you internally cringe.

“..I started seeing someone from our crew…i really like her y/n” he smiled looking at his shoes.

Oh.

The minute those words left his mouth your world seemingly went mute. Your ears rung like you had just been dunked under water. Your smile faded as your face became agonizingly hot and your throat tightened. How could you be so foolish? You should’ve known better. Of course he wasn’t about to confess his undying love for you as you would to him, you let your hopeless romanticism take over and now you’ve hurt your own feelings. Your dress suddenly feeling too tight on your body. You hair was touching all the wrong places. There probably was no need for the internalized dramatics but you wanted to crawl out of your own skin right now.

“Earth to y/n? Aren’t you gonna say anything” he laughs, scanning your face for any sort of emotion. You’d learned how to keep a good poker face dealing with his plethora of girlfriends. You faked a bright smile as tears threatened to spill over.

“Y-yeah!” You clear your throat realizing your voice has broken.

“Is everything okay?” He asks cutting you off before you could continue on. You still kept the insufferably wide fake smile on your face.

“Everything’s great! I'm just so happy for you Jakey, she must be a very special girl and I'm glad you’ve found someone who can put a smile like that on your face” you said, taking your hands from his grasp and rubbing his arm. You made sure to bring out your old nickname for him to convince him you were being sincere.

Jake was listening intently but knew you were lying. He’s known you for years, if he had know any better he’d say you looked heartbroken but decided not to press on it.

‘There’s no way she’s upset, she sees me as just a friend.’ Jake thinks to himself.

“Y-yea i just wanted to tell you today ‘cause she’ll be here any minute now and i’d love for you and Ronnie to finally meet her” he says, now seemingly unsure of himself.

“Wow! Y-yeah.. I mean I’d love to!” You say nervously running your fingers through your hair. God, how were you gonna get through meeting her so soon after the love of your life, who didn’t know he was the love of your life, had just single-handedly shattered your heart.

“Great, i'm so happy you’re my best friend sunshine” he says standing up opening his arms signaling he wants a hug. You rise and give him a quick embrace.

“Yea… me too.” You say as you try and fight off the tears once his arms wrap around you.

You excuse yourself to grab another drink. You rush inside but of course you just had run into Josh on your way to find the strongest bottle of alcohol this house could provide.

“Woah slow down little lady— hey… you okay?” he says, noticing your glossy eyes.

“Peachy. Now, if you’ll excuse me for just one second” you say trying to squeeze past.

“Ah-ah-ah, not until you tell me what’s got you in such a hurry.” He says grabbing your wrist.

“I just need a second alone, please josh..” your voice trails off into whisper, you were trying your best to stay composed but the more he kept poking and prodding at this fresh wound the more afraid you were of completely imploding.

“Oh, okay..” he complies, releasing his grip as he watches you snatch the entire bottle of wine and make your way to the guest bathroom. You were gonna need some liquid courage to withstand meeting whoever this chick is. You didn’t mean to be so sour but you felt foolish.

————————————————————————————

You sat down on the closed toilet seat after locking the bathroom door and thanked whomever that this wine bottle was a twist cap. You took a few sips before processing everything.

10 years.

10 years of convincing yourself that this would go away, but it somehow only grew stronger.

10 years of being irrevocably in love with one of your closest friends.

You were stupid enough to think he would feel the same way when he’s legitimately touring the world and has any girl he chooses at his feet.

Why couldn’t it be me?

I should’ve spoken up sooner. It’s all too late. Would he have even liked me back?

You let your head drop as tears clouded your vision, you succumbed to just letting them fall freely now that you were in private.

You wept for your inner teenage self knowing all she wanted got squashed right before your eye. Life can turn on a dime, you shouldn’t have wasted so much time hoping one day he just might make a move. I mean josh was right, you pathetically remained single because you only had eyes for his brother… for the most part. You’ve mingled but none of them could ever truly get your mind off of him. And for what? He’s just a guy. Albeit, a guy who is incredibly kind to you, knows all your in’s and out’s. How you like your coffee, all your favorite songs. He knew that you had to sleep with one extra blanket in bed because the only way you can fall asleep is if you're wrapped up in it. He knew that you would only ever accept flowers if at least one of the petals has wilted because lest we forget, we too are all but a little damaged. He’d grown to know all your weird habits as if it was second nature to him. He was what every girl desired.

You'd devoted yourself to him, built your life around him almost. Your earliest memories are plagued with him and his family and now everything has come crashing down faster than you can handle. You had a feeling deep down that you needed to get over him years ago so who are you to sit here and feel sorry for yourself. You knew better than to think he could ever love you back. You knew blind faith would come back to bite you in the ass.

It was stupid to wait so long with all these bottled up feelings towards him, you feel like you’ve wasted so much of your time helplessly hoping in silence and now who were you meant to seek advice from. You can’t tell your best friend he’s just broken your heart because you’ve been madly in love with him since you were seventeen. You can’t tell Ronnie because, although you’re incredibly grateful for it, she would come to your immediate defense and the last thing you wanted was a big fallout at their welcome home party. You’ve never been in more internal conflict than now.

You allowed yourself to shed a couple more tears before touching up your makeup and chugging down some more of the cheap Riesling. They would come looking for you any second now.

You collected yourself taking one last glance in the mirror before exuding a shaky breath as your hand reached to turn the knob. Stepping outside your met with Josh leaned up against the wall. Was he waiting for you to get out?

“There you are..” he whispered, swiftly grasping your arm and dragging you right back into the bathroom.

“J-josh what the fuck? What are you doi-“ you were cut off by him shushing you and locking the door.

“Listen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he would actually make it official with her. I thought she was some fling of his. If I had known I would’ve warned you.”

“So you know about our conversation?” You softly ask, trying to tame the lump growing in your throat.

“Yea, she’s here and Jake said you ran off after he told you he wanted to introduce you to her”

“Oh my god, I probably embarrassed myself. I wasn’t thinking Josh, I was just afraid I’d lose it in front of him” You say bringing your hands up to rub your temples. Josh reaches to grab your wrists, holding your arms in front of you.

“Hey, hey.. stop stressing yourself out. Everything happens for a reason, okay? You didn’t embarrass yourself, no one suspects a thing. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, it's pretty big news for you” he says, thumb rubbing gently on your forearms. The waterworks were conjuring up again, a small tear slipped as you met his eyes.

“I waited too long Josh…” you whispered.

“You were right. I shouldn’t have done this to myself. I-I mean, am I crazy for wishing someone could love me the way I love them?” You questioned rhetorically, your teary eyes staring into Josh’s pity-filled ones. You hated how he was staring at you. You didn’t need pity, you knew the mess you got yourself into.

"Not crazy at all, sunshine.” Hearing Jake's nickname for you coming out of Josh’s mouth felt wrong. Especially right now.

“Come on. let's take a deep breath and greet the guest, shall we?” He offers. You inhale a sharp breath before nodding your head in compliance, it was gonna happen one way or another, might as well man up for now and wallow in the privacy of your own home.

————————————————————————————

You both make your way into the living room seeing everyone gathered around the couch. A few people seemed to have gone home, there were a lot less people than when you showed up. Sam, Dan, and Ronnie sat on one couch.

Your eyes peered over to Jake in the kitchen talking to a beautiful blonde. She was wearing black silk blouse and some mom jeans. It was casual but elegant, you envied how effortlessly pretty she was.

“Hey.. stop getting in your head.” Josh whispered in your ear. Claire and Spencer waved for you to come join everyone. You took your seat as Ronnie got up from her spot next to Sam and came over to sit next to you.

“Where were you? You like..disappeared” she giggled. You smiled at her as best you could.

“The wine wasn’t sitting well, I needed a breather” you laugh hoping she believed you.

The only reason you never told any of your friends about your feelings for Jake was because at first you were convinced it would go away, so why embarrass yourself by telling someone something only for it to not be true in a few weeks and potentially jeopardize an entire friendship. Then as the years went on of you gaslighting yourself into thinking it would go away, all of a sudden 10 years had gone by.

“Ugh I feel you, Sam made me the nastiest marg earlier. I thought I was gonna yak” she says clutching her stomach. You laugh along with her, thankful she didn’t pry any further.

You were broken from your conversation as Jake walked in the room, his hand locked in hers as he guided her in.

“Alright everyone, this is Laura. My beautiful girlfriend.” He says leaning in to kiss her cheek. Jake seemed like he’s had one too many, his words slightly slurring but you don’t question any further. She politely smiled and greeted everyone. Jake notices you, his eyes twinkle before shining you a bright smile and gesturing for her to come meet you.

“Y/n, Laura. Laura, y/n.. this lovely lady has been one my best friends since elementary school” he introduces, slurring his words a bit gesturing towards you with an open palm. You smile wide and rise to give her a quick hug, Josh watching you intently. Your hospitality is admirable.

“Oh my gosh! You’re y/n! I've heard so much about you, I love your dress” she compliments.

Fuck. She’s actually really nice, it sounds terrible to say but you were secretly hoping she was bitch so you wouldn’t feel as bad for being so upset. Your moral compass however, refuses to allow you to feel negatively towards anyone undeserving.

“Thank you, you're so kind. It’s a pleasure to meet you” you smile bright as your cheeks flush from the sincerity of the compliment. She excuses herself to the bathroom, as Jake gestures for the two of you to take a seat yet again. The constant sitting and standing was starting to wear you out.

“Soooo what’d you think?” He says

“Short interaction, but she seems like a great girl Jakey. As long as you're happy I’m happy.” You give a tight-lipped smile, toying with a loose string on your dress.

“That’s it? That’s all you're gonna say?” he asks, stumbling over his words. There’s a certain tone he brought on that you didn’t like.

“W-well I don’t know what you want me to say… a-are you drunk right now?” You say, now adopting a confused expression.

“You could at least act a little more enthused for me. I mean do you even care at all? I was excited for the two of you to meet” he says, scooting back in his spot. He seemed offended, where was all this coming from?

“I-I’m sorry? I don’t know why you’re getting so upset with me. What do you want me to do Jake?” You say lowering your tone so the others around you do catch wind of whatever disagreement this seemed to be.

“You know what…just forget it, you could at least act like you care.” He spat, harshly grabbing his drink and abruptly leaving from his spot beside you. You sat there in shock.

What the fuck.

Your face suddenly felt hot, your throat tightened aggressively. You needed to get out of this house. You did care, too much. That’s why you felt your entire body go numb as tears clouded your vision. Why was he being so mean? Today has been the worst day ever. You swiftly get up from the couch and collect your things. You think you’ll make it with a successful Irish goodbye but of course with your luck, Josh catches you just before you slip out the front door.

‘Hey, where are you going” he asks.

“I can’t josh, I need to leave. I’m so sorry I just- I don’t know what came over him or how much he drank in the amount of time between our conversation and now but suddenly I’m the bad guy?? I don’t even know what I did wrong, apparently I don’t care enough? When you and I both know that’s far from the truth. I just wanna go home josh…please. I think I really fucked it this time and I need to process everything a little bit, okay? I really don’t mean to ruin your welcome home party, truly. I’m so glad to see you guys and maybe you and I could grab lunch this weekend to make up for me leaving so soon and bringing this drama.” You ramble, furiously wiping the tears streaming down your face. Josh doesn’t say anything, he just frowns and pulls you into a much needed hug.

“Alright mama, don’t worry about it.. you haven’t ruined anything. He probably had too much to drink. As far as I’m concerned I’m the only one who knows about this little fallout. Text me when you’re home, okay? Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” He questions.

“I’m okay, I was only kinda tipsy and that whole thing really sobered me up.” You let out a pathetic laugh at how humorous this all was. He rubs your arm before allowing you to make your way out.

You felt guilty for leaving so early, you didn’t mean to make it about you and you would’ve stuck it out but given Jake's newfound attitude towards you, you didn’t feel very welcomed anymore. Maybe you could’ve been more enthused but this was also heavy news for you. You start feeling regretful as you realized you had been a bit insensitive. You would have shown more joy for your best friend but how were you meant to give any more than that?? I mean she left for the bathroom in the middle of the greeting for fucks sake.

You sighed feeling at a loss. Granted, your feelings weren’t his responsibility but how exactly was he expecting you to react? You weren’t necessarily jumping with joy at the idea. But then again, he had no idea about your feelings. In his eyes, his best friend wasn’t matching his energy on something he deemed important. You start wracking your brain on everything you could’ve done to avoid this, essentially kicking yourself while your already down.

You make it to your car, hoping to just go home, have a night of reflection in a warm bath. As you sit down your phone vibrates in your hand.

Message from: Sam Wam Bam🕺🏻

-some friend you are..

Sam?? What the fuck? Why is he saying that?

Message from: Jake ❤️

-don’t even bother reaching out anymore.

wow.

He must’ve said something to Sam. Now sam probably thinks you were being a shit friend and ditched him and his brother at their own welcome back party after sharing the news with everyone.

You dropped your head to rest on your steering wheel as you realized you seemed inconsiderate to the people who didn’t know about your repressed feelings for the man. You felt like you ruined everything. You knew better than to get your hopes up, why did you think today would be any different and he would spontaneously have feelings for you? Foolish.

You let out a sob at their messages knowing this whole situation has been misunderstood. Because of it, everything was crumbling down around you.

So…thoughts? How we feelin’?

329 notes · View notes

joshsjipple · 2 months

Text

Baby, It's Cold Outside pt 1

JAKE KISZKA X FEMALE READER

Word Count: 4.1k

WARNINGS: 18+ graphic sexual content, angst (kinda an enemies to lovers), talk of blood, injury, pain from said injury, unprotected sex (cmon guys), praise kink, oral sex (f/m/rec), rough fingering, language, slaps like once, p in v, dom and sub (can go both ways), fluff etc etc.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

Spending Christmas in the freezing cold was not ideal, but then again, neither was being involved in a skiing accident. Could you even call it that? It was a pathetic story, really. You’ve never been one for sports or anything that required you to move at top speed while having to maintain balance, so when your mom asked you to ski with everyone today, you were dumbfounded. It was fun for a while–watching your parents attempt to take on the slopes. That feeling didn’t last long because sooner or later, you were reminded you didn’t come alone on this trip.

Your mother and Karen were best friends throughout high school and stayed in touch through adulthood. At least twice a year, both of your families would leave town together and embark on an adventure. You’d hoped they’d stop inviting you, or atleast stop inviting Karen’s kids, after you all graduated. That didn’t happen. In fact, it only made them extend the trip so they would have more time to spend more time with their grown kids.

Josh zooms by you, a high pitched inaudible scream leaving his mouth as he does so. You giggle and playfully roll your eyes. You never had a problem with Josh, besides the fact he could get a bit talkative. He was kind, patient, and fun; the exact opposite of his twin brother, Jake. He, on the other hand, was snarky, rude, and dead silent. You’d tried to give him a chance for a few years, but he’d just end up ignoring your friendly gestures. Eventually, you stopped trying. You thought that was the end of it, but boy were you wrong.

From that point on, Jake made it his lifelong goal to poke and prod at you. He knew what ticked you off by now and he put that to use the whole week you spent together. No one else heard it, but they all noticed the mean stares you’d give each other at the dinner table. Everyone seemed to stay out of it for the most part, sweeping it under the rug for the time being. Josh knew, but only because he was the one person you could stand on your trips.

Now, perched on the top of a snow-covered hill, you stare down it. Josh’s long gone, joining the rest of the crew down at the bottom and of course, leaving you and Jake at the top. He slides in next to you, his sticks jabbing into the ground to help hold him in place. He’s wearing a giant coat with fur lining the hood, his face barely visible. Giant goggles sit on his nose, making his eyes unnoticeable. You look over at him, trying to figure out if he’s going or if you are.

“Are you just going to stand up here with your jaw dropped?” he asks cooly, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yes, actually. I was thinking about grabbing a flag and claiming it.” you reply plainly.

Jake doesn’t respond, but he moves a step closer to you. “See that treeline?” he points to your right. “There’s a gap right there. Take it as a shortcut and surprise them from behind.”

You roll your eyes, shifting from side to side. “Yeah right.”

“Too scared?” he says in a baby voice, close enough to your ear that you could feel his breath if it weren’t for your ten layers of clothes.

“What? No!” you growl defensively, pushing him away from you.

“Prove it.” he bites.

Rolling your eyes, you push off the hill. Feeding off of Jake’s words, you lean left and you gradually slip through the path he was talking about. You hear him shout from behind you, but figuring it’s just him cheering, you continue. Over time, you pick up speed. You’re steadily moving down the path that seems to be getting narrower with every tree you pass. You hear another frantic shout and when you look to your left, you see Jake on the main path. He’s leaning to the left, desperately crawling to you. He shouts something, his fingers pointing to you. When you turn to see what has his attention, you’re too late.

A giant tree had grown right down the middle of the path. You scream as you cascade through the thick branches. Losing your footing, you begin to tumble, your body banging against the wood. From the force, your coat is ripped open, allowing a sharp branch to tear into the side of your torso. You scream, feeling the hot blood already trickling down your stomach. Once you’re past the tree, you roll a few more times before abruptly coming to a stop. Luckily, it snowed the night before so your landing is awfully comfortable.

You lay there for a moment, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened. Lifting your head, you note that if you hadn’t been exactly where you were, you’d probably never be able to walk again. You hear a muffled voice, and when you see Jake moving towards you, your stomach begins to sting. Your hand immediately addresses the wound and you hiss through gritted teeth. Jake falls to your side, his hands frantically moving in the air as he tries to decide what to do.

“Are you okay?” he asks, a bit of concern in his voice.

“Jesus, do I look okay?” you growl.

He opens his mouth to speak but gets distracted by the voices of your families approaching. In record timing, your mother is by your side, cradling your head. Everyone’s talking around you and when your eyes find Josh, his eyebrows are drawn together.

“Does anything else hurt?” your mother asks, her eyes wide.

“No, I’m fine.” you say. “It’s just a scratch.”

You’re right. It’s not like there’s a gaping hole in your abdomen, just a large scrape. Your face has some as well, and it stings when your mother cups your cheeks. As your parents discuss, you notice Josh and Jake talking just loud enough for you to hear.

“I literally just said to tell her to stay away from that path.” Josh scolds his brother.

“I know.” Jake replies through pursed lips.

“Someone needs to take her back up to the cabin.” Karen says from a few feet away.

“Jake will.” Josh says with a wide grin. “Isn’t that right?” Jake responds by shooting daggers at him, but reluctantly shakes his head in agreement.

“No. I will.” your mom says.

“Mom, you were having fun…” your voice trails off. “I’m sure Jake can make sure I get back okay.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. You nod and squeeze her hand. “Alright.”

She backs away from you and helps you to your feet. Your legs are sore and your body undeniably needs a reset, but you’re not paralyzed. You rest on your mother until Jake’s prepared enough to drag you up the hill. When she hands you over like a prized possession, you’re sure to put all of your weight on Jake. He curses under his breath and then waves your mother off.

“This may be a bad time to mention it, but I love your perfume.” Jake says with a friendly smile.

“I heard you and Josh talking. And I’m not wearing any perfume.” you breathe loudly.

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Since when do you ever listen to me?” he defends himself as he begins to haul you up the hill.

“Doesn’t matter! Why would you tell me to do it?”

“Well at least you didn’t die.” he chirps.

“Shut up.”

———————

By the time the two of you reach the cabin, you’re both sweating. Jake collapses as soon as he steps up the stairs. You roll your eyes and step over him, your hand holding your clothes to stop the bleeding from your wound. Seen as your coats almost ripped to shreds, it takes you only a few minutes to strip into a single layer. Your shirt is torn at the seams, so you toss it in the trash can as you pad down the hallway to your room.

Removing all your clothes, you examine the wound. It’s still fresh and blood oozes from out of it. Your head spins as you stare, your stomach queasy. Deciding you can’t take anymore, you resort to the last wanted option.

“Jake!” you shout loud enough he can hear it from outside. After a few moments you hear the door open and shut. “Grab the first aid kit and come here.”

In a few minutes, the handle on your door turns and Jake stumbles in. Your hand is pressed against the wound, your jaw clenched tightly. Jake’s steps falter as his eyes scan over you. His eyes smolder with intensity and widen slightly. Swallowing loudly, he runs his hand over the back of his head. You stare at him in confusion until you realize you’re in nothing but a bra and underwear.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch?” you snap.

“Y-you want me to help you with that?” he over enunciates the last word, making your eyes roll.

“You did this Jake, not me.” you sneer and narrow your eyes. He blinks rapidly for a second, his eyes glued to the ground. “Jake. I’m gonna bleed out.”

“Sorry.” he mumbles, taking a seat next to you and opening the kit. “What do I need?”

“I think I should rinse the blood off first.” you say, hissing as you touch the scrape. “Wanna start the bath?”

Jake groans, but disappears to start the water. A few minutes later he returns and helps you to your feet. You take tentative steps, your head spinning. Once you reach the bathroom, you toy with the clasp of your bra. Jake shoots away from you, turning so he’s facing the wall.

“Oh grow up Jake.” you complain, cheeks as red as a tomato.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he remarks.

You remove your clothes and dip your leg into the water. As you slide the rest of the way in, your foot slips and you begin to fall. Jake’s hands grab your under arms and he gently lures you into the warm water. As soon as you’re submerged he steps away and once again, faces the wall.

“That was a quick save, are you sure you weren’t watching?” you joke, enjoying how nervous he is.

“Nothing worth looking at.” he lets out a deep breath and turns to face the door.

“Really? Because Jake junior seems to disagree.”

“Call me when you’re done.” he yells from the hallway, making you laugh to yourself.

You spend the next eight minutes carefully scrubbing your wound. You pay a bit of attention to the ones on your arms and face, cleaning them so they won’t get infected. When you’re clean enough, you yell for Jake to return. When he doesn’t return in a few minutes, you curse and grab a towel. On your feet again, your legs tremble and you’re nauseous again. Stepping out of the tub, your knee gives out just enough to have you clinging onto the edge of the railing.

“Jacob Kiszka!” you yell again, eyes watering from the pressure on your wound.

“Jesus.” he says, grabbing your waist and helping you up straight. “I was coming.”

You smack his chest and push him off of you. When you’re all wrapped up in your towel, Jake helps you back to the room. He waits outside as you find underwear and a bra, and you smile to yourself when he peaks in every once in a while to ‘make sure you’re okay.’ You directed him to soak a gauze pad in saline solution, and when he returns, you’re waiting for him on your bed. His arm extends to you in an attempt to hand you the cloth.

“No. I can’t look at it, I’ll be sick.” you tell him. “Just dab the area.”

He does as he’s told, his weight sinking the edge of the bed. His fingers carefully apply the cloth to your wound and you shudder under his touch. With a sheen of sweat on your face and tight muscles, you focus on Jake. His hands are skilled and callused from the many years he’s been playing guitar. His tongue sticks out from between his two lips, just enough for you to see. The hand that isn’t on your wound, sits on the mattress, brushing against your waist. You’re glad you have the excuse of an injury to hide your unsteady breathing.

“That should be fine, thanks.” you push his hand away. “Grab the gauze and tape.”

Standing to your feet again, you move in front of him. His legs spread open as you slip between them, your cheeks burn intensely. Placing gauze on your wound, you have Jake tape you up. His hands are gentle as they apply the tape across your body. His hands press it down, careful not to apply too much pressure that it will hurt any other scratches. He’s still seated as he works, and you spin so he can apply more on the front for support. Your hands are above your head holding your hair out of his face. He’s almost eye level with your bra, and you watch him do his best not to look. When he’s finished, he clears his throat and pats his legs.

Neither of you move.

His chocolate brown eyes stare up at you, raking over your collarbone and shoulders. He licks his lips as you remove your hands from your hair, allowing it to fan out over your shoulders. His eyes engulf your body, absorbing your skin like he wants to drown in you.

“Gonna apologize yet, Jakey?” you ask, running a finger along his jawline.

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, eyes still bleeding into yours.

“Not exactly what I imagine you doing in my dreams but it’ll suffice.”

You watch his lips part as he stands to his feet, grabbing your shoulders to move you so you’re in front of the bed. Hands gripping your shoulders, he lowers you to the ground. He’s firm, but still wary of your wound.

“Undo my belt.” he directs, thumbs stroking your chin.

“W-what?” you shudder. “My stomach-”

“You don’t suck dick with your stomach, do you?” he asks. When you don’t answer, he smirks and taps your shoulder. “Come on now.”

Without another word, you hastily undo his belt, tossing it to the side. Once his pants are unbuttoned, you pull them to his knees. You stare at him hard in his boxers, your mouth watering. In one swift tug, he’s free and bouncing in front of you. Your hand reaches for him, but he smacks it away and grabs a fistful of hair.

“Tongue.” he demands. You stick it out, flattening it so the tip of him can slide in. He hits the muscle a few times before sliding himself down your throat. You watch his eyes squeeze shut, chest heaving. He pulls out and removes his shirt, leaving the top of him bare. “Tap twice if you want to stop.”

Without giving you time to respond, he shoves himself down your throat. You gag immediately, your chest heaving. He snaps in and out of you, hands tucked into your hair. You concentrate on breathing as he fucks your face. Drool falls from the corner of your mouth and onto the floor, coating your knees. You watch Jake through teary eyes, his head thrown back and mouth wide open.

“That’s my good girl. Your mouth is so much better at this than comebacks.” he groans, his cock twitching in your mouth. Your throat burns as tears stream down your face. “Fuck, gonna cum.”

A few seconds later, he released himself, coating the back of your throat. You gag viciously as you swallow him, his dick still stuffed down your throat. After he’s done, but pulls himself out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. Surprisingly, you’ve forgotten all about your injury.

After a minute of you collecting yourself, Jake grabs your arms and helps you to your feet. Your legs are wobbly from the uncomfortable kneeling position so you lean into his body. He holds you, hands working at the clasp of your bra. You help him, pulling the clothing off your chest entirely. He hums at the sight of you before cupping your cheeks in his hands.

His thumb traces your lips and then wipes tears away from your eyes. You breathe loudly, still gathering yourself. His hands caress your jaw and then move to the back of your neck before trailing down the skin of your back. He’s mindful of where it hurts, and maps it out in his head to remember.

A minute later, your eyes are finally able to find his. He smirks at you and the corner of your mouth twitches upwards. Hands wrapped around your head, thumb resting by your ear, he tugs you into a kiss. It’s soft at first as he tastes himself on your tongue, but slowly gets more heated. Your tongues dance, small whimpers exchanging between the two of you. You pull back to gasp for air, but Jake leans farther in, eyes closed with wet lips parted. You swallow his lips again, sinking into his touch. He trails warm, wet kisses across your chin and nibbles on your neck hard enough to leave a mark. You smile as he kisses across your collar bones and in the space between your aching breasts.

His hand settles on the small of your back while the other begins to push you onto the bed. He watches your facial expressions for any signs of pain, but the only pain you’re paying attention to is the throbbing between your legs. Once you’re fully flattened, he takes one of your breasts into his mouth, the other being occupied by one of his rough hands. He toys with your hardened nipples, swirling his tongue skillfully over the peak of it. He switches, repeating the same actions a few times before capturing your lips in another desperate kiss.

“Jake, I can’t have sex like this.” you admit through heated kisses.

“We won’t. Just let me make this whole thing up to you, okay?” he breathes against your cheek, his fingers messing with the hem of your panties.

“Okay.” you give him permission and he slides down your body.

He kisses your stomach, hands fluttering over your skin. You shiver under his touch, your arousal pooling between your legs. When he reaches your heat, he plants a firm kiss on your clothed pussy, eyes never breaking away from yours. You moan, jaw hanging open. He slips the fabric off of your legs before spreading your thighs with his hand. Hovering above you, he stares into your core.

“Oh she’s pretty.” he licks his lips before laying flat on his stomach. Your heart thumps as you watch his finger drag through your folds. When your hips thrust up, he slips his hands under you and pulls you closer to his mouth. “Watch me.”

You position yourself on your elbows, watching his tongue dig into you. You pull back, a moan falling from your lips. He keeps his grip tight, pulling you back into his mouth. He absorbs you, sucking and twirling his tongue across your bundle of nerves. You’re sweating, breathing heavy as you snake your hands through his chestnut brown locks.

“Fuck, yes.” you whimper. “Feels so good, Jake.”

He pulls back, removing his hands from your ass. You begin to throw a fit, but he pauses that thought when he slides a digit into your entrance. Your eyes immediately roll in the back of your head.

“Keep talking.” he directs. “And don’t move. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” he flashes you a smile that you ignore.

His single finger moves in and out of you at a steady pace, but you’re aching for more. “Add another.” you tell him. He obliges quickly, adding a second finger into the mix.

You arch your back at the feeling, his eyes laser focused on your reaction. Placing the palm of his hand on your lower abdomen, he holds you down against the sheets to keep you from moving. Then, his fingers pick up their pace, curling ferociously inside of you. A bunch of lude, pornographic sounds leave your mouth as you tremble around him.

“Fuck yes, Jake! Feels so good, baby. Don’t stop.” you beg.

The sound of his fingers working into you creates a wet sound through the whole cabin. Desperate to see his face right now, your eyes shoot open and find it. He’s sweating, tongue protruding from his lips like they were when he dabbed your wound earlier. He’s watching his fingers fuck you, encouraging himself quietly.

“Gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he asks. “Come on, pretty girl. Let it go.”

Your legs shake violently as your whole body explodes. Stars flash through your black eyelids, as your body releases. You’re withered underneath him, his name sounding like a prayer from your lips. It takes you a few moments to come out of it, but when you do, Jake’s fingers are in his mouth, sucking your arousal off of his digits. Crawling over you, he places each arm on either side of his head.

“Want a taste? You taste like honey.” he says, grabbing your lips. Your tongue swirls in his mouth, tasting your cum along with his saliva. Your fingers tug at his long hair, body arching against him. He pulls away quickly. “Woah there.”

“Jake it doesn’t hurt.” you tell him. He just stares at you with a raised eyebrow. “Jake! I need you to fuck me right now. I can’t feel it, please.”

“You’re gonna hate me tomorrow.” he groans, parting your legs and lining himself up.

“I hate you right now.” you hiss as he slips into you. Your hands claw at his back as he swiftly moves in and out of you. You curse his name, begging for more.

“What an odd thing to say when my cock is buried in your tight cunt.” he kisses the crown of your head. “God, like fucking velvet baby.”

“Fuck it, Jake. Fuck me like you hate me.” you plead.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

He begins to pound into you, his strokes deep and rough. You cry his name as your skin slaps together, filling the room. One of your hands pulls at the roots of his hair, making him moan into your shoulder. Your other once, digs into his back. Your fingernails dig into his skin, hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn’t complain. His thrusts grow sloppy and his breaths are loud and aggressive.

“You gonna cum for me, Jake?” you ask in a sweet voice.

“You’re the one squeezing me. God, feels so fucking good.” he cries, reaching a hand between your two bodies.

You gasp as his fingers make contact with your clit and begin to rub tight circles into it. You buck from under him, legs trembling as your orgasm rips through you. Jake keeps fucking you until you’re coming down from your high. Quickly, he removes himself from you and positions himself on your stomach.

“You look so pretty when you cum. Even prettier when you moan my name like that.” he grunts, fisting himself.

“Cum for me, be a good boy.” you urge him on. His eyebrows draw together as he shoots his ropes of cum across your stomach. You watch his mouth fall open, eyes clamped shut. “Yeah, baby.” you say as he finishes.

He sits back on his heels, eyes on the ceiling as he breathes. You watch him, taking the time to admire the sheen of sweat across his body. He reaches a hand down and you take it. Carefully, you sit up and he pulls you into his arms. You both sit there in each other’s grasp, your breathing lulling the both of you. His cheek is resting on your head, yours glued to his chest. His hands rub your back, massaging it gently with his callused hands. After a few more moments, you pull away and lay on your back. He joins you, wrapping his arm under your neck for you to use as a pillow.

“Are you okay?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah. Doesn’t even hurt.” you tell him, lying a bit.

“At least when you walk funny tomorrow they won’t think anything of it.” you both share a laugh. “I’m really sorry, by the way. What I did was shitty and inexcusable.”

“Oh well.” you pat his chest. “At least now I know to never trust you again.”

“Hey.” he says, offendedly.

“You’re gonna have to make it up to me.” you say, a finger tracing his jaw.

“How?” he questions.

“I have a few ideas in mind.”

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka smut #josh kiszka smut #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka fic #sam kiszka gvf #jake kiszka fic #jake gvf #gvf smut #gvf

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ageofbajabule · 8 months

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Fic Recommendations

I’ve been working on this for a while, and will add to it the more fics I read and will recommend.

Some of these are completed series, some are WIP series.

All of the work is 18+ NO MINORS: Some of these will contain smut, some might not. So read at your own discretion.

Josh

One Shots

Something About You - @abeautylives

Feather Light - @tripthelightfandomtastic

I Know You Are, But What Am I? - @indigostardustchords

Drift - @gretavangroupie

In Every Life - @joshkiszkasears

Divinity - @gretavanlace

Valtava - @gretavanlace

Long Time Coming - @builtbybrokenbells

Love Me Tender - @holybananafuck

Series

Varansai - @lightmylove-gvf

Bloom - @gretavangroupie

Endless Summer - @anthemofgvf

Deception - @obetrolncocktails

The Professor - @gretavanbear

Strawberry - @stardustshelb

Abaddon - @garbagevanfleet

Jake

One Shots

Voyeur - @gretavangroupie

Give Me Shelter - @gretavanfleetposts

Give Me All You Got - @alwaysonthemend

Use Somebody - @sunshinevanfleet

Series

Cream & Sugar - @sacredthefran

Hands to Yourself - @sinsofstardust

Vigilance - @gretavangroupie @gretavanmoon

Covet - @jakeyt

Lazarus - @garbagevanfleet

Danny

One Shots

Thrills In The Night - @sparrowofthedawnsworld

Rebel Yell - @tripthelightfandomtastic

Series

Four Weddings and a Funeral - @hearts-hunger

Sam

One Shots

Andante, Andante - @gretasmokerising

Not So Strangers - @gvfgal

Series

Pink Lemonade - @garbagevanfleet

Twins

One Shots

Crossfire - @daisyful-gvf

Just For Me - @jake-kiszkas-smirk

Series

Kismet - @gretavangroupie @sacredstarcatcher

Shake My Faith - @capturethechaos

Skin Deep - @streamingcolors-gvf

Stardust Chords - @indigostardustchords

Sugar - @gretavanlace

Poppins - @gretavanlace

Simultaneous - @lightmylove-gvf

Janny

One Shots

Guilty Pleasures - @builtbybrokenbells

Series

Ignition - @obetrolncocktails

Jonny

One Shots

Let’s Share - @joshym

Forbidden Twins

Series

Cruel Summer - @sacredstarcatcher

Gold Dust Woman - @builtbybrokenbells

551 notes · View notes

sparrowofthedawnsworld · 7 months

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Sweet Talker - Sam Kiszka

A/N: Remember when I said it would be a crime not to write a voice kink Sam fic? Yeah. There’s not much of a plot here really, just filth. Only lightly edited! I love you all so, so much!

WARNINGS: 18+!! Fingering, teasing, lots of dirty talk, voice!kink, hair pulling, choking, unprotected sex (be smart, be safe!!)

MASTERLIST

••••

Sam’s voice.

No matter how many times you hear it, it tears its way through your ears and shakes its way through your body in the most knee-buckling ways imaginable.

The slightly raspy, yet soft and almost nonchalant drawl of his words, never fails to send sweet, debilitating chills up your spine. And god, did he fucking know it, too. He notices everything, but particularly loves to clock the little things that turn you on.

When it’s just the two of you, his voice is much softer and quieter than it is when he’s with his brothers, or socializing with others.

While you adore his boisterous laugh and louder tone when he’s excited, that quietness that he seems to save specifically for you, is your favorite. Your weakness.

“What did you do while I was gone today, gorgeous?” Sam asks you quietly, while his hand strokes up and down your bare back softly.

You snuggle further into his bare chest, fingers gliding over his collarbone as you lay on top of him in your shared bed. The two of you lay this way often, partially -or sometimes fully- bare and just talking - Informing the other about the days events. Some days offering much more dramatic of tales than others do.

“Mmm…” You trail off into thought, thinking very little about what you’ve even done throughout the day, but more so the tingle Sam’s voice has just sent through your body and straight to your core. “I didn’t do all that much today, really…”

“That’s a cop out,” his lazy, raspy voice shoots the teasing observation at you, as he glances down at you with that goofy grin of his.

You’re quick to defend yourself. “It is not! I would just ra-“

“-Rather listen to me talk?” You can hear the smile in his voice, the second he cuts you off to finish your sentence for you. “Uh huh, I bet you would.”

A crimson blush paints over your cheeks. You’re incredibly thankful that you can bury your face away into his neck.

“You do this almost every night, doll,” Sam points out, tone smug and knowing. “One of these days, you’re gonna get sick of hearing me talk so much. Now c’mon, tell me about your day and I will tell you all about mine after.”

A faint huff slips through your nose. Of course you want to talk to him about your day…after you take care of the ache making home between your legs that he has caused.

“I spent some time editing some photos… those boudoir ones that I took a couple days ago,” you explain casually, going into as little detail as possible.

“Yeah?” Sam’s hand continues drawing lines up and down your spine - effectively fueling the fire inside of you. The lilt in his tone playfully urges you to continue. “I bet they look beautiful… You should get some done soon…”

You tilt your head to look at him, “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I would love it,” he corrects with a light tap against your nose with his free hand. “The same way you would love a recording of me talking on a five hour loop.”

“That would depend on what you’re saying,” you shoot back, smiling. It doesn’t really matter what Sam was saying, his voice affects you, always. For the sake of guiding your little cuddle session in a different direction, though…

“Oh, really? So a professional recording of me talking about the weather, wouldn’t do anything for you?” Sam jests, bringing his opposite hand up to poke at your side.

“Sam,” you sigh, frustrated by his obvious stalling. He loves to make you wait and suffer and pine, just a little.

“What?” You feel him shrug against you, dropping his voice lower. “Would me telling you exactly how to touch yourself be better? Or me reciting all the praises I know you love so much?”

A shaky breath bursts out of you at that, a clear sign for Sam to continue. He isn’t exactly digging for any verbal answers just yet.

“Ohh, that struck a chord, didn’t it?”

And here he goes, right back to teasing you again.

Wrapping both arms around your body, he carefully flips the two of you over, so that you are laying beneath him.

“That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it? For me to call you pretty and coo in your ear while you cum all over my hand?” He starts to place kisses along your jawline, working his way to the sensitive skin just below your ear. Slipping his hand in between your bodies, he just barely grazes his fingers over your heat, “Just… like… this…?”

Another whimper floats out of you just as Sam moves back up to join his lips with yours.

It’s a slow and sweet kiss at first, tricking you into believing Sam is going to give you exactly what you want, right away. His tongue pushes against yours gently, deepening the kiss and stealing all the air from your lungs until they’re burning and warming you to pull away. But you can’t bring yourself to pull away first.

Sam senses this and every few kisses, he slowly starts to pull away, making you chase after his mouth, wearing a smirk that grows with each of your impatient whimpers as he keeps his lips just out of your reach every time.

“What is it?” He questions knowingly, bringing his hand up to your jaw to keep you in place.

“Sam,” you’re fully pouting now, pushing against his grip in attempts to kiss him more. “You’re always being a tease.”

“Quit pouting.” He nudges your bottom lip with his thumb playfully. “You love it when I tease you. Don’t even try to act like you don’t.”

Sam is right and you know it. He knows you know it, too. You can’t fool him.

He takes your silence as victory, “Uh huh. See?”

The teasing, slightly condescending cadence to his tone sends you reeling all over again. His knowing smirk making your stomach twist with desire and excitement. As it always does.

You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips with all the strength you can muster.

Your lips meet not so gracefully at first, and you swallow down the low chuckle Sam emits before the kiss turns needy and quick in pace.

Sam’s hands start to feel around your body, gripping at your hips, your waist. A soft growl vibrates through his chest. The sound reminds you why you want to be in this position in the first place.

“Sammy…baby.” It comes out almost like a plea. You need to hear him.

“You’re such a needy thing,” Sam says, shaking his head.

“Not needy,” you protest. “Just wanna hear your voice.”

“I was gonna get there, if you would just be patient.” Sam chuckles, hand coming up to wrap around your throat. “Can you do that? Be my sweet, patient, girl?”

All you do is shake your head ‘yes,’ but that’s not good enough for your Sammy. Not in the slightest.

He leans in, lips grazing yours with the formation of each of his words, “That just won’t do. I think you already know that, too. Speak up, princess. Spit it out.”

It’s low and raspy, the demand. You’ll do absolutely anything that his gravely, lust-drawn voice asks of you.

“I’ll be patient for you.” You give in right away. “I’ll be your good girl.”

“Yeah? You’ll be my good girl?” Sam questions, trailing his hand down from your throat to your chest, teasing and toying with your nipple.

“Yes, s-sir.” Your breath catches in your throat, your body warming rapidly as Sam continues to feel around your chest.

“You always are,” Sam sighs, his right hand traveling down your stomach, stopping just shy of your core. “You always listen so well and cum so pretty for me.”

Your hips raise to press harder against his splayed hand, the warmth of it only adding to your body’s excess of heat and need.

Sam leans in even closer, nudging your head to the side with his nose. His lips graze your ear, sending chills up your spine. All while his hand continues it’s decent between your legs.

“What is it, princess?” He notices the way your breath catches in your throat, the soft squeak of a whimper giving you away. He places a few kisses to the pulse point below your ear. “Your heart is racing. Did I get you all worked, sweet girl?”

“Sammy…” It’s a desperate plea, almost embarrassingly whiny - the way his name falls off your tongue.

“I know, I’m gonna make you feel good,” Sam assures you, sliding his middle finger through your folds, sighing as your arousal completely coats his finger. “Is this what my needy girl wanted? For me to talk to her and play with her sweet little cunt?”

A few slow circles over your clit is all it takes to pull a moan from you, making Sam’s lips curve up into a cocky smirk.

“There we go,” Sam starts, voice low and smooth. “There’s those pretty noises.”

Sam’s thumb replaces his middle finger, keeping the light pressure against your clit, knowing that it will drive you straight to an orgasm and fast. His middle and ring fingers slip inside you slowly, curling up into that sweet spot that he can do perfectly reach.

“Fuck, Sammy,” you cry, reaching up to grip at his bicep. “Right there, please…”

“Right where, princess? Here?” He punctuates the question with a firm curl of his fingers, holding the pressure for a few seconds until you begin to squirm beneath him.

“Oh god- Fuck, yes! Sammy, please!” Your breathing becomes even more labored, eyes screwing shut as you fall into overwhelming pleasure.

“Such a pretty girl,” Sam coos, smiling down at you. “I love when you whimper my name like that.”

“Keep talking, Sammy, please,” you beg him, head lulling back against the pillows.

“Keep talking?” Sam teases lightly, dropping his voice even lower. “You just love my voice, huh? Bet I could make you cum just by talking to you. What do you think, gorgeous?”

“I-“ You attempt to form a coherent sentence, but another wave of pleasure and moan stops you short. “P-probably.”

“Mmm, might have to test that out one night,” Sam hums, as if just voicing a casual thought out loud.

You feel Sam’s forehead press against yours, only serving to make you melt further into the sheets.

“Listen to me, baby doll,” Sam practically growls, although he knows he already has every bit of your attention. You force your eyes open to meet his. “You’re gonna cum right on my fingers and say my name nice and pretty when you do. Okay?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you answer him breathlessly, feeling yourself squeeze around his fingers, pulling them in even deeper. Oh, how your body reacts to him. Every. Time.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he praises, kissing down your cheek to your neck. “Let me have it, gorgeous. Please.”

It burns low in your stomach, your body’s internal scream for release. A few more pumps of his fingers and swirls of his thumb, throw you over the edge and into the raging waves of your high.

You feel it throughout your whole body, tensing and relaxing all the muscles in your body rapidly.

Your head spins as you come down, but Sam clearly isn’t ready to stop.

Your hand shoots down to wrap around his wrist, tugging at it in attempts to stop the overstimulation. “S-Sammy-“

“-Ah,” he cuts you off, pulling your hand away and flattening his hand out over your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart. “Baby doll thought I was done?”

A constant stream of whimpers huff out of you with short bursts of breath. You can feel your clit throbbing against Sam’s thumb, the overstimulation twisting into pleasure with the littlest hint of pain.

“You wanted me to talk to you all low and soft and pretty…” Sam taunts, moving with your squirming body, following every jerk. “And make you cum all over my fingers, but now you can’t take it? My little sensitive girl.”

The shudder that shakes through your body at his words, draws a low, raspy chuckle from Sam’s chest.

“Oh? Someone liked that, didn’t she?” Sam continues his relentless taunting, pulling his soaked fingers out to circle your clit.

Opening your mouth with the intention to answer him, all that manages to come out is a breathy whine. A noise so high pitched and desperate sounding, you might be the slightest bit embarrassed about it, when you think back on it later.

Sam’s lips curve up into a shit eating smirk, far too pleased at the sounds and reactions he’s pulling from you. And it’s so easy.

He leans in, mocking the airy, high pitched noise you just made, directly into your ear.

“F-fuck yo- u-oh, fuck,” you stutter, moaning and stumbling over your own words as Sam quickens the circles over your bundle of nerves. “

“Oh, fuck.” It’s parroted right back to you, his voice mimicking yours; sweet and needy.

Why the way he mocks you turns you on so much more, you aren’t exactly sure. You haven’t the brain power to ponder on it, yet, either.

That sweet and most welcomed burn reforms in the pits of your belly, just waiting for the perfect pass of Sam’s fingers to unravel and take over your whole body once again.

“I’m so close, Sammy,” you warn, gripping at the blanket beneath you with one hand and the pillow behind your head with your other. “Please, don’t stop. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop? Don’t stop what?” He knows exactly what you mean. “Don’t stop talking to you, or don’t stop pleasing this throbbing little clit?”

“Sammy…” It trots out of you through a whimper.

“Gonna make you cum one more time before I give it to you.” Sam says, as though it isn’t up for debate. And at this point, it isn’t. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Your back arches off the mattress, the pleasure finally taking over your body in a second orgasm.

“That’s right, gorgeous,” Sam practically groans. “Let it all go for me. My pretty, messy, princess. Absolutely fucking gorgeous when you cum for me like this.”

Sam’s lips are suddenly colliding with yours in a searing kiss, capturing all your little noises right in his mouth.

As soon as he feels your body start to jolt, he eases his skilled fingers from your clit, sliding them down through your wetness to bring up to his watering mouth.

“Jesus christ, you taste so fucking good.” Sam sinks your fingers in and out of his mouth, watching you watch him.

You’ve watched him do it before, but it never fails to completely wipe all coherent thoughts from your mind -no matter how many times you’ve seen him do it- to watch him be so filthy.

Dropping his hand from your mouth, he wraps it loosely around your neck, just barely squeezing as he leans down to reconnect your lips.

You can taste yourself all over his lips. It’s an addicting combination of your own release and the aftertastes of mint on his tongue. Creating a sweet, spicy, concoction out of the two of you. Fitting.

“Tell me, baby doll,” Sam calls gently for your attention. “You want me here again?” His fingers trace over your lips ever so lightly. “Or here?” His hand travels down your body, tracing over your folds with the same featherlight touch, before dipping down to gather more of your wetness and begin slowly stroking over your clit again.

Your body jolts and convulses on its own accord, making Sam laugh lowly at you and your bodies way of displaying its sensitivity.

“Awe, is it too much for you now, doll?” Sam teases, lips dragging over the center of your throat. “Has this poor little clit had enough?”

“Need you inside me.” You raise your hips, trying to press yourself against his cock, visibly straining against his sweatpants. “Fuck me, Sammy, please.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want, when you beg that pretty.” Sam removes both hands from your body, tucking them into the hem of his boxers, shoving them down his legs hastily.

Taking himself in his hand, a shaky exhale flutters out of Sam. His eyes close, hair falling around his face as he continues to lose himself with each stroke of his own hand.

At last, he pulls himself back together and guides himself through your folds, letting out a deep, breathy, groan at the feeling of how wet you are.

“F-fuck,” Sam mutters, shakily trying to line himself up with your entrance.

Your jaw falls slack, as he pushes himself into you with a smooth thrust of his hips.

“Oh, m-my god…” Your words barely stutter out loud enough for Sam to hear.

Sam brings himself down above you, using one of his forearms to hold his body just above yours. His other hand slips up to tangle into your hair, tilting your head back against the pillows.

“Move, Sammy, please move.” Your voice is pathetic, dripping in desperation and submissiveness.

“What if I make you wait?” He questions slyly, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes. “What if we stayed just like this and I just talk to you some more? Tell you how amazing you feel wrapped around my cock, until you cum all over it just from my words?”

“Sam, I swear to god…” You try to fight back, wanting nothing more than for him to just move and fuck you completely senseless.

“You clearly love the idea,” Sam points out. “And you love when I talk to you like this. I know that’s why you squirm every time I hold you close and say little things in your ear. Why do you think I’ve started doing that more often? You think I don’t notice how your breath catches when I say even the most mundane things right in your ear?”

“You’re right, I love it,” you say through a fresh wave of whimpers that are tearing through your throat and filling up the room. You’ll always soak up his praises like a plant starving for water.

“I fucking…love it…”

Sam tugs at your earlobe with his teeth. “You’re clenched so tight around me…I could cum in you right now.”

Now that…

That strikes a new nerve, causing you to arch your body into Sam’s followed by a noise reminiscent of a sob.

“Oh, fuck me…” Sam curses, fist tightening in your hair as you flutter around his already throbbing cock.

Unable to wait any longer, Sam begins to rock his hips, slowly dragging himself in and out of you. The burn of him stretching you out rips another unholy sound from your lungs - one that he accidentally mimics, but in a much deeper tone.

“My sweet baby doll, making me feel so good.” Sam picks up the speed and depth of his thrusts. “You love on my cock so well, don't you? You're always just so, so sweet to it."

Sam’s head falls against your shoulder, short huffs of uneven breaths hitting your neck and adding yet another sensation to the pile.

Your hands reach around his body, one tangling in his soft tresses, while the other claws it’s way down to the center of his back - surely leaving flaming red marks in its wake.

“Pull it,” he groans, tilting his head back ever so slightly, to ensure you know exactly want he means.

You oblige without missing a beat, tightening the hand tangled in his hair and tugging it firmly.

“Fuck, goddamn,” Sam sputters, delivering a particularly deep thrust into you, making you gasp and choke on the words you’re trying to form.

“What's that? You feeling good?” Sam fires questions at you breathlessly. Later you’ll probably wonder how he manages to stay together enough to form full, coherent sentences.

“You want to tell me about it? About how my cock is filling you up so good? How you can feel me here?" He lays his hand over your stomach, splayed out and applying the littlest bit of pressure.

You open your mouth to speak, babble some barely understandable praises and call out his name over and over again. Yet, nothing comes out. Your mouth simply hangs open, not even a hint of a sound coming forth from your lungs; they simply hold captive any air left within them as Sammy relentlessly fucks you.

“Tell me, baby, tell me how good it feels,” Sam smirks cockily, knowing full well that you can’t. “You can't even talk, huh? Am I fucking you speechless, doll face?"

“S-so close,” you gasp, both hands gripping at Sam’s shoulders now in hopes that you will stay anchored to earth.

“Are you? Tell me you’re gonna cum so pretty for me,” Sam demands, snaking his hand between your two bodies to rub hasty circles over your bundle of nerves. “Say it for me.”

It takes every part of your body to form the words for him. “I-I’m gonna cum s-so pretty for you, Sammy.”

“You want me to talk you through it? Huh?” Sam’s voice is dripping with sex, low and smooth as silk. “Yeah, I'm gonna talk you through it, baby."

A few more deep thrusts of his hips and passes of his calloused fingertips over your hyper sensitive clit, is all it takes to unravel you.

“Come on, cum for me, sweet girl. Cum for me.” Sam coaxes.

The way you clench around him, suffocating his cock, dragging him to his own high right behind you, has him sucking a long breath through his teeth before he can even speak.

“That’s it, baby doll. Fuck, there it is.” He’s hardly keeping it together above you, determined to work you through most of your orgasm before he allows himself to fall into his own. “That’s my good girl, so fucking pretty making a mess all over me. My gorgeous, messy, baby doll.”

You can hear him, faintly, as you ride out your seemingly never ending climax. And God, do you love when he calls you ‘baby doll.’

Just as you start to come down, Sam’s thrust become sloppy and sporadic, signaling that he’s reached his own high.

“Where do-“

You cut him off before he even finishes his sentence. “-Inside me. Let me have it, please, pretty boy.”

“Oh, fuck…” he draws the word out, rough and airy. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-“

His hips rock into lazily a few more times, the obscene sounds of both of your releases, bouncing off the four walls of your room.

“How the fuck does this manage to happen every night,” Sam huffs jokingly, slowly pulling out and collapsing beside you, still fighting to catch his breath.

“It might not if your voice wasn’t always dripping with sex appeal every time you open your mouth,” you jest right back.

“What?” Sam gasps, feigning shock, but fighting back a smile. “So you only fuck me for my voice? How low of you, doll.”

“You’re right,” you admit, grinning at him. “I don’t just fuck you for your voice… I also fuck you for your pretty face.”

Sam wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you into him with a pleased smile. “Mm. That’s fair enough, I do have a pretty face.”

@wildbluesorbit @jaketlove

@tripthelightfatality

@sunandthemoontwinflames

@shutupdevvie @jakesguitarsolo

@ageofbarbarians @streamsofstardust

@gvfpal @theweightofjake

@twistedmelodies @belovedsamuel

@watchingover-hypegirl

@watchingovergvff

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @losfacedevil

@starcatcher-jake @gardensgatedaisy

@i-choose-the-road

@sammykiszkamyass @sammysprincess

@ascendingtostardust @gretasmokerising

@jake-kiszkas-smirk @gretavanfanfics

@doodle417

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gretavangroupie · 3 months

Text

Exposure

Word count: 11.3k

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking. Smut: Kissing, Stripping, Photo Exhibitionism, Touching, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Oral M!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.

A/N: Oh! Didn't see you there! Happy February! Welcome to the very first installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy this first story in the set of four. We can't wait to share the rest with you! See you real soon!

You pull your jacket snug against your chest, your camera bag hanging heavy on your shoulder as you make the trek up to the front door of the house. You can hear music coming from the basement already, likely the bands warming up before the show starts. You sneak through the front door, breezing through the mostly empty house in search of the basement. Following the noise, you walk down the stairs and into a small swarm of people all bustling and busy trying to get things set up before the show. How you got roped into shooting a basement show on Valentine's day of all days is beyond you, although it’s not like you have anything better to do.

Your eyes search around for any sign of your friends but you know they’re probably either running late, which is not shocking, or busy unloading their gear outside. You typically never shoot events like this- well, this small, but a favor for your best friend was long overdue. You stand at a small table loading the film into your camera, her one begging request of her set being captured on film, about to be fulfilled. You look around for any other photographers but you see no one, and it’s then that you realize just how small of a gig this really is.

You did your best to blend in tonight, donning the industry standard of black, but realizing now that it almost wouldn’t have mattered what you wore. You kept it simple with a black long sleeve shirt, and a pair of black leather pants, adding a heeled boot to give yourself a little extra height behind the lens.

You grab an extra roll of film and shove it into your pants pocket before placing your camera bag beneath the stage for safe keeping. People are quickly starting to fill the small basement, and you’re thankful for this weeks’ cold snap, knowing that this basement would be sweltering otherwise. You pull your phone from your pocket checking for any signs of life from your friends, laughing as you see a ‘we’re running late’ text. Shaking your head you put your phone back in your pocket and start to check your settings, adjusting to the lowlight of the room.

The basement is fully packed at this point, the first band stepping on to the stage and starting things off with a blaring guitar intro. The lights dim even further, causing you to adjust your settings again, and you wonder if you need to grab your flash attachment. You feel a tap on your shoulder, a rush of nerves in your chest as you spin around to see who it could be.

“Are you shooting film?” A pair of dark brown eyes asks, a look of genuine curiosity painted across the irises.

You smile and hold up your camera, “Yeah, I am! How did you know?”

A smile sweeps across his face, his long dark hair hanging well past his shoulders, but partially obscured under a red beanie. His cheeks are flushed red, either from the cold outside, the alcohol in his system, or the weight of his cable knit sweater. “I’m a bit of a hobbyist. Specifically film. I recognized your camera.”

“You did? This thing is pretty old.” you say, pulling your hair from beneath your camera strap.

“Yeah, I have the same one. Mines the silver version though.” he says, leaning in closely so that you can hear him over the loud music.

You look up at him, and nod, leaning back in towards him as you respond. “Oh really? Does yours have the battery door issue?”

His hand lays softly against your shoulder as he leans in closer, ready to respond but your attention is ripped away as you see your friends in your peripheral.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, my friends just walked in and they are actually supposed to go on next.” you say holding up your camera to show your purpose of being here in the first place.

“You’re fine, go ahead.” he smiles, pulling away from you and taking a sip from his seltzer.

You send him a soft smile, taking a final look at him before turning to meet your friends. As you walk up to meet them you can’t help but to look over to where you were just standing, finding the mystery man gone. You scan the room as your friends talk at you, looking for any sight of him, but you’re snapped back to the present as they are called up to the stage.

With a hug from your best friend and a kiss on the cheek she darts up the small stairs with a smile. “Wish us luck! And make sure you get my good side!”

You make your way towards the front of the stage, checking your settings one more time as the band starts to play. Admittedly, they sound a lot better than they did the last time you saw them perform, and the crowd behind you really seems to be into them. You even notice a few people wearing their merch and wonder when that happened. Had you really been that absent?

You duck down as you work your way across the front of the stage, snapping photos of your friends as they play their hearts out. You quietly apologize to the people you block with your camera, taking a quick glance behind you with each step you take. About two songs into their set you’ve made your way to the opposite side of the stage, looking behind you only to catch a glance of your mystery guy, standing against the wall with his drink.

You try to pretend you didn’t see him, but it’s no use as you trip over an electrical cord and make a complete spectacle of yourself in the process. However, when you don't collide with the concrete of the basement floor and instead are met with a pair of warm steady hands, you feel a sigh of relief hoping that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t see you trip after all. Turning to face your hero, you’re met with none other than your hobbyist.

A grin spreads across his face as he helps you to stand, one hand in his, and the other firmly planted on your camera.

“Falling for me so soon? At least tell me your name first…” he jokes, letting go of you as you steady yourself on your feet.

“Y/N…And thanks, I– guess they ran out of Gaff tape and I found the only cord not taped down.” you laugh.

He smiles and shakes his head in faux disgust, “Rule number one, always carry an extra roll in your gig box for the ladies. I’m Sam, by the way.”

“Well, Sam, thank you for not letting me fall in front of all of these people.” you laugh.

“Oh, I was actually saving the camera… Precious vintage...” he winks, pursing his lips together.

“Oh, of course. Yeah.” you stammer, suddenly feeling ridiculous.

As if he can sense your distress he places a hand on your arm, “Wait no, I was kidding. Of course I was saving you. Let me– Can I get you a drink?” he asks, trying for a peace offering.

“I think I’m kinda out of hands…” you laugh, snapping a photo as you focus through the viewfinder.

“I’m not…” he counters, “Whad’ya want? I’ll grab it for you…”

You lick over your lips, deciding maybe a drink assistant wouldn’t be too bad. You turn over your shoulder as he leans close letting you talk into his ear. “A seltzer, I don’t care what flavor, surprise me.”

He gives you an understanding nod and turns on his heels, disappearing into the crowd.

You watch your friends start to close up their set and you compose another set of photos you think will be the shots of the night.

“A drink for the lady…” he says, as he holds a drink up in front of the lens. You lower your camera and spin around to grab it from him, watching him crack the lid open before he hands it to you.

“Prickly pear, huh…” you pause, taking a sip of the fizzy drink. “Did you know that was my favorite or just a lucky guess?”

“Well, I figured… you have great taste in cameras…” he trails off, taking the drink back from you so you can continue to shoot.

You feel him lean into your shoulder, his warm breath on your neck. “The red light really does nothing for photos, does it…” he laughs.

“No, and I’m half convinced that’s why they do it.” you retort.

“Oh, it definitely is. Trust me. That and it looks badass.” he laughs, stepping back again.

As the set ends you watch your friends leave the stage, ready to drink and party with the rest of you. The room quiets to a dull roar as the next band starts to take the stage, ready to set up their equipment. You lower your camera around your neck, letting it hang freely as you turn back to Sam.

“You get the shot?” he asks, sipping the same Prickly Pear Topo Chico.

“I think so, looks like I’ve got…” you pause, checking your dial. “Two left on this roll. Should probably change over before the next act. Here, smile.” you say, holding the viewfinder to your eye.

He blushes a little, holding both of the drinks in his hands and giving you wide open mouth smile.

You capture those last two images and hear the winder start to spin. “That’ll do it!” you say, dropping your camera around your neck and pulling the extra black film cartridge from your pocket.

“Oh here, let me help you. You have your drink…” he offers, holding out your can.

“No! You don’t have to do that, it’s totally fine, I’ve got it. Just need to find a table or something so I can–”

“I know I don’t have to, I just– want to. I wanna help.” he says, his eyes sweet and genuine.

You think about it for a second, and consider that you really don’t have anything to lose. He wouldn’t be offering if he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Okay, sure, I’ll hold your drink now.” you smile.

His eyes are focused as he works to remove the used film, replacing it with the new roll as quickly and efficiently as he can, making sure not to expose the roll. He clips the door shut and makes sure it's secure before placing the camera strap back over your head, pulling your hair out from beneath the straps as gently as possible.

“There. Perfect.” he says, a warm smile on his lips.

“Thanks Sam.” you answer, offering his drink back to him.

“You can call me Sammy. All my friends do.” he says, accepting the wet can.

“Oh, are we friends now?” you ask playfully, all the while thinking that you might want to be a little more than that.

“I’d like to think so. Or– I hope so. I think you’re cute, film camera girl.”

“Do you?” you murmur, holding the can to your lips.

As if feeling a little shy, he ducks his head a little and licks his lips, “I do.”

Before you can reciprocate his sentiment the third band starts, and somehow they are even louder than your friend's band previously. The drums are blaring loud and you can tell they need their mics turned down about three notches. You take a few photos, figuring you can never have too much in your portfolio, but after a few shots and the crowd becoming a little too rowdy, you quickly decide you are done ‘working’ for the night. You lower your camera down and spin to talk to Sam, but you find he’s gone.

Your eyes scan the crowd for him, but again, you see no trace of the cream colored sweater or his red beanie in the sea of people. You do, however, spot your best friend off in the corner of the room being hit on by someone you know to be exactly her type. You lock eyes with her, raising a brow and she just smiles at you as she continues to talk to the tall dark haired man.

Letting her have her time with him, you make your way back to the stage to grab your camera bag. You head up the stairs, grabbing a new drink from the bar area and again searching for any signs of him. You mingle with a few strangers, making pointless small talk about work and the latest gossip before excusing yourself to the bathroom to pee. As you wash your hands you sigh at the missed connection with such a thoughtful and good looking guy, but chalk it up to being Valentine’s Day and not wanting to fall into that stereotype.

With your new friend gone, you decide to seek out some of your old ones. With your gear bag slung over your shoulder, you head towards the thick crowd in the main living room. As you make your way through, your neck cranes around the bodies in your way, searching for a familiar face. Looking out the back window, you see your friends near their band’s van. You push open the squeaky screen door and are greeted with a harsh gust of freezing cold wind. You retract, and before you can regain your senses, you hear someone calling your name from a little ways away.

When you get your eyes open, Sam is standing against the side of the house, exhaling a puff of smoke. He’s giving you a sweet, closed lipped smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. You feel a few butterflies in your stomach as you take in his sweet face, relieved that he’s happy to see you hasn’t disappeared like you thought. You approach him with a sweet smile, holding on to your bag strap with both hands while your main camera hangs around your neck.

“It’s cold as fuck out here.” You say honestly, suppressing a grin. He nods, taking another inhale off the cigarette between his fingers, his smile making it a little difficult. “I thought you left.” you add while he exhales the smoke away from your face.

“What, without you?” He says with a quirked brow and a playful smolder. You laugh, stunned silent by his charisma. He realizes and laughs it off, reaching towards you. “You need a hand taking that stuff to your car?” He asks, dropping his cigarette onto the lawn and stepping on it. He offers you a hand and you willingly offer up your bag, even though you really don’t need to.

“I didn’t really feel the need to get any more photos of the third band. I didn’t think the headache was worth it.” You say, a little tongue in cheek as you walk. Sam laughs loudly once, like it slipped out, then shakes his head looking at the ground in front of him.

“I was trying not to be too judgmental but, yeesh. They’re really something, aren’t they?” You laugh and pop open your trunk and he sees inside as he puts your bag in.

“You have a Pentax too?” He asks, seeing the other bag you left in the trunk.

“I do. I have a couple lenses for it, I use it when I shoot… bigger stuff.” You say, not trying to sound braggy.

“That sucker is heavy though. You must be jacked if you’re holding it up for an entire show.” He jokes, reaching for your bicep and squeezing twice. You flex a little, giving him a wink before you break character and laugh with him. You pull your camera from around your neck and slip it into its case.

“No but, I uh, I have a couple lenses too. I have a pretty big collection… It’s actually getting a bit out of hand at this point. If you ever want to borrow anything...” He mentons, helping you close the trunk. When he reaches up, his sweater rides up a bit and reveals that he’s got a white shoestring laced through the loops of his pants like a belt.

“I’d love to check it out,” you say honestly, rubbing your arms to try and warm up. The wind is brutal but the conversation is worth freezing for.

“This may be a bit forward… but the weather sucks, this music sucks… We could go have a drink at my place and I could show you?” He offers, shrugging a little bit.

“Well…” you start, looking over at the van on the other side of the yard. Your friend seems to be deep in conversation with the guy who was helping her load up, so you’re sure she won’t miss you if you slip away. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.”

“Two things, though. One, we have to take your car, since my friend was my ride. Two, I’m driving, because you’ve had a few.” He says, giving you a boyish smile and holding out his hands so you can put the keys in them. You eye him with playful suspicion for a moment, but then figure you’ve got nothing to lose.

“Fine.” You flick open your car key and offer it to him between two fingers with a grin.

As he gets in, you can’t help but micromanage his actions with your car as you buckle your seatbelt. “The emergency brake is down by your left foot, and just ignore the light on the dash.”

“I guess I should have told you that I have, indeed, driven a car before. I’m qualified.” He says, starting it and adjusting the mirrors. He’s a good bit taller than you, so he cranks the rearview upwards quite a bit. You roll your eyes at his comment, letting the radio play quietly rather than anything from your phone for fear of judgment.

“There aren’t any street lights on these back roads. You should put the high beams on.” You comment, looking over at him for a moment, taking in his side profile. He cracks a wry smirk and flourishes his hand, turning them on.

“You’re kinda bossy, aren’t you?” He asks, not looking away from the road. You snicker softly.

“When I want to be.”

Before he can say anything in response, his phone starts to buzz in the center console. He reaches for it, swiping quickly across the screen to answer the call from a contact named Danny.

“Daniel!” He shouts, putting the phone on speaker. Without hesitation, you take it from him so he can use both of his hands and drive. He doesn’t object as the voice from the other end of the phone pipes up.

“Where’d you get off to?”

“Uh, I left. Are you good to get home?” Sam answers, flipping the brights off when a car drives by on the opposite side of the road. He puts them back on once the coast is clear.

“I’m fine, yeah, just checking in. Didn’t know you left. You bag that chick you were chatting with?”

You huff a laugh and look over to Sam shaking your head. Is this really how guys talk on the phone?

“Daniel, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell…” he jokes, sending you a wink.

“Right, are you going to that event tomorrow?”

“I had forgotten about it until this very second, but yeah. I said I would. Are you?” Sam says, and you pick up a bit of an accent. There’s a long A in forgotten where the second O should go. You smile softly as you watch the road and listen to them talk.

“Hell no. Neither is Jake. You’re stuck with Josh and his girl. So, have fun with that.” Daniel says, and you can hear him getting into his car on the other end of the line.

“Fuck. Alright, get home safe.” Sam says, sighing. They end the call and you’re more than tempted to ask him the meaning of all that, but he’s pulling into his driveway and the nerves start to take over, shutting you up. “Sorry about that,” he says, parking your car in his driveway next to his own.

“Do you live by yourself?” You ask, getting out of the passenger seat. The wind is still strong and it chills you to the bone. Sam sees and picks up his pace as he leads you to the front door.

“Yeah, it’s just me.” he says, looking over his shoulder as he puts his key in the door. It’s warmly lit inside his house once he steps inside and flips on the lights. There’s an array of musical instruments scattered about as soon as you enter, amps and drums and guitars either hanging on the wall or resting against each other. You raise your brows, looking over at him.

“You’re a musician, too?” You ask as he puts your keys on the cabinet near the front door. There are sliding doors across the front that are opened just slightly to reveal a substantial vinyl collection.

“I have many hobbies.”

You smile as you follow him through the house, looking around at the art covering his walls. It smells like incense and it’s warm- a little warmer than you would keep your house, but it’s cozy.

“I keep everything in here,” he starts, flipping on the lightswitch in one of the bedrooms. It’s furnished with a daybed, like a guest bedroom, but the opposite wall has a desk and shelving full of cameras, cases, lenses, accessories, attachments galore. You raise your brows, surprised, but mostly impressed.

It’s a solid half hour that you spend going item by item, gently looking over everything he’s collected, from vintage to like-new, functioning and under repair. He makes a point to tell you where he got each one, the quirks and intricacies of them all.

“That one’s really my favorite for portraits,” he says as you look over a lightweight film camera with a noisy lens, clicks filling the room. “She’s got a way about her that makes everyone look good, you know?” You nod, looking it over, peeking through the viewfinder.

“I dunno, I might be a lost cause.” You say, a little self deprecating. He sucks his teeth at you in playful disappointment.

“I just mean that, you know, as photographers, there aren’t many photos of us. I don’t think I’d know how to pose myself for a portrait.”

“Well, you don’t pose yourself, silly.” He says, looking up at you, not lifting his head and moving only his eyes. There’s a little smirk on his lips. “We should try it.”

You give him a suspicious look, laughing nervously.

“I look like a mess from the wind and… I’m hardly wearing any makeup..” You say, starting to rattle off excuses as your cheeks heat up.

“So? You look perfect. I don’t want to take… fuckin’ headshots. I want to capture you. This version of you, the pretty photographer that I’ve spent my evening with.”

The two of you lock eyes for a moment, his honeyed irises so warm and kind and sweet that you probably can’t say no to him if your life depended on it.

“Okay.”

That’s how you end up in his sunroom, sitting patiently on his couch as he gets set up, sipping a glass of wine. The room is full of plants and you brush your hand against the burnt orange velvet upholstery of his couch underneath you. You watch him move around the room, pushing the ottoman out of the way, adjusting the throw pillows on the opposite end. He reaches behind his head and pulls his thick sweater off, his shirt riding up to show that little shoestring belt and this time, a light dusting of hair above the waistband of his pants. He tosses aside the sweater, leaving him in a white t-shirt. You swallow a gulp of your wine, feeling a little warm.

“I like how you said, ‘as photographers,’ like you looped me in there with you,” he muses. “You’re a professional. I don’t belong in the ranks with you.” He says, grinning as he uses an app on his phone to mess with the lighting from the lamp in the room. It’s a hazy, warm light when he’s done, absolutely flattering to the eye, so you can only imagine how it’s going to look when he captures you.

“If you take pictures, and you enjoy it, you’re a photographer. I don’t think it’s fair to gate keep art of any kind, or… something that brings people joy, you know?” You say, watching as he grabs a cream colored, cable knit throw reminiscent of his sweater and drapes it behind you.

“That makes sense. Not all photographers are as humble as you, though.” He says, looking down at the camera and making some adjustments. He holds it up and looks at you, then he pulls it away. He looks again, then he hums like he’s thinking about something.

“This black shirt is kind of one-dimensional. I feel like it’s swallowing you up, you know? I feel like there's too much contrast with the colors in the room.”

You sip your wine and think for a moment, looking around. He’s probably right.

“What do you think about green?” you ask, leaning forward, placing the wine glass on the table in front of you.

“Do you have another– oh…” he starts, but is effectively silenced when you start to pull your shirt over your head. Underneath, you’re in a sage green longline bralette, the band of lace under your chest covering a good two inches of your waist. It’s not too revealing and from the shoulders up, it probably looks like a shirt. You shake out your hair and look up at him, tossing your shirt aside.

“Does that look better?” You ask, smirking at his reaction, pretending to be all business. He looks at you through the viewfinder and you hear him clear his throat.

“Much better. Yep. Uh huh.” he says, hiding his face behind the camera, but you know he’s looking at you. “Sit up for me?”

You adjust the way you’re sitting, sitting up straighter. He lets the camera hang around his neck as he approaches you, reaching out to gently position you. He puts your hand in your lap, then gently pushes some hair behind your shoulder. The other side, he wraps around his finger once, making sure it lays in a flattering way. He looks at you, not scrutinizing you, but deciding what he wants to do with you. His touch makes you feel like you’re on fire, his hands warm and so gentle, his motions purposeful and confident despite the delicate way he handles you.

He crouches down in front of you, holding the camera to his eye, and you feel a wave of panic wash over you. You suddenly feel exposed in front of the lens, and it must be evident on your face as he moves his finger from the shutter release and lowers the camera from his eye. “You feel nervous.” he states with the nod of his head.

You shrug ever so slightly, finally feeling the nerves your clients tend to feel. You try to shake it off, but Sam, ever perceptive, pulls the camera from around his neck and sits it next to you on the couch. He pulls his own shirt over his head, leaving him in the same state of undress as you are. “There. Even?” he asks with a cheeky smile.

You smile and nod, doing your best not to stare at the small smattering of a happy trail at the top of his pants. You bite your lips together before looking back into the lens, hearing the shutter click and the film wind. He brings his hand up to your chin, tilting your face to the side with the gentle touch of his index finger. He pulls it back quickly, returning to the shutter button and snapping another photo. He hums from his place behind the lens, standing quickly and scanning the room for something.

His heavy footfall pads across the room, snatching something from his piano bench before returning to his place on the floor in front of you. In his hands is a multicolored jewel tone pashmina, soft and worn, and clearly a staple in his wardrobe.

“Can we try this?” he asks, holding it up against your skin.

“Let me see…” you answer, grabbing it and draping it over your chest. With your torso completely covered you reach beneath it, pulling the green bralette over your head as he watches you with wide eyes. You toss it to the floor next to him, and reposition the fabric to just cover your chest as you lean back into the couch.

He swallows nervously as he stretches up towards the couch, adjusting the fabric how he sees fit. Your stomach shows beneath the edge of colorful fabric, the curve of your breast just peeking from the top.

“I– I think this is gonna be a good shot.” he says, looking at you through the lens. “Lean your head back a little more, and turn it to the side, just a touch.”

You follow his instruction, knowing the angles of this shot have to be incredible from his place on the floor.

“Perfect, I just…Didn’t want any shadows on your throat…” he whispers from behind the camera. You hear the shutter click, and a murmur of ‘fuck’ leave his lips.

You stay where you are as he lowers the camera, his breathing picking up a little bit as he tries to remain calm. “Your skin is so…pretty…” he breathes, letting his eyes sweep over you.

Your eyes connect with his, and in an act of insanity you pull away the pashmina, letting it pool at your side. His eyes can’t help but to flick down to your chest, his jaw dropping slightly before he notices and looks back up at your eyes.

“We don’t have to–”

“Do you not want to?” you ask, settling back onto the couch.

“No, I very much do.” he answers a little too quickly.

“So go ahead. Capture me.”

He takes a deep breath, holding the camera to his eye and lowering it back down. He grabs your hand and places it gingerly over your chest, letting your fingers rest just over your nipple. He brings the camera back to his eye, and takes the photo. “Fuck you’re gorgeous.”

Your cheeks blush and you hear the shutter click again.

“Sorry, but I think that's the prettiest shade of pink I’ve ever seen.” he says.

You smile and shake your head, letting your hand trail to the button of your pants. You slide the button through the loop and pull the long zipper, until just the smallest glimpse of your thong is visible.

You watch him swallow nervously again, focusing the camera on your hand as it lays across your stomach. As he captures the photo, you watch him try to recenter himself, knowing that he is probably just as turned on by this as you are, if not more.

“Take them off…” you suggest, watching his eyes flick up to yours.

“You sure?” he asks again, making sure you’re still comfortable.

“Very. If you are, I mean.”

“Lay across the couch. On your stomach.” he instructs, moving himself to sit on the edge of the chaise to your left. You position yourself against the plush couch, propping yourself up on your elbows, as you look back at him sitting behind you.

“Yeah, just like that. Stay there. Look at me, beautiful.” he says, growing more confident.

He leans forward, swiping your hair over your shoulder, giving him an unobstructed view of the curve of your back. And just as your eyes connect with the lens, he presses the button.

“Perfect.” he breathes, lowering the camera again. He stands from his place behind you, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, pulling them gently down your hips until they rest at the apex of your ass. Your thong is fully visible now, only the floral lace resting against your hips.

He moves back and you feel the couch dip as he kneels behind you, straightening the seam of the pants to rest perfectly in the center, his fingers brushing against your bare skin. You feel the goosebumps rise, and you hear the shutter, smiling as you know he’s caught the moment.

“Are you always this responsive to touch…” he asks, sliding your pants further down over your ass, pulling each leg free until the leather fabric is in a pile on the floor.

“No. Only when it’s really good…” you answer.

“Lift your hips up for me, rest on your knees a little, and arch your back.” he says, kneeling on the edge of the couch. His hand slides down your back to assist you, and slides back up, stopping at the hem of your panties. Two fingers hook into the fabric, pulling it down just slightly as you hear the camera shutter.

You can feel your arousal between your legs, not too far from where his fingers linger, but he releases your panties, sliding them back into place and letting his hand drift over the curve of your ass. He stands up in front of you, and you drop back down, stretching fully across the couch. You lay your head on your hands as you look up at him, watching him crouch down in front of you. He pulls a few pieces of hair over your shoulder, and moves your arm further up to reveal the swell of your breast as it presses against his couch cushion.

“Pop your hips up just a touch...” he breathes, holding the camera to his eye. “Look at me, baby.”

You bat your eyes as you look at him, seeing the photo in the reflection of the lens as he takes it.

His chest is heaving as he pulls the camera away, crawling towards you on his knees as he dusts his fingers over your spine. “You make an incredible muse…”

“A good photographer knows that seeing isn’t enough. You have to feel it.” you answer, melting into the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I think I feel it too much…”

He slides his hand down your arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you back to a sitting position. He reaches for your wine glass, turning back to you and placing it into your hand. You bring it to your lips, but as you tip the glass a stream of red wine trickles down the stem, dripping rapidly onto your stomach.

His eyes flick to yours, then down to the small streak of red against your skin, leaning his head forward and letting his warm tongue lap at the spilled alcohol.

Your eyes close on their own, a breath leaving your lips at the feeling of his lips on your body. He pulls back from you, waiting for your eyes to open, and as they meet you can see he’s asking for permission to continue.

You open your legs allowing him to move closer, and he takes that as his consent to move between them. He pulls the camera from around his neck, placing it gently on the couch next to you, before grabbing your wine glass and placing it on the coffee table behind him.

His hands slide up your thighs, his eyes examining every inch of your skin until he meets the edge of your panties. His eyes meet yours and you nod, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on your skin again.

He hooks his fingers through the fabric and pulls them over your hips, tossing them to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He takes in a deep breath, lowering his face to your heat, but never breaking the eye contact he has with you. You let a hand slide through his silky waves, silently telling him you wanted this, and he obliges, pressing a kiss to your groin.

You feel his tongue swipe up through your center, long and slow, hot and soft against you. You fist his hair at the contact, a hum leaving his lips as they vibrate against your clit. Your legs open wider, allowing him to hook his arms beneath your legs, pulling you down the couch to meet his mouth. His tongue works at your clit, flicking back and forth as wet sounds fill the air in the room. His cheeks are flushed as his wet lips suction around you, his brown eyes fluttering closed with every pointed lick.

You can hardly tear your gaze away from him, your chest heaving as he brings you closer and closer to your release. Your hand reaches out to grip into the cushion, instead landing on the body of the camera next to you. It feels cold against your hand, and as you look at him you realize you might feel it a little too much, too.

Grasping it in your hand you pull the viewfinder to your eye, positioning him in the frame as he continues to work you towards your orgasm. As his eyes flick up to you, he's met with the camera lens, hesitating momentarily before pulling an elastic from his wrist. He doesn’t cease his actions as he pulls his hair into a messy bun, resting low on the back of his neck. He places his soft hands on the insides of your thighs, looking up into the lens with his blissed out eyes, ready for you to capture the scene below you.

Hearing the shutter, he grips into you harder, sucking your clit into his mouth with more force, desperate to get you there. His fingers brush your entrance, and with a carefully timed swipe of his tongue he presses them forward until his thumb replaces his tongue applying pressure to your clit. His fingers work inside of you until your legs start to shake with desperation. He replaces his thumb with his lips once more, the warm, wet sensation inching you closer and closer.

You take a few more shots, hoping to capture the way his dark lashes kiss his cheeks, and the way his nose brushes against you so delicately. Knowing the most vulnerable shots are usually the best.

He ruts his hips into the couch, desperate for some relief and the groan that leaves his chest is all it takes to push you to the edge. You drop the camera to your side, pulling his face to your body as your orgasm rocks through you. A pathetic sounding whine leaves your lips as his mouth slows, he pulls his fingers from you as gently as possible.

You’re left a panting mess as you ride the waves of your high, but as you open your eyes and see him licking his fingers, you reach for the camera once more, capturing the act forever on film.

He stands, offering you his hand with a smirk. You can’t help but to notice that his fingers are still pruny and soft as you place your hand in his, letting him pull your shaky body from his couch. He bends over and snatches the camera from the couch cushion before pulling you down the hallway towards his bedroom.

As you step over the threshold into his bedroom, you’re met with the dark walls and rich earth toned bedding. He drops your hand, and checks his film, before setting the camera on the edge of his bed. He grabs your hand again, and pulls you into him, snaking his other hand around your waist and pulling you close to his body. His eyes search yours before his lips crash to yours, a heady mix of cigarettes, red wine, and you.

Your tongue tangles with his as his hands grip into your hips, his hardness pressing against your bare stomach. You pull away, locking your eyes on his as you fall to your knees in front of him. You slide your hands up his thighs until you reach the thin white shoelace at his waist, pulling the tip until it unknots itself and slides to the floor. You feel him reach for the camera, letting it hang around his neck once more as he watches you.

You unbutton his pants, feeling the brush of his length against your hand. You work quickly to pull the pants and boxers to the floor, letting him step out of them as you take in the sight of him bare in front of you. You lean forward to kiss at the smattering of hair at his happy trail but you’re quickly stopped before your lips ever make it there.

He grabs your chin in his hand, placing his thumb over your swollen pink lips, pulling the plump flesh down to expose your bottom teeth as the camera snaps the image above you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can think of nothing but the feeling of your mouth around him.

Unable to wait any longer you grab him in your fist, stroking him a few times back and forth as his eyes study your movements. You wet your lips in preparation for him, letting your tongue dart out to lick a hot stripe up the underside of his cock.

He pulls the camera to his eye again, “Stay like that. Just like that baby. Look up at me.”

He rests the tip of his cock in your open mouth, snapping a few shots as he leaks onto your tongue, before tossing the camera to the bed. “Fuck, are you sure you’ve never done this before? You look so fucking gorgeous.”

You smile around him, closing your lips and humming in response. You let your tongue slide up his length, taking him as far back as you can the first few times before working into a steady rhythm. Your eyes are locked on his, a look of awe and desperation written into his features.

His hand finds grip in your hair, moving with you as you work him, gentle whines falling from his lips as you swirl over his tip with each upward stroke.

Swallowing around him he sucks in a harsh breath, letting you slide back up before repeating the action. You tense around him as you gag, your eyes blinking away tears wanting to continue. Your eyes roll back as you taste the saltiness on your tongue knowing he is nearing his release.

He pulls away from you, cupping your face in his big warm hands, his thumbs swiping away errant tears.

“I– You’re– Get on the bed for me, sweetness. Wanna ruin that pretty cunt before I cum.”

You look up at him, swallowing thickly, a little shocked by the side of himself he just showed you. You take his hand with a grin as he offers it to you, standing and hopping up onto his bed, laying yourself back on his pillows. He follows you, leaning over to reach for the camera on the nightstand before doing so. He leaves it on the pillow next to your head, focusing all of his attention on you for the time being.

He’s tender for a moment, leaning down to kiss you briefly before he situates himself between your thighs. He kneels above you, looking down at the sight before him. He traces a gentle line down your sternum, then back up, dragging lightly against the expanse of your clavicle, then back down once more. His eyes seem to roam over every inch of you while you wait patiently for things to advance.

“You…” he starts, a breathy laugh leaving his throat, like he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. “So gorgeous.”

“You’re sweet.” you respond, parting your thighs a bit more for him. He hasn’t stopped his feather light touches just yet though.

“Is that how you like it?” he asks, catching you a little off guard. Your eyes flick up to his and you can’t help the way you squirm a little at his directness.

“I…” you start, but he promptly silences you with a pinch to your nipple, pulling a wanton moan from the depths of your chest.

“Ahh. There she is.” He says, smiling. He lets go and leans down to give it a kiss. “Just trying to get a read on you.”

He palms your breast as he pushes back up, unable to take his eyes off of you. You watch the wheels turning in his head as he squeezes firmly, his eyes cutting to the camera next to your head.

He picks it back up, adjusting it with lightning speed. He looks through the viewfinder once before reaching for your tit again, your nipple slipping between his long fingers. He snaps a photo, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth in concentration while the aperture adjusts, the settings on auto now to save time.

“That artistic part of your brain just doesn’t turn off, huh?” you ask, reaching up to run a hand down his stomach, your patience running out.

“Blessing and a curse.” he mumbles, reaching forward into his nightstand. As he’s leaning over you, you can’t help but take a moment to place a few wet, searing kisses to his jaw and throat. You know they’re appreciated when he bucks his hips against you, his dick dragging against the inside of your thigh.

He sits back up, tearing the foil of the condom with little difficulty and flipping it over once or twice to check which way is right. He eventually distinguishes top from bottom and starts to slide it on, looking down in concentration.

After he’s done, he leans down towards you, placing hungry, wet kisses wherever he can find purchase. He reaches between your bodies, taking himself in his palm and brushing the head of his cock through your folds.

“Wait…” you say, and he rests his head on your chest for a moment, looking up at you with patient eyes.

“Yes, sweetness?” he says, pulling back, unsure if you’re about to call the whole thing off. You take a deep breath, reaching down to touch him gently.

“Can we take this off?” You murmur, your hand waiting to pull it off the moment he gives you the green light.

“God, yeah,” he says enthusiastically, a little chuckle leaving him as you haphazardly pull the condom off of him and toss it by the wayside. “Absolutely. Fuck. I want to…” He trails off, like he’s about to say something else, but once you slip the tip of him inside of you, he can’t get a word out.

He pushes in about halfway, stopping to settle and watch your reaction. You gaze up at him, reaching up to play with one of your nipples. He takes in a sharp breath at the sight before pulling out a little before he pushes all the way in, slowly.

“Oh… oh my god,” you manage to get out, unable to help the way the words scratch their way out of your throat. Sam’s eyes are glued to your center, watching himself enter you.

“Everything about you…” he says, taking a trembling breath, “...is fucking picture perfect.”

You smile at the compliment and watch his face for a moment, the way his dark lashes move quickly with his blinking eyes trying to process everything at once. He starts to move slowly, the drag of him making your breath hitch.

He fucks into you slowly, deeply, your head swimming at the sensation. It’s good, but it’s not quite enough, and you can’t help but speak up.

“Sammy…” you begin, calling him by his nickname, like he asked, affectionately. “Harder. Please.”

He snaps his hips into you in response, giving you a dirty smirk from above.

“You’re a backseat driver in the sack, too?” he quips, moving back on his heels a little to change the angle and give himself more range of motion.

“Shut up and fuck me. How’s that?” you bite, grinning up at him. Before you can even prepare yourself, he snatches your wrists, pinning them above your head in just one of his big hands, your slender wrists slotted between his lengthy fingers.

He looks like he’s about to snap back at you, but then his eyes narrow a little. He reaches for the camera again, holding it against the side of his body to flip the switch and open the aperture. He lifts it to his eye and snaps a picture of his hand pinning your wrists together, the strap of the camera falling a little bit into the frame.

Once he’s done, he drops the camera again and braces himself with his free hand, picking up an almost brutal pace. You can’t complain, because it’s what you asked for, and god did he deliver. The sound of skin on skin, his body meeting yours, rhythmically bounces off the walls of his bedroom. You cry out at the feeling of him, reeling at the sensation of him so deep inside you. Warmth starts to build in your stomach, your head getting dizzy.

“Are you getting close?” he asks in your ear, slightly breathless. You whine in the affirmative, spreading your legs further as if you need him even deeper. He lets go of your hands, sitting up a little straighter but still thrusting into you hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. Your eyes start to flutter closed, your back arching, and you feel his hips stutter slightly as he moves a bit on top of you.

There’s some clicking and you know what he’s about to do, but you can’t be bothered to change a single thing about what you’re doing. You reach for your chest, holding your tits steady as he pushes you towards the edge, waiting for the moment.

“Gonna cum…” you warn, your brows knitting together.

“Come on, beautiful. I’m ready.” he coos as it hits you, your lips parting, your head tilting back as you gasp for breath. You don’t register when the shutter sounds, but you feel the camera hit the pillow again and Sam’s got both of his hands on your waist, so you know he must have gotten the shot.

He slows his pace, allowing you to catch your breath and come back down to earth. His hand slides up to your throat, running his thumb over your lips in the same manner he did earlier, but this time instead of letting him tug at your lip you suck his thumb into your mouth.

“Fuck…” he curses under his breath, pulling his hand back and slowly pulling out of you. “Turn over for me.”

You blink up at him, a little bashful, your eyes darting to the camera, then back to his. You try to suppress a grin and give him a little shake of your head.

“Do you trust me?”

Feeling a little giddy, you roll over, pulling your hair over your shoulder before propping yourself up on your knees. You keep your face in his pillow, your eyes watching the camera laying near you as he presses inside you, the position allowing him somehow deeper.

His hands find your hips and as he starts to move, the grip tightens, pulling little hiss from between your teeth. You’re glad he doesn’t hear because you’d hate it if he stopped.

“Gotta be careful…” he mumbles, his voice strained. “Feels a little too good.”

You hum, a little laugh leaving you. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met, and definitely different from anyone you’ve ever slept with. His playfulness mixed with the dominance that peeks out on occasion is a potent combination you can’t seem to get enough of.

He uses his grip on your hips to pull you back into him, his pace slower, but the feeling of him nudging at your cervix with every stroke makes up for the change in speed. He rubs a hand over the curve of your ass as he slows down and releases his grip.

“Goddamn, that’s beautiful.”

The camera disappears and you push up on your forearms, suddenly shy and nervous and feeling like a shot of that isn’t quite as artistic as the rest of your photos. You look at him over your shoulder, a little suspicious.

“No, no no. Your back, your hair on the pillow,” he reassures you, a warm hand on your back. You giggle a little, laying back down. He splays your hair across the pillow, then taps your arm. “Move this up under you.” You do as he says, one arm and hand under you, the other hand above you, fisted in the sheets. His hand drags slowly up your back before he speaks again. “Arch a little more. Like you were before. Yeah, perfect.”

Click.

It lands on the bed, then he starts to move again. He groans, a bit louder than he has been, and you know he’s hanging on by a thread.

“Are you… Are you on birth control?” He asks, his voice slightly boyish in this moment. You can’t help but laugh softly.

“What, you don’t want to knock me up on Valentine’s day?” you joke, and he freezes. You wonder if you said the wrong thing for a moment, but then he speaks softly.

“I’m confident you won’t like my answer, sweetness.”

It takes you a moment to understand what he means, and when you do, you can’t stop the words that fall from your lips.

“Try me.”

He pushes himself deeper into you, so much so he leans over and braces himself on his palm next to your face. He’s closer now when he speaks, his breath hot on your shoulder.

“I’d love nothing more than to knock you up on Valentine’s day.”

Holy shit.

“So no plans in November, then?” you quip, grinning as the weight of him pushes you into his pillow.

“Mm, nothing too big, just a world tour.” he responds, thrusting a few more times. “Super flexible.” he grits out. You can’t help but giggle at his sarcasm, feeling him start to twitch inside you.

“The answer is yes, by the way. About the birth control.”

“....It’d be cooler if you weren’t, but alright.” he jokes, his voice straining as his hips start to falter. You can hear him breathing through clenched teeth as his grip on you tightens. You tighten around him, arching your back just a touch more and as you drop your head between your arms, you see his hand frantically reaching for the camera one last time.

You can feel the tension in your stomach tightening, his hand sliding up to your shoulder to pull you back to meet him. “There you go, baby. Keep squeezing just like that. I’m right there.” he says, and you can tell by the lilt in his voice he is waiting for you.

You rock back, your bodies slamming together with a lewd smack, the sound itself just enough to tip you over the edge. You feel the rush wash over you as he pulls you in, wrapping his arm around your waist as his hips continue to move. He lets out a small grunt with each forceful spurt inside you, and you feel a wave of euphoria sweep over you as you realize he wasn’t joking after all.

“Fuck…” he whines, pulling out of you. You can hear him adjusting the lens of the camera and you’re so caught up in your own bliss you couldn’t care less that he is documenting his work. You feel him rest his hand on your ass, palming your cheek to the side for a better view as he leaks down the inside of your thigh.

The camera clicks, and just as you start to lower yourself down, you feel his fingers swipe up through the warmth dripping down your leg, stopping you in your tracks. You turn over your shoulder to look at him, his eyes completely fixed on you as he slides his cum covered fingers inside of you.

“Just for good measure, huh beautiful?”

You hear the shutter click a few times, a few indiscernible mumbles of praise from his lips, and finally the thud of the camera as it lands next to you on the sheets. He pulls his fingers from you, tapping your ass softly as an indication that you’re good to relax.

The mattress shifts as Sam gets out of bed, his footsteps heading towards the bathroom. The light shines for a moment accompanied by the sound of running water as you wait patiently. He’s back soon after with a warm, wet washcloth, and he gently parts your thighs to start cleaning the mess he made.

It’s quiet as he tends to you, his breathing slowing down as he does. Once he’s done, he slips into bed behind you, pulling your back to his chest.

“So… what are you gonna do with those pictures?” you ask, the smile on your face audible as you speak.

“Well, get them developed, I guess. But aside from myself and the poor person at the film lab, nobody will ever see them. Cross my heart.”

“And me,” you remind him.

“Yes, yes. And you, sweetness.” Silence hangs over the two of you for a moment before he speaks again.

“Will you stay?” he asks, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. You wrap your arms overtop of his where he’s holding you tight, nodding.

“I don’t think you could force me out of this bed.”

–

You’re woken by the warmth of sunshine on your face. Blinking and trying to remember where you are, you refamiliarize yourself with Sam’s bedroom in the daylight. Your eyes clear and focus on the camera sitting on the nightstand.

Sam is in a deep sleep, snoring softly with his mouth open, a few strands of his hair stuck to his face. You can’t help but smile at the sight before slipping out of bed and quietly sneaking through his house to collect your clothes strewn about.

You peek into his bedroom once you’ve gathered all of your belongings and he’s still out cold, only his feet poking out from beneath the sheets. Your eyes are pulled to the camera again, and then an idea forms. You tiptoe inside and carefully grab it, doing your best to remain quiet.

Needing darkness, you head for the bathroom and wind the film. You duck into his other bedroom on the way and grab an empty film canister. Hoping it’s quiet enough to not wake him, you close the bathroom door behind you and wait a moment before taking the roll out and putting it in the black container.

Once you’re done, you retrieve your keys from the cabinet by the door and grab an old receipt he must have just pulled out of his pockets when he was putting his keys in their usual spot. There’s a pencil on the music stand of the nearby piano, so you snatch it and leave him a little note. You write out your phone number, draw a little heart, and put the camera over the corner so you know he’ll find it. You silently sneak out the door and lock it from the inside behind you.

The drive back to your home proved to be shorter than anticipated, the light of day giving you a better sense of your location. You glanced over to the rolls of film laying in your passenger seat, taking mental stock on how many bottles of developer and Blix you had sitting on your shelf. It was times like these you were grateful for your little makeshift film lab, knowing that Sam said he would probably send these rolls off somewhere, and that some poor guy would have to see every lewd act appear right before his eyes.

You snatched the rolls from your seat and grabbed your camera bags from your trunk before making your way inside to your warm house. Feeling grimey, you ran yourself through a quick shower, eager to see what was waiting for you on these rolls of film.

Stepping into your lab you place the film rolls on the table, grabbing your Patterson canister, your chemicals, and your scissors to start the process. You trim the leads on the film rolls, smiling as you see your roll next to Sam’s. With the leads trimmed, you flip the light switch in your completely blacked out guest room, leaving you in total darkness as you pry the bottoms off of the rolls of film.

You load the long slippery strips of film into the plastic spools, screwing the lid back onto your canister before flipping your lights back on. You grab your chemicals and make your way to the kitchen, running the faucet to heat the water bath. It’s been a while since you’d done this yourself, but the process was ingrained into your memory, and you were careful to not miss a single step. You drop your bottles of Developer and Blix into the water bath, grabbing your thermometer from your junk drawer.

Your phone buzzes on the counter as you wait for the temperature to rise, your heart pounding as you see a new number flash across the screen. You make your way back to your lab, grabbing the canister off the table as your chemicals reach temperature. You carefully pour the developer into the canister, agitating it every few seconds while you read the message on your phone.

Unknown:

9:12am: Off so soon? And with my film? Should have known I’d never see those beauties. 😏

Your timer goes off letting you know it’s time to move on to the next step, so you set your phone down, ready to pour the developer out of the canister. Satisfied with yourself for not making a mess, you pour in the Blix, leaning away from the fumes as they waft through the air. You do your duty, agitating the chemical as directed, waiting the allotted time until it's ready to pour out.

You debate answering him right away, trying to leave just a touch of mystery in the air. You decide that you’ll wait until the film is done, teasing him with a photo for his eyes only.

You rinse your film with water to rid it of the chemicals, knowing there’s only a few more steps until you can see just how talented of a photographer Sam really is. You pour in your stabilizer, letting it sit for a minute, biting your lips together as you suppress the urge to text him back immediately.

With a deep breath you pour out the stabilizer, and unscrew the lid, ready to see if the evidence of your night came out in the wash. With shaky hands you pull the film strips from the spools, seeing 36 clear images appearing on the transparent roll of sepia film. A huff of laughter leaves your chest, seeing the negative image of your body in the tiny rectangles.

You suck your teeth as you hang the rolls of film to dry, knowing that in about an hour or so they will be ready to scan into your computer.

—

It seems like it’s taking longer than usual for the film to dry, at least it feels that way as you check for the hundredth time. An hour and some change later you’re dashing back to your computer with the film, scanning it into Lightroom to start inverting the images.

Your breath is stolen straight from your lungs as you see the first image. Your cheeks flame red at the sight of yourself, spread below Sam. You continue to click through the negatives, completely shocked at how good his composition is. You knew he was a hobbyist, but you start to wonder if maybe he missed his calling. You swallow harshly as you continue to look through them, but then you realize just how beautiful the photos actually are. You almost feel bad that you stole them away from him.

You work through each image, inverting the colors until they appear as they really are. You note the vintage look on the film and check the empty roll for the date. You smile as you read ‘86, knowing he shelled out a good amount of cash for that roll, and he decided to use it on you. The film comes out warm and grainy from the low light, but you feel that it adds to the photos, and you can’t think of a better turnout.

Your eyes catch on one photo, and after inverting the colors your suspicion is answered. The long finger shaped outlines on your hips were forever cemented in time. The memory of his grip burned into your mind. His body is connected to yours, and you can almost remember the feeling of him inside you as you look at the photo. You feel a rush wash over you, and you grab your phone tapping a few buttons on the screen until the camera opens. You bring it to the screen and snap the photo before attaching it to a text.

You

10:47am: *Attachment*

10:47am: I had something… pressing…to tend to. 😉

You snicker at your comment, hoping he will get the joke as you add his contact to your phone. You bite your bottom lip in concentration as you continue to work on the images, fixing the coloring and resizing them to the appropriate proportions.

As you reach the beginning of his roll, you start to see images of daily life, with people you don’t know, but are clearly happy to be having their photo taken by Sam. Bright smiles and warm moments captured by his keen eye.

Sammy

10:53am: Wow, um…

You

10:54am: I think they turned out pretty good, what do you think?

10:54am: *Attachment*

You attach another image of yourself draped across his couch, his pashmina spread across your body, the light hitting your throat exactly how he planned.

Sammy

10:55am: You’re so gorgeous, I don’t even know what else to say if I’m honest. I have to see the rest.

10:56am: Do you…Need help? I normally send my film off to be developed but it would be cool to watch.

As you click to the next image you sit in shock, trying to place the face next to Sam’s on his couch. You drop your phone to the table in front of you, trying to focus. You’re going positively crazy running through faces in your mind until it hits you. You take in the features and realize the man sitting next to Sam is the guy your friend was flirting with all night. Your heart starts to race as you make the connection. Is that the friend he left last night? Did she go home with him?

You blow out a deep breath and finish up the last photo of Sam and another long haired man, drinking foamy beers in what looks to be a foreign country. You smile at the bubbly mustaches on their lips and grab your phone to reply to his message.

You

11:02am: You’re a really great photographer, Sam. These shots are really, really good. All of them.

11:03am: If you really want to see the process you’re more than welcome to, kind of makes you feel like a mad scientist haha. I don’t have much going on at the moment, probably going to work on this next roll if you want to join.

Sammy

11:05am: What are you up to tonight? I have a work event I have to go to, but I’ll probably dip out early, especially if I have a good reason. 😉

You

11:06am: I have to shoot a show tonight, but I’m free after that…

Sammy

11:06am: So…

You

11:07am: Bring your film and a bottle of red. I just might have a few rolls we can use while we wait. 😏

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builtbykittie · 27 days

Text

Dirty secrets

S.f.k x f!reader

summary: a movie night with your best friend takes a drastic turn after walking in on his insufferable roommate.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, enemies to lovers-ish, SMUT, mentions of masturbation, fingering, slapping, overstimulation, oral(m & f rec), unprotected sex (you know better), sam is kind of an asshole, multiple orgasms

A/N: once again not edited because I'm lazy... Sorry for any mistakes!! Enjoy!

"Heyy beautiful!" Danny smiles, holding the front door open with a wide grin.

"Hi Daniel," you grin, holding out your arms for a hug. You have to admit, you're excited to finally get to spend time with him at his place. You've purposefully avoided going to Danny's house ever since he and Sam moved in together, so most of the time you'd be at bars or parties.

Sam had gone through a breakup not very long ago, he didn't want to stay at his house and moved out. At first, it was just until he got over her and found a new place, but he gets over girls questionably quick and it doesn't seem that he's moving out any time soon. At least not until he moves on to the next girl.

The second you saw that Sam's car was missing from the driveway, you sat up in your seat. You hoped that Sam might've taken off once Danny told him you'd be over. The thought of him being so petty that he leaves makes you giggle, until you remember you'd do the exact same. Is it childish? Absolutely. But maybe you're allowed to be not so mature for once.

But your hopes are crushed as Danny leads you into the house.

"I know you and Sam... aren't the greatest friends," he pauses "but he's at the store getting food. He'll be back sometime soon." You stop in your tracks, all color draining from your face. "What?" is all you can get out.

After a moment, you finally collect your words. "Danny I thought it was gonna be just us?" You try your best to seem calm and act mature, but the red tint covering your entire body tells otherwise. "Y/N, I'm sorry. If I had told you any sooner you wouldn't have come," Danny says, further fueling the fire that is your temper.

He can tell you're about to say something and stops you. "Sam was supposed to be out but after I told him what was going on he got defensive and insisted on staying here," Danny shrugs, looking defeated. You can tell they got in a little argument over this and you decide not to go too hard on him, even though he failed to tell you you'd be hanging out with your sworn enemy. The man at the core of all your arguments.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought it was gonna be just us. I wish it was," he offers you a smile, but it doesn't help. It makes no sense. Why would Sam of all people want to stick around? To torment you? To show you that this is also his house and he's allowed to be around? He does help Danny pay, after all.

It takes about half an hour of scrolling through streaming sites and saying no to every suggestion to finally decide on a movie. Sam still hasn't returned.

The two of you sit around for another thirty minutes waiting for his return, but it doesn't come. Maybe he really did take off. "Let's just start the movie," Danny finally suggests, you didn't want to say it in case he'd take it as you being upset over Sam, which you are.

You grab a blanket, bringing your feet to your side and cuddling up to his arm. The movie starts, and about ten minutes pass until Sam is finally walking through the door. The second you see him you roll your eyes, already blocking out whatever dumb excuse he has for his tardiness.

But he doesn't say anything, just walking over to the opposite side of the room from you and dropping the bag of food on the coffee table. "Jesus, took you long enough," Danny pauses the movie. "We started the movie, hope you don't mind.

"I do, actually," Sam says as a matter of fact. You try your best not to just get up and walk out. Or scoff at him. Or let your emotions get the best of you. Danny just looks at you, silently asking if it's okay to rewind. "I don't care. It's only ten minutes," you say rather bitterly, deciding to avoid as much conflict as possible.

Oh, but that stupid face of Sam's drives you crazy. He's got a smug smile playing on his lips, looking right at you. Heaven only knows how badly you want to get up and slap him right in his dumb, pretty little face.

Something about Sam is he thinks that because he's attractive that he can be an asshole. Because he's attractive, life is 10x easier. Getting a girlfriend is incredibly easy, everyone is nice to him, and he always gets his way.

He never really did anything to you, besides being an asshole. You just hated his pretty privilege, attitude, and presence. Something about him just being around puts you in a bad mood. Drove you crazy. The sight of him. The smell of his cologne. The sound of his voice.

And maybe you were attracted to him. Maybe that's what made you hate him the most.

You tried to ignore him. To enjoy the movie, but you just couldn't. Sam's presence is all too distracting. Danny attempts to break the tension by commenting on the movie but that fails miserably, perhaps even making it worse at points.

Finally, Sam gets up and storms off to his room, his cheeks bright pink. "Jesus Christ," Danny sighs, stretching his arms out. You'd be a lot happier if he hadn't left at the last couple of minutes.

"Hey, Danny can I stay here tonight? It's pretty late and I don't wanna drive home half asleep," you yawn, sitting up and stretching. "Yeah, I just gotta be somewhere in the morning so," he sits up slightly "you done with the movie?"

You feel bad because the entire movie you sat there annoyed and in a bad mood, but it was long and you're tired "Yeah." You stand up, folding the blanket you used "Should I just stay here on the couch or...?"

"Oh, no. There's that guest room by Sam's. If you go down that hall it's the one right across from his. Got its own bathroom, remember?" he yawns, turning the television off, followed by the lamps surrounding you.

"Okay I'm going to bed," he mumbles, placing a hand on your head and ruffling up your hair. "Goodnight, Danny," you place a quick friendly peck on his cheek and pad to the kitchen. You're practically dying of thirst, grabbing a glass from his cupboard and filling it with cold water.

You sit there silently on his counter and sip your water, listening to the faint rustle coming from Danny's room as he gets ready to go to sleep. Slipping off the counter, you gently discard the glass and find the hall that hosts the guest room. You were positive you knew which room it was, but now that you're standing at the entrance of the dark hallway, you have no idea which one it is.

There are three rooms. One on the right side, one on the left, and one at the end of the hall. It occurs to you that you have no idea which room is Sam's. You listen for any sign of life in the rooms, listening to which side it may be coming from. Very faintly, you hear a soft groan, but you can't decide which room it may have come from.

You hear it again, this time you're sure it was from the right, so you head for the left. Just to be sure, you stop and listen again, but you hear nothing, so you turn the knob and open the door.

Instead of finding an empty room with a cold bed, you find shirtless Sam sitting lazily in a sofa chair. His head is thrown back, hair clung to his neck, lips parted, and cheeks bright pink. It takes you a moment to process what you're seeing, even then you can't seem to look away. His hand swirls around his impossibly hard, angry cock as he mouths something you can't quite understand.

His head snaps over to you, movements slowing down but not stopping. It feels as if you're in a daze, your eyes fixated on his sweaty body and your mouth slightly open. "Get the fuck out," he blurts, his voice rough as if he'd been choking it back.

You practically run out, pulling the door but not fully closing it. You stop in the kitchen, trying to process what just happened. Trying to calm yourself down, you grab the same glass from earlier and pour yourself more water, cupping some in your hands and splashing your face with it.

You throw back the drink, chugging the cold liquid and giving yourself a brain freeze. For a while, you stand there fidgeting with the cold glass and staring at nothing. All you can think about is the way he looked, all red and sweaty. Your mind wanders to his cock, the way his hand glided along the incredible length.

You're startled out of your daze once you hear the sound of footsteps in the kitchen. You spin around to find Sam, still shirtless but with boxers on that fail to hide his bulge.

He angrily stares at you for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest. "Sam I- I'm sorry I didn't kn-" you start to stammer, but he cuts you off. "Don't fucking tell anyone, Y/N," he takes a step closer to you. You frantically nod your head, finding yourself motionless against the island as Sam slowly moves closer and closer to you. "Say it. Tell me you won't tell anyone," Sam's voice slightly raises, but still quiet enough to not wake Daniel.

"I- I won't tell anyone, I promise," you practically whine, cowering away from him. "How do I know you won't use that big fucking mouth of yours, hm?" Now his face is only inches from yours and although you're trying your best to avoid his face, he forces you to look at him.

For a moment, you both stand there, silently staring at each other. Your entire body is flushed, the tension is palpable, and the silence is loud.

One of his large hands finds the waistband of your shorts and dips past it, your breaths growing heavier as the rough tips of his fingers begin to trace your hip bone. "Sam.." you mutter, grabbing his wrist, but he slaps you away.

A throbbing sensation pounds at your core, a feeling you know all too well. You hate it. You hate it so much you just wanna slap him. You've fallen into his trap.

But at the same time, you need him. You need him so bad it's embarrassing.

His hand reaches your panties, and you can't help but grab onto the counter behind you, looking down at where his hand is in your shorts. "Look at me," he says roughly, the hand not teasing at your panties coming up to grab your chin, forcing you to make eye contact.

A soft, whiney breath escapes your open mouth once his two middle fingers press against your needy clit. "Yeah, bitchy girl likes that, doesn't she?" Slowly, his fingers begin to massage your clit through your panties, looking into your eyes.

You can't nod, you can't let him know he's right. But even without flat-out telling him yes, he still knows. He can tell by the way your hips buck against his hand, the way you softly moan, and the way your mouth falls open at the smallest movement.

"Doesn't she?" His voice comes out rough, startling you. His finger hooks under the side of your panties. "If you say no, I'll let you go to bed," he slowly moves the fabric to the side. He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear "if you say yes, I'll give you what you want. Spoil you. Give you something you don't deserve."

His voice sends a shiver up your spine, freezing you in place. He slots his fingers between your folds, just barely brushing against your clit, eliciting an embarrassing whine. He has his answer. He knows. He just wants to hear it.

"Sam," you start with the intention to protest, but quickly realize it's no good once he circles your entrance with his middle finger. "Oh fuck," you struggle to keep your voice a whisper.

It takes you a moment to collect your words and put them into a proper sentence. "Yes," you start, but the tip of his finger just slightly slipping into your entrance interrupts you. It doesn't take long for you to realize that you're not gonna be able to get that sentence out, watching as a smirk grows on his stupid face and his eyes become unbelievably dark.

"Good girl," Sam purrs into your ear, leaning even closer and taking the shell of it between his teeth. That alone could make you whine, so when he shoves his two middle fingers into you, a cry flies past your lips.

His brows furrow and the hand not toying with you clamps over your mouth. His fingers curl harshly up into you before he slides the digits out of you and brings them up to his lips. That pounding at your core grows even worse as you watch him take the fingers into his mouth, licking up your juices and releasing them from his mouth with a pop.

The hand over your mouth moves to be prying your jaw open, shoving his fingers into your mouth. He closes your mouth around the digits, forcing you to taste the mix of your juices and his saliva and you start to gag on his fingers as he shoves them further and further into your mouth.

By the time he finally takes them out of your mouth, you're practically gasping for air, the tips of his fingers keep your tongue sticking out of your mouth. To your surprise, he leans in, his mouth incredibly close to yours for a moment before he sticks his tongue out and licks yours.

You suck in a loud gasp at the action, and you hate yourself for how much you enjoyed it. He hums, dropping his hands to the small of your back, licking along your jawline and sucking a the soft flesh into his mouth. "S- Sam," you whine, trying to push him away but to no avail.

"Don't do that," you push again, your brows knitting together. The last thing you want is to wake up with ugly purple splotches covering your neck. He simply huffs a laugh and you feel him smile against your skin before he takes the flesh between his teeth.

He lifts that same hand up back to your mouth and once again practically shoves his fingers down your throat. You let out a cry of surprise, your eyes growing comically large as you realize how loud it was.

Before you can even blink, Sam takes his fingers out of your mouth, raising his hand up and letting it come down against your cheek. You try to stifle the yelp that threatens to spill past your lips, but you're not very successful. The stinging sensation that follows hurts so good.

His wet fingers squeeze your cheeks and he leans in, his face mere centimeters from yours. "Y/N, you make one more noise, and I'm taping your mouth shut. Got it?" His dark, lust blown eyes stare so intensely into yours that you just want to curl up into a ball and shrink in size.

He lets go of your cheeks and you frantically nod your head. A smirk grows on his lips at your response, his hand slowly making it's way down your torso till it reaches the waistband of your shorts. He uses his thumb to pull the band, creating an opening for his fingers to meet your core.

His other hand comes back up to your mouth, and you whine against his palm at the pressure. Thank God for his hand, because the whimper that slips past your lips once his fingers reach your core could've easily woken anybody near. He's staring into your eyes, but his gaze narrows and his brows furrow in annoyance at every single squeak you fail to hide.

He spreads your arousal around your folds, bringing it up to your clit and drawing small circles over the needy bud. Your hand flies to his wrist, digging your nails into the soft flesh as his fingers speed up against your clit. Every time your eyes wander off or your eyelids start to flutter shut, he forces you to keep your eyes on him.

So many emotions rush through you. Anger. Annoyance. Lust. Frustration. Desire. He's driving you crazy, and he loves it. Every single whine you let out, every time you squeeze him, every time your knees threaten to buckle, puts a smile on his stupid smug face.

He hates you. You hate him. For some sick reason it intensifies your desire for him more than words could ever explain. And he'd be a complete and utter liar if he said he didn't feel the same.

You hate it so much you could cry, but at the same time you can't get enough. You couldn't be able to walk away if you wanted to. He's too alluring. His body is like a magnet.

Your eyes roll back into your head, involuntarily bucking your hips against his hand. Sam lets out a low chuckle at your reaction and presses against your clit. "Yeah, that's right. Feel my fingers. They feel good, huh little slut?" He comes down to your neck, biting the flesh as his fingers speed up against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You frantically nod your head, grinding against his fingers. Those skilled hands of his work deliciously over your poor sensitive clit and your whines against his hand grow louder. You don't know how much longer you can go before you're sent hurdling over the edge.

A pressure builds right below your belly button and its getting harder and harder to keep your voice down. Even muffled by his hand you're still embarrassingly loud. Your knees buckle and your thighs tremble, his fingers show no mercy for your bundle of nerves as he hums against your neck.

It's just his fingers, but they're so skilled. So incredibly experienced. You throw your head back, mumbling profanities against his hand, ultimately coming out inaudible. As your pleasure intensifies, so does his pace. So does his pressure against the sweet sensitive bud.

"Yeah that's it, cum for me doll," his fingers move from your clit and effortlessly slide into your entrance, flicking against a soft spot. His hand around your mouth forces your head up to look at him. Your eyes widen and you let out an incredibly loud whimper against his hand as that band of pleasure snaps.

"Such a good little whore," he comes down to whisper against your neck, and you feel his shoulders bounce. He's giggling. His fingers don't slow down, and his thumb starts to play with your clit.

You violently shake your head against his hand, your eyes wide as you fight against him. Despite your efforts, he doesn't stop. In fact, he speeds up. Your eyes prick with tears and you watch as he sinks to his knees in front of you.

The hand that was covering your mouth slowly slides down your body, stopping at your navel "take your shirt off." Your brows knit together and your eyes flick to the direction of Daniel's room, but you do as he says. Slowly, you lift the hem of your shirt, hooking your fingers under your bra as you go. Sam's eyes study every second. Every inch of your torso. He watches carefully as you lift the thin fabric over your head and it drops to the floor.

His hand is still toying with your cunt, the other starting to slowly pull down your shorts and panties. As your clothes go lower down your body, so do his kisses. His lips start at your belly button, then slowly move down till they're right at your slit.

Now you're completely exposed. Daniel could walk in at any second and see you and Sam like this. For some reason, the thought goes straight to your cunt, turning you on even more.

His breath is warm against your heat, fueling the fire inside of you. Suddenly, a yelp slips out of your mouth once his tongue finds your clit. His dark eyes angrily flick up to yours and you clamp your own hand over your mouth.

His tongue dances so delicately around your folds, tasting you as if you're the sweetest honey he's ever had. Your entire body shudders, the feeling of his sweet tongue over your overstimulated clit sends shocks of electricity through your body.

His fingers move in sync with his tongue, his other hand squeezing your thigh. Your thighs are trembling and shaking at an immense speed, your knees threatening to completely give out. You're already there. His fingers curl up into a sweet spot that makes your eyes roll. You've gotten over the overstimulation, now you're falling over the edge.

You let out a cry against your hand as your orgasm clouds your head for the second time in a row. Sam withdrawals his fingers from you just in time, because suddenly your legs give out from underneath you and you're collapsing in his lap.

He lets you sit there for just long enough to find your composure before he's forcing you both up. Once he's on his feet, he grabs your hair in a bundle and pulls you up to meet him.

A surprised whimper falls past your lips once he spins you around so that your back is flush to his chest. One arm wraps around your body at your bust, the other holds your ass firm against his body. "Feel that?" His low voice sends a shiver up your spine as he whispers into your ear. "Feel my cock against your pretty little ass?" He presses harder against you.

"This little problem," he growls "do you have any idea how annoying it is?" He wiggles his hips against you, and you feel that pounding return to your core. "Now you're gonna help me fix it. You're gonna take every inch of my cock like the little slut you are."

You don't try to hide the soft, breathy moan that falls past your lips at his words. Your entire body becomes flushed a deep red color, so intense to the point that it starts to give you a headache. Without warning, he's sweeping you off your feet and carrying you off to his room, your clothes still on the kitchen floor.

Everything happens in mere seconds. He's practically running to his room, sending the door flying open and throwing you on the bed. He eagerly climbs on top of you, marveling at your naked body. He leaves a trace of kisses down torso, sucking the skin of your hip into his mouth.

He gets up, frantically closing and locking the door. He turns back to you, sliding his boxers down his legs, his cock springing free. He tossed the fabric off from around his feet and takes himself in his hand. The sight drives you mad. His long, hard cock in his large hand. Just so eager to feel you. Begging for pleasure. You can see every vein, even from where you are. He's so turned on it's unbelievable.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the flesh at the sight of him. His brows are furrowed as he stares at you, his large hand starting to slowly pump his length. It takes everything in you to not give in and touch yourself, the pounding at your core has become so incredibly unbearable just the slightest touch would break you.

Silently, he walks to you, his angry pink tip dripping with precum. "Sit up," he demands, still stroking himself at such a slow pace that it makes you wince. You do just as he says, not even bothering to think about how desperate you probably look.

Sam slowly crawls onto the bed, moving up so that his knees are on each side of your thighs and you're face to face with his cock. He doesn't even give a warning or anything before he grabs your hair in a bundle and forces your mouth onto him. You're just lucky he didn't force his entire length down your throat.

You quickly adjust to his thickness and start to glide your tongue along his cock, his hand guiding you. Sam lets out a breathy noise and his grip on your hair tightens once you start to speed up. "Fuck- that's it, Y/N," he mutters, feeling your mouth as you suck harder around his cock.

His hips start to buck forward, making his cock tickle the very back of your throat. You take him as far into your mouth as you possibly can, your eyes filling with tears at every thrust of his hips. You pull back, wrapping your hand around his cock, squeezing him tight as you start to lap at his slit. His head falls back and strings of profanities escape his plump pink lips, you know he won't last much longer like this.

The hand around his cock starts to stroke along his length, not once loosening your grip as you tease his angry tip. "Oh fuck-" he blurts, his voice rough and his hips jutting forward at the sensation. His hands tug harshly at your hair, and you use it as encouragement, every pull of your hair you reward, sucking harder or stroking faster.

It's almost humorous how fast you drive him to the edge, every profanity in the dictionary is flying past his lips and he's bringing you to tears with how hard he's pulling your hair. Suddenly, he forces your hand off of him and grasps the back of your head, practically shoving his cock down your throat. He thrusts once, and that's all it takes for his hot release to spurt into the back of your throat.

For a few moments, he keeps you there, forcing you to swallow every last drop of him. "Shit-" he speaks, out of breath. "Where'd you learn that?" He removes himself from you, but he doesn't give you enough time to answer before he's forcing you around onto your stomach. His calloused fingertips grab at the supple flesh at the back of your thighs, forcing your legs open.

A loud, surprised moan escapes your lips as his fingers just barely touch your cunt. He collects your arousal on his fingertips, spreading it around your core. "Jesus Christ," he groans "you're so fucking wet." The pillows stifle the moans and whimpers that you make at the slight touch.

"So fucking horny," His fingers start to massage your clit, but before you can even begin to enjoy it, he moves his hand to slap your ass, eliciting a loud yelp. "So needy. Wouldn't wanna have to make you beg for it, would I?" he comes down, and you gasp as he starts to place open mouth kisses to your ass, his tongue lapping at the red skin.

"Please, Sam," you practically cry into the sheets, clawing the fabric. He simply just snickers at your plead, continuing to kiss everywhere but the area you need him to touch the most.

"Sam," you whine, but he's just ignoring you. "Sam Kiszka I swear to fucking god," you say harshly, moving your head so that he can hear you clearly. You feel him huff a laugh against your inner thigh, "fine. If you want it so bad." You let out a sigh, a little squeak following it once his tongue reaches your core.

He circles your entrance with his tongue, the very tip of it prodding you. He repeats this until you're a sweaty mess, your hair clung to your neck, your thighs shaking from trying to create any sort of friction, and your hands grasping onto the sheets for dear life. You can't form a sentence, every word you try to speak just comes out as a squeaky whimper and you can tell he's enjoying this 10x more than you.

You let out a squeaky sigh once he pulls back, and he brings his cock to your entrance. He slides his tip through your core, groaning as he feels the wetness of your folds around him. Pathetic moans roll off your tongue and you try to clamp your thighs around his lower body, but he slaps the back of your thigh and pries your legs apart.

A loud, whiney cry rips through your chest as he sinks into you, and the sting of his cock stretching you out without warning robs you of any self respect you had left. "Oh- fuck," Sam groans, bottoming out inside you and staying there for a moment. You claw at the sheets, a yelp escaping your mouth once he starts to mercilessly thrust into you.

One deep and intoxicating thrust, then another, then another until he's worked up the perfect pace that drives you mad. "Oh Sam- fuck," you cry, arching your back into the bed. "Shit, Y/N," Sam mutters, having to practically rip your hands off the sheets to hold them behind your back.

You cry his name at a particularly sharp thrust, and curse yourself for how much you're enjoying it. He feels too good, you hate it. You hate the fact that you're just like every other girl he's hooked up with. But most of all, you hate the fact that you denied him for so long. Forced down those dirty thoughts that would surface in your mind about him. "Yeah, feels good doesn't it, little slut?" He punctuates his words with sharp movements.

You fail at trying to form a sentence. Every time you open your mouth, a pathetic moan falls past your swollen red lips. You hear him snicker behind you, and the hand not firmly holding your hands behind your back moves to your ass. He grabs at the supple flesh, kneading it in his hands as he fucks his anger out on you.

"yes," you cry out "so fucking good, Sam." You know Daniel can absolutely hear, but you're past the point of caring. "I've seen the way you look at me. You try to act like you don't touch yourself thinking of me but really, you're just as bad as the rest of them. Just dying to let me use you like the little whore you know you are." Sam starts to go even deeper, as if that was even possible, his tip is practically brushing against your cervix. And oh how he's so right.

"holy fucking-" you're on the verge of screaming, tears pricking your waterline once again. "God, who would've known you're so filthy?" You hear the grin in his voice, and his hand grasps your ass so hard you're sure you'll wake up to bruises. "I mean, really. Letting me use you like this. Cumming all over my hands in the kitchen," He breathes, and you can tell he's struggling to keep a steady voice and form coherent sentences of his own.

"You know, Daniel could've walked in at any time. Saw you acting like the little fucking whore you are for me," he sends a sharp thrust into you, hitting a part of you that you didn't even know someone could reach. "But I bet that just turned you on even more, huh? The thought of being so exposed in there just made you cum so hard, didn't it?" With every single word comes a rough movement of his hips, and you can't see him, but you know theres a stupid smirk playing on his face.

"Sam I- I'm gonna," you whine, clawing at his wrist. "Yeah? Little slut gonna cum?" He snickers, his pace slowing down, his thrusts becoming slower as he sinks completely into to, hitting every sweet spot known to woman kind. "Yes. Yes yes," you bite the sheets, your nails still digging into his wrists.

Your cries and moans grow unbelievably loud, intensifying with each movement. "That's it, baby, cum for me," Sam grabs your hips, lifting them up off the bed so that your ass is in the air. With one final thrust, you're coming undone. Completely unraveling beneath him. "Fuck fuck fuck," you moan, burning white flames of pleasure dancing viciously around your tummy.

Sam almost immediately pulls out, your juices dripping down your sweaty thigh. He drops your hips and you fall back down on the bed, softly moaning and whimpering as you come down from the high.

A surprised whimper slips past your lips once he grabs you by your waist and flips you around "don't think for a second that I'm done with you." He grabs you by your waist, picking you up and throwing you against the arm rest of the sofa chair you walked in on him in.

It's as if you regained consciousness because right before you hit the furniture, you brace your arms against the other side of the sofa, catching yourself. "Sam what are you-" you start, but he cuts you off. "I'm gonna make you cum as many times as I want, sweetheart," he grabs his cock, pumping slowly a few times.

"Sam I don't know if I can.." you whine, but this just makes him snicker. He ignores you, and you yelp once he thrusts into you. He doesn't wait. Doesn't give you a moment, he just starts fucking into you. He sets an intoxicating pace almost immediately, you're completely drunk off of his cock.

You repeat his name over and over like a mantra, your moans growing louder and louder with each thrust. His cock rams into you, and Sam's making sure he's going as deep into you as he possibly can. "Shit. You're so fucking-" Sam groans, but he doesn't finish his sentence. He bends over, his chin resting against your bare back and he takes the sweaty flesh between his teeth.

You claw the fabric of the sofa, the lewd sounds of your skin snapping together and your sexes mixing fill the humid air, not to mention the volume of which you're screaming his name. "So fucking dirty," he speaks breathlessly between thrusts "taking my cock like such a good girl."

He stands up again, and your forehead practically slams against the furniture. "Oh fuck me-" you cry, pushing yourself back onto his cock with shaky legs. "But you're so fucking far from that. You're the filthiest little bitch I've ever been with," he roughly thrusts into you after every single word, it's unbelievable how much stamina this man has.

"At least I know how to shut you up now," His hand wraps around your body till it finds your dripping cunt, and elicits a loud yelp once his fingers start to dance over your swollen, oversensitive cit.

"Y'know, I oughta spank you," he groans "dirty little slut." Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the feeling of his skilled fingers working your clit mixed with his cock burying itself deep into your cunt over and over drives you right to the edge. If its even possible, the roaring fire in your tummy intensifies even more.

That same fire burns at the coil of pleasure pulled tightly until it snaps in two, white electricity flowing through your limbs. Despite the fact that every inch of you is trembling and you're overstimulated to the point of tears, you still clamp around his cock, determined to beat him.

"The fuck are you doing?" He slaps your ass and pulls out in one quick motion. Your body goes limp and suddenly, you lose your train of thought. Your words fail you "I- I..." Sam stops you, grabbing you by your torso and flipping you around. "I'll cum when i decide it's time," he speaks lowly, taking your lips in a sloppy, humid kiss before dropping you into the seat.

He hasn't given you any time to cool off, he's already staring down at you with those eyes and stroking his length. "Sam I-" you stutter "Sam I don't know if I can. do another one." You knew you weren't getting out of this one, but the amused look on his face pisses you off.

"It's not that I don't want it I just-" you say rather bitterly, cutting yourself off once you become conscious of the fact that you're almost completely out of breath. "Don't worry, darling. I'll be more gentle this time," he smirks.

You take a deep breath and nod, bringing your legs up to rest on each side of the sofa. His eyes widen at your glistening core, but soon relax as a grin starts to grow on his face. He leans down, breathing heavily on your neck and taking your earlobe in between your teeth. "I still hate your fucking guts," he growls, sending a shiver up your spine.

You let out a breath at the words and reach down to grab his cock, and you start to swirl your hand around his hard length. He nips at your ear again before slapping your hand away, grabbing his cock and dragging it through your soaked folds.

Your head falls back and you grab his arm as his tip starts to tease your clit. "Sam.. please," you whine, arching your back off the arch. He moves himself to like up with your entrance, his tip just barely sinking in. Just that alone elicits whiney moans from you, so when he sinks fully into you a loud cry flies past your lips.

He almost pulls completely out before thrusting back into you, the sensation making your eyes roll back into your head. "This slutty little pussy feels so.." Sam breathes, setting the perfect rhythm. Your hands slowly snake up his body, the tips of your fingers reaching his collarbones, then moving up to the base of his neck.

His deep, slow thrusts are addictive and perfect, but you quickly realize they aren't gonna cut it. You crave more. You need more. Gentle Sam can wait for another time. "Sam... Harder."

Your hands gently wrap around his neck, squeezing slightly as his pace starts to pick up. So much for being gentle. Sam's fingers find your clit, ever so slightly putting pressure on the sensitive bud. "Look at you. Asking for more after complaining about having to fuck me again," Sam purrs, rolling his hips up into you.

"Oh fuck- right there Sam," you mewl. Every inch of your body is trembling and within minutes you're riding the edge of euphoria. "How does it feel, baby?" Sam finds a particularly sensitive spot that elicits the loudest moans and babies it, and his hand that's toying with your clit speeds up. "So fucking good," you whine, your back fully arched off the sofa.

Your moans and cries and mewls grow louder, you're not gonna last much longer. Sam's free hand presses down on your lower tummy, intensifying your pleasure. "Is my little slut close? You gonna cum, baby?" His narrow eyes staring deeply into yours.

"Fuck Sam im-" a guttural moan ripping through your chest cuts you off, and suddenly your vision blurs, your mind fogs, and burning hot white flames of pleasure flow through your limbs. "Oh shit- fuck," Sam grunts, and within seconds his hot release is spurting inside you. Warm ropes of ivory release paint your insides, the feeling making you roll your eyes back into your skull.

His thrusts and fingers slow down but don't stop, helping both you and him ride out the high. Your hands release his neck and drop to your side, the two of you stay just how you are for a while, the sounds of your heavy breathing and occasional whimpers filling the humid air.

"You know. I'm not the little slut you think I am," you roll your eyes. "Well, you certainly fuck like one. I mean, look at you," he looks down at you, and you hate to admit it but you do look filthy. Your legs are as far open as they can go and his cock is covered in your release as he slowly pulls out, juices dripping down your ass.

Your cheeks go a bright shade of red and you look down at the area "Whatever." His fingers collect the release, bringing it up to your mouth and once again forcing you to taste both yourself and him. You moan against his fingers at the taste, a smirk growing on his lips.

His fingers leave your mouth with a pop before he licks up your saliva and the rest of the juices. Sam walks off and you hear his feet pad across the kitchen, coming back with your clothes. He drops them on the floor, walking right past you to the bathroom.

He stops, realizing you're not following him "You wanna clean up or what? C'mon."

#greta van fleet #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet imagine #greta van smut #gvf smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka smut #sam gvf #sam kiszka #sfk

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builtbybrokenbells · 5 months

Text

CAPITAL VICES | GLUTTONY

Gluttony: excessive and ongoing indulgence

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), sweet sweet morning sex, cockwarming if you squint, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), dom/sub, bratty sub, begging, praise, overstimulation, sir kink, name calling, very brief mentions of free use kink, degradation, scratching?, lots of banter/flirting, mentions of addiction/substance use, touch of jealousy, mentions of death/dying, mentions of drinking, swearing, embarrassment, some fluff, sorry if i miss any!

hi, i couldn’t help myself 🤭 you guys are so so awesome and i hope you like this as much as the first chapter! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

The morning came harshly and much too quickly for your liking. The sun rays were demanding your wakefulness as they wrapped around the dark curtains hung over the window. When your eyes cracked open for the first time, you were so comfortable and content that you almost believed you were nestled in your own bed. Then, the first hint of the familiar cologne reached your nose, sending a wave of anxiety through you. Dread settled deep in your stomach, heavy like lead and large enough that it left no room for anything else. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, looking around the unfamiliar room as you recollected the memories from the night before.

In a flash of imminent evocation, you looked down at your legs covered by the blanket, but you were no longer immersed in the comfort of a (seemingly very expensive) mattress. Instead, you were sat atop a foreign countertop with a strangers head between your thighs, feeling the most intense pleasure you had ever experienced. You blinked hard, shaking the thought from your head as you made a quick return to reality. There was no stranger between your legs, but you were cozy underneath said strangers blankets, and your head was laying comfortably in a mountain of his pillows. You shifted, making a move to sit up, but had to stop for a moment to satiate the dull ache in your hips. Another memory of being bent over the kitchen table flashed in your mind, and this one prompted a sudden sensation deep in the pit of your stomach.

You did not wake up feeling ashamed like you predicted you would. Instead, you felt lighter than you did before you met Jake at the bar, more free and with less stress holding you down. You weren’t sure if he solved all of your regular worldly troubles with sex alone, but he definitely made a dent in them. Before your drunken escapades the night prior, sex was a distant memory in your mind. You did not turn to celibacy, nor were you abstaining for the purpose of morality, but rather just because you had no desire or time to chase after a man who was not interested in anything other than pleasing himself. When Jake whispered his sweet words in your ear, laced with the promise of enjoyment and simplicity, you could not turn it down even if you wanted to. You were desperate for a release but did not want any of the complications that came along with it, and right now, the only complication you could see was that you were stranded at his apartment without a car.

Well, that, and the fact you did not know where your new-found friend had disappeared to.

The space in bed beside you was empty, only a slight divot in the mattress and pillows strewn messily near the headboard remained to remind you that someone had indeed slept next to you and it was not just a fallacy of your overactive imagination. You strained to listen, wondering if he was just busying himself in another room until you woke up. After a few moments, you could hear some light rustling coming from the kitchen. You leaned closer to the door, turning your head to try and catch a glimpse of what he was doing. Almost as soon as you did, you heard footsteps nearing the bedroom. You shot back to your original position, hoping that he did not catch sight of you watching him. It seemed like you were in the clear, because once he fully emerged around the corner, his eyes were only focused on two steaming mugs of coffee held tightly in his hand.

“Good morning, sunshine.” He chuckled, setting one down on his nightstand before carefully handing one to you. He was standing shirtless, clad only in a pair of grey sweatpants, and he was just as beautiful as you remembered. If you dared to admit, almost even more so now that you knew him so intimately. You would be lying if you said you were not mesmerized by the sight. Words seemed impossible, and all you could do was stare while your mind caught up with the rest of the world.

“Morning.” You eventually mumbled, peering into the mug. “What’s this?”

“A million dollars.” He rolled his eyes. “What do you think it is?”

“I know what it is Jake,” you argued back, surprised at how quickly he was able to pinch the wrong nerve. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s coffee, because it’s ten in the morning and I thought I’d do something nice for you.” He said, sliding into bed next to you. “Besides, figured you might have a headache, and I thought it might help. I didn’t realize it would be such a big deal.”

“This isn’t very no strings attached,” you warned, but took a sip of the coffee anyway. “I said no breakfast or anything like it.”

“Good thing it’s not breakfast, then.” He fought back another eye roll, finding your concern very misplaced. “Friends can make each other coffee too, you know.” He paused, looking over at you with curiosity. “Do you even know how to have friends? Because I’m beginning to think you don’t.” He raised an eyebrow, his jab playful but it still stung.

“Remember when I said I wasn’t sure I wanted to be your friend?” You reminded, sitting the mug on the table on your side of the bed. “Still trying to figure that one out.”

“So cruel angel, and for what?” There was a smile on his lips, knowing that your banter was not because of his character, but rather because of your unwillingness to show a shred of weakness. You were a strong personality, and you hated the fact that he wanted to know you. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out, and it did not bother him at all, mostly because he knew how to work around it. He’d done it once, and he was certain he could do it again.

“Hardly think I’m being cruel, Jacob.” You leaned back, resting against the headboard. “Just being honest.”

“Your honesty is cruelty.” He laughed, recalling your blunt insults that had been piling up since the night before. “Can’t even pretend to like me for the sake of my feelings?”

“I must like you a little bit, because I’m still here. I could have ran away in the middle of the night, but I toughed it out. That has to count for something.”

“I think you like me more than just a little bit.” He theorized, his eyes studying your expression as he spoke. “You were quite a fan last night.” Your cheeks dusted red at his words, realizing that he had been thinking of the sinful experience just as much as you were. Then again, it was groundbreaking sex, and it was impossible not to think about it. “You want to go home?” He asked, breaking you from the thought.

“I thought that was the deal? You take me home in the morning, we promise to keep in touch, then we forget about it before we go to bed tonight… the whole thing is pretty cookie cutter. I don’t want to make myself feel special.” You explained, cocking your head to the side in curiosity as you noticed a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. He didn’t say it, but he did think you were special. In fear of scaring you away, he opted to keep that to himself.

“I did say I would take you home today, but I never said when.” He corrected, a smirk pulling at his lips. “And don’t think I’m in any hurry to forget about you, sweetheart.” Under the blanket, his cool hand landed on your thigh, the touch gentle but impactful. It stole the air from your lungs, and the desire in his features went in for the kill. He barely touched you, and in truth, barely said anything worthwhile, but the familiar ache between your legs had already started to make a return. He was committed to breaking your psyche, and he was doing the job well. It was impossible not to melt under his touch, and resisting him was not an option. He was charming, handsome and confident. He could convince you to fall to his feet without even opening his mouth.

“Sneaky.” You breathed, trying to focus on anything other than his fingers dancing dangerously close to his favourite part of you. “What if I say no? Maybe I want to go home now.”

“Are you really going to say no, or are you just trying to piss me off?” He questioned, inching closer to you.

“I’d never do anything like that.” You lied, a smile forming on your lips and immediately selling you out.

“No, never.” He played into you, the same smile growing on his lips. In one swift motion, he pulled the blanket away from your legs. The cool air took you by surprise, sending a shiver down your spine. Your first instinct was to grab the blankets and pull them back over the exposed skin, but you knew better. Whatever he was intending to do would be much more enjoyable than the simple comfort of warmth. “Cold?” He crooned, faking his concern only partially.

“Mhm.” You nodded, looking over his face. You were in awe of his beauty, unbelieving that someone could be so perfect. Even if a relationship was out of the question, you could not deny his physical advantage over any other boy you had ever met. However, he did seem to push all of the wrong buttons and his personality irked you more every time he spoke, but for some strange reason, it was unbelievably compelling, too. Perhaps the buttons he liked to press were exactly right, and you just did not want to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. Deep down, even if you found him annoying, you felt you were lucky to be annoyed by him at all. Jake seemed like the type of person everyone wanted in their life, even if you hated him by times.

Hate is a strong word, and it was far from the correct description of how you felt about him; he only bothered you so much because you wanted him around, and you had never felt that way about anyone until he walked into your life. You liked him, but you hated the fact that you did. Instead of submitting to the feeling, you covered it up with a cold exterior in hopes it would scare him away.

Once again, the battle between your unwillingness to give in and his unwillingness to give up seemed to take precedence over anything else.

“Poor baby.” He sympathized, moving towards you and settling between your legs. “I think I know how to warm you up.”

“Yeah?” You asked, completely distracted from your earlier argument. No matter how much you wanted to resist, you couldn’t seem to find the strength to do so. You reached down, cupping his cheek in your palm as you dusted your thumb over the soft skin. His eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, happy that you seemed much more receptive of his advances. He was fearful that if anything, you would be the one to wake up and regret your decisions. Even sober, he still found you as enchanting as he did when he first laid eyes on you, and he knew that from the minute he brought you into his life, him feeling any type of regret would be completely implausible. “What’s that?”

“Thought you said you wanted to go home?” He raised an eyebrow, letting his fingers trail up your thigh. The light tickle was barely noticeable, but it was still enough to drive you to insanity. Everything he did was all the same, whether the touch was minimal or incredibly apparent, no matter if it was something sweet or dirty coming from his lips, or even if he was staring or just sneaking glances. No matter what Jake was doing, it was hard to ignore, and it was the only thing you wanted to pay attention to.

“I might have been lying.” You shrugged, enthralled in the playful expression on his face.

“Did nobody ever teach you that lying is bad, sweetheart?” He said, his fingers finally anchoring on your hips, right under the hem of his t-shirt that was just a little too big for you.

“Did you ever think that maybe I just don’t care?” You offered, posing the idea as if it were blasphemous.

“Such a bad girl.” He let out a disapproving tsk, shaking his head at you. “You don’t want to go home, do you angel?” You could not find it within you to lie to him, and if you did, he would see straight through you anyway. Besides, even if you did want to go home when you woke, there was no way you could leave him now. Whatever he had done to you the night before, you weren’t sure. What you did know was that the wicked spells he had cast and the sinful curse of his companionship was tying you down right to his bed, the chains not even loose enough give a vague impression of freedom.

You were no longer a girl he had met at the bar, wooed by his pretty smile and captivating eyes. You weren’t just a subject that fell victim to his sweet words, nor the euphoric nature of his touch. You were a woman who was in desperate search of salvation, yet unsure if you would ever find it. You were praying to be released, but he was the altar in which you prayed to. There was no escape, no surrender nor even certain death could save you from his hands. It would be a pleasant death, one that cushioned you as you descended, but you would be subservient to him until the bitter end. He held the power, and you were subordinate to him. You knew that even long after you left the realm of mortality, you would still search for him in the darkness, and well into the next life.

After all, the devil knows no mercy, and you had invited him in and welcomed him with open arms. You sealed your fate the first time you allowed his lips to touch yours, your soul fleeing you and becoming his for the taking. You could continue in hopes of salvation, but you knew that nothing could save you from the damage that was already done. It was only the first day of your lifelong sentence, and part of you had already come to terms with the inevitable; there was nobody in the entire would that could ever compare to Jake.

“No, sir.” You shook your head, giving him a long look with innocent eyes. The sight seemed to drive him crazy, thrilled that you had remembered the rules so well.

“That’s what I thought,” he smiled, using his hand on your hip to pull you down towards him. Your head landed gently on the pillows and your stomach twisted with anticipation. He instantly picked up on your shallow breathing, knowing that you were all but vibrating with excitement. “What’s wrong?” He hummed as his fingers pushed the t-shirt to your stomach, revealing the lack of clothing on your lower half.

“Nothing.” You promised, and it was the truth. There was nothing bothering you except for his slow pace. Even then, you knew with how generous he was the night before, he had to make you suffer at least a little bit. The evil that lived within him thrived off your impatience, and it only made him draw out his teasing even more.

“Right,” he spoke softly as his eyes settled on your stomach. “You’d let me do anything I wanted to you and you wouldn’t say a word.” He speculated, lowering his lips to your stomach, dusting a kiss over your navel. “I bet you’d like it, too.” He let his lips drift downward ever so slightly, making your breath hitch in your throat. You watched him in awe, completely enchanted by his ego that was taking up so much space in the room. Even if you thought it was self-centred for him to say such a thing, he was correct, and it was hot. “Wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, your skin crawling with excitement.

“Maybe that should be our deal, then.” He said, eyes flickering down to your cunt, barely able to contain his own eagerness. “I get to use you for whatever I want, whenever I want, and you get to be happy with what you get.” Even if the idea of being completely at his disposal was incredibly enticing, you could help but feel a sinking feeling in your stomach when you thought of not having any control. You could commit to giving him most of the power, but you couldn’t give it all to him. If you did that, you would be going against every single one of your morals, and you’d already given up enough on his behalf.

“That doesn’t sound very fun.” You protested.

“I think it would be plenty of fun.” He argued, his mouth now dangerously close to your heat. “Maybe I can change your mind about it later.” He smiled, flickering his eyes up towards your face. He noticed the look of doubt in your eyes, but it did not seem to deter him. “What? A man can dream, can he not?”

“Mhm, keep dreaming all you want, Jacob.” You smiled, reaching down to brush the hair from his eyes.

“Oh, I will.” He promised. There was no doubt that sex with you would infiltrate every single thought that crossed his mind. You took post in every one of his dreams the night prior, and would for every one to come next. You had him wrapped around your finger, even if he would never admit it, and he had you hooked on him just the same. “You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t like it,” he muttered, moving further down and pressing a few light kisses to the inside of your thigh. “You know I’d always be good to you. I told you I’d take care of her, didn’t I?”

“You did.” You nodded, unable to argue his words. He had proven beyond your expectations that he was indeed in the game to please you, and you had no fear he would do his duty flawlessly. With a small smile on his lips, he felt as though he was finished with taunting and he finally lowered his mouth to your cunt. A gasp fell from your lips as his tongue ran through you, slow but still fantastic. You could tell that despite his love for teasing, he had been waiting for this since long before you woke up. “Oh, god.” You groaned, feeling his tongue circle your clit.

You were sore, still sensitive from the night before, but you were so addicted to his touch that it did not matter. You knew that even if his intent was to inflict pain, you would still find yourself crawling back to him just to feel his hands on you. Violence appeared ethereal as long as it was him who caused it, and to know violence at his hands was more tempting than pleasure from another.

He was living in the sound of your shallow breaths and thriving off the noises that slipped from your mouth. He was enamoured with the way your hand went in search of the hair on his head, and how your fingers twisted the strands tightly around themselves. Every now and then, your thighs would squeeze against his skull, drawing him in and locking him there for the rest of time. If he could, he would live with his head between your legs for the rest of his life, fed from the sweet sounds you made and comforted by the warmth of your touch. He had only known such pleasure for a short time, but he was certain that nothing else in his lifetime would ever equate.

He savoured the sweetness of your arousal, knowing that it was only so intoxicating because he was the cause of it. Knowing that he could drive such a beautiful woman to such weakness made him weak. He liked to believe that he was just as cold hearted and stony as you were. Love was never something that touched him, nor anything he’d ever craved. Company was low on his list of priorities, much like your own, especially when it was in regards to romance. To him, sex was enjoyable, but connection was not. What he could not deny was the pull he felt when you were around, the force stronger than the gravity holding him to earth.

Intrigue and fascination could not even begin to describe the way he felt about you, and he was in awe of the strength in which he was attracted to you. Your witty comebacks and sharp tongue would make a lesser man cower, but it only seemed to draw him in further. Normally, when he brought girls back to his apartment, he struggled with the never ending mediocrity. It all seemed the same to him, and in the morning, he could not get them home fast enough. When he woke to you next to him in bed, he dreaded the thought of you walking away, partially because he feared you would never return.

For a man desperate to avoid attachment, he was aching at the idea of you showing him disinterest. Your refusal to acknowledge his attempts to know you only seemed to fuel him further. The usual game of cat and mouse he played was too easy, and much too predictable. The challenge you were giving him was so much different than what he was used to that he could not seem to turn it down. He was determined to make you fall for his charm, and in turn, he was making himself fall for you. Neither of you wanted a relationship, but after only a single night, you could not possibly comprehend being without each other.

He removed his tongue from you, unable to resist the urge to watch your face contort into an expression of pleasure. He brought his hand to you instead, placing his thumb on your clit in replace of his mouth and adding his fingers to you. In the darkness of his kitchen when he last had the opportunity to serve you, he did not get the chance to admire you in the way he hoped. He made sure to closely study the way your eyebrows knitted together when his thumb applied pressure, and especially the way your lips parted when his fingers curled inside of you. The way your hair framed your rosy cheeks was irresistible, and his name imbedded on your tongue was the most heavenly sound he ever had the honour of hearing.

“Cum for me, angel?” He whispered, his tone gravelly and laced with desire. His eyes flickered to your free hand, clasping the sheet in a firm embrace. Then, his gaze moved to your chest that was rising and falling with your laboured breathing, his shirt splayed across your skin perfecting the sight before him. “Come on, baby.” He encouraged, a glimmer of hope twinkling in his eye.

“Fuck, Jake.” You whimpered, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the intense storm that was coming. The muscles in your abdomen were rigid, bracing your body with support as the pressure steadily increased in the pit of your stomach. “God, please don’t stop.” You pleaded.

“Never,” it was more than a promise; it was a law that he would forever abide by. He wished to please you until he breathed his very last breath, and in death, he hoped he could continue doing it even then. Your legs began to tremble, no nerve ending spared from the pleasure he was granting you. A thin layer of sweat formed over your forehead as your heart thudded against your rib cage. When you descended into the orgasm, you faced the harrowing realization that a sober orgasm from Jake was worlds apart from a drunken one. In a sick twist of fate, it was even more earth shattering than any of the ones given to you the night prior.

As you came down from the high, nearly delirious from his hand still gently working at you, he watched you intently. He wondered if he could stay in the moment long enough to sear the memory into the forefront of his mind for the rest of eternity. When your eyes fluttered open to meet his, he wondered if you felt the same way about him. After a moment of silent conversation, he knew you did.

“That’s my girl.” He fawned over your exquisite performance, completely immersed in every small detail you had to offer. A rush of heat flooded your face, his words taking you by surprise. The possessive claim would have been unwanted from anyone else, but somehow it was all you wanted to hear from him. “I could do this all day if you’d let me.” He admitted, already desperate to start again.

“I think that would be okay.” You admitted, still flustered from the moment. You felt incredibly exposed in the daylight, unable to hide any part of yourself from him. Even if your anxiety was eating away at you, fearful he might not find you as attractive without alcohol and dimly lit rooms, he still seemed to look at you like you were the prettiest thing to walk the earth. You still did not want to allow yourself to feel special, because you knew that it was part of his motive to convince you of such, but it was becoming more difficult as time went on. If he acted this way with every girl he brought home, he would not have the time or energy to be so immersed in you. If he did, there would be hundreds of women knocking down his door to see him again, and unfortunately, you knew that now, you would be one of them.

“Yeah?” He smirked, shocked that you admitted to your own enjoyment. “Sure you don’t want to go home?” You rolled your eyes at him, knowing that he was only trying to get under your skin.

“I’m in no hurry.” You promised, finally feeling your skin calm from the tingling of your last orgasm.

“That’s good, because I wasn’t really planning on letting you leave.” He admitted. “Makes my job easier.”

“So you just thought you could keep me here forever?” You teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I would if I could.” There was no hint of a joke in his tone. “We’d have so much fun together, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know if I could handle it. You get on my nerves a little too much. I might go insane, and I don’t think that would be very much fun.” You joked, relaxing back into the mattress.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He chuckled. “Scared to admit you really do like me, angel?”

“Can’t be scared of something that’s not true, can I?” You sighed, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle. No matter if you thought he was the best thing to ever grace the earth, you wouldn’t be caught dead by saying it aloud.

“I’ll get you to say it eventually, sweetheart.” His rebuttal was effortless, and your rejection did not phase him.

“Whatever you say-“ you were cut off, completely distracted from your comment by his mouth connecting with your cunt once again. “Fuck,” you hissed, immediately thrown back into pleasure. He hummed against you, a final taunt before he continued with his tirade. He knew you liked him, and he knew he made you feel good. Although it was nice to hear the words, he did not need you to say them to know his effect on you.

He was working at you with intent, but you were not sure exactly what it was. You wondered if his goal was to get you to admit that you liked him, or to prove himself to you in hopes you would think he was worthy of being liked. He did not want you to feel like your entanglement was a waste of your time, and he wanted you to come back. You knew that much for certain, yet somewhere within his desperation, you sensed that he needed to prove to himself all of the same things.

There was no doubt that he was self-assured, but something about your careless attitude seemed to make him second guess it. He knew he could make you feel good, but it puzzled him to see your hesitation in admitting it. He knew you liked the sex, but perhaps he was more concerned with you liking his character. For the first time in his life, he felt the need to impress you in a further context rather than just sexually. He wanted you to like him so much that you could not even imagine what life was like before him.

The game was dangerous, but the reward was far beyond anything he could ever imagine.

He continued pumping his fingers into you, curling them slightly to hit the sensitive spot he’d grown so familiar with. His mouth was focused on your clit, his lips suctioned around it as he tried to coax another orgasm from you. “God, that feels so good, baby.” You moaned, your head filled with nothing but filthy, frivolous thoughts about him. The pet name was music to his ears, but it left him wondering if the only time you were willing to be nice was while he was having sex with you. Either way, it did not bother him, for he also felt that violence at your hands would be the most pleasant experience he’d ever had.

Your insults sounded more like compliments than any sweet words from another. He was addicted to your hostility in the same way that you depend on a substance; he knew it was unhealthy, but it felt too good to give it up. He feared that a day without it would be worse than death itself. You were both reliant on each other in a way that was more intense than you could comprehend. The relationship was driven by lust and had no promise of anything more, but it was enough. The desire shared between the two of you was stronger than what appeared in most marriages, and it seemed like it was permanent. It was so strong that you had unintentionally engaged in your second deadly sin just hours after the first.

Gluttony had become you both; the lust had pushed you so close to insanity that you couldn’t help but indulge in the sinful desires. You could not repent from what you had done, and salvation was no longer a possibility. If not for the need of food and water, you could have stayed wrapped up in each other until your very last breath had passed you by. The thought of turning to dust while still remaining in the intimate display was comforting, and you knew that a happier death was not plausible. Living out the rest of your life engaged in any type of sexual pleasure with Jake was enticing, and your only complaint would be that it would never be enough.

Your hands gripped at the sheets, holding yourself to the bed in fear that the pleasure would become so intense that you would float away in a cloud of euphoria. The noises coming from your mouth were pornographic, settling deep in the foundation of the walls and claiming yet another room in his home with vulgar memories. He would never be able to rid you from the place, even if he dedicated the rest of his life to forgetting. Your stomach was burning with an insatiable fire, and as he continued, he did nothing but encourage it with gasoline.

With one last stutter of his name, pleasure washed over you like never before. Stars danced in your eyes as your hand reached out for him, tangling in his hair. He held you to him, soothing the incessant shaking of your legs as he helped you through the climax. When you started to come down, he did not slow his movements. The warmth and persistent pace of his tongue was normally heavenly, yet the longer he continued, the more irritating it became. You did not have time to recover from the pleasure, and you made your first attempt at shying away from his touch.

His hands locked on your hips ensured you could not get away, but you were putting up a pathetic fight. Even the overstimulating feeling could not bother you enough to want to leave his grip. “Jake, please slow down.” You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut in response to the irritating sting. But, even your protest was weak, and you weren’t even sure if you wanted him to stop. He moved his head back, slipping his thumb in place to keep up the momentum, but it was enough to give you a break so you could gather your thoughts.

“Colour?” He asked, his eyes locked in on your face. Your entire body was ablaze with an unfamiliar feeling, but you could not seem to will yourself to tell him to stop. Instead, a choked moan sounded in response to his question. “Colour, angel.” He demanded, needed verbal clarification before pushing you any further.

“Green.” You confirmed, the word rushing out in a harsh tone.

“Stubborn little thing.” He couldn’t help but smirk at your unwillingness to give up. He liked it more than he cared to admit. Without any further conversation, he returned his tongue to you and continued his earlier pace.

“Fuck,” you groaned, finally feeling the pressure start to rise again. You were far beyond reality, now living in a dreamlike state that consisted of only Jake. He was everywhere, everything and all that mattered. Your hips bucked forward against his tongue, the movement unintentional yet unavoidable. Your body was following his command, and you had little say in what it chose to do. He let out a hum of pleasure at the thought of you coming undone again, knowing that he would never be able to chase a high similar to the one he got from pleasing you.

With one last lingering thought of the boy with his head nestled between your thighs, your entire body tensed in response to the euphoric state you descended into. In a mess of moans and curses, his name lingered in the air; you had sung it like a hymn to the world, and you were certain that if his neighbours cared to listen, they would only be jealous that they could not experience whatever you were feeling. He withdrew from you a bit prematurely, so amazed by your beautiful noises that he could not stop himself from admiring you once again. In a split second of fear, he thought he might come undone from the sight alone.

When you came down, you were exhausted from the energy you had exerted during your performance. You caught his gaze, feeling your stomach twist with pleasure at the sight of his lust-blown pupils. “You taste so fucking good, angel.” He rasped, still trying to catch his own breath. Another flood of arousal rushed straight to your core, and you began to realize that you would never be able to satisfy the craving for him. You reached out to him, settling your hand on the back of his neck. In one swift movement, you sat up at the same time as you pulled him towards you, capturing him in a heated kiss. The sex was phenomenal, yet you couldn’t help but feel that something was missing.

When he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, you knew that you had found exactly what you were looking for. Everything about him was irresistible, yet somehow, his kiss seemed the most deadly of all. It was so simple, a pleasure you could indulge in without the weight of any shame or emotion. “Fuck me, please.” You mumbled against his lips, your hands roaming every available inch of him.

“How could I say no to you?” He asked, parting from you to look over your face. You gave him a small smile, your cheeks tinged red from the excitement and the sweet tone of his voice. With little struggle, he slipped his sweatpants off and discarded them on the floor. You settled back into your earlier position, ecstatic about what was to come next. He took post between your legs again, but did not rush himself. He let his hands drift over your hips, slowly bringing them up your sides as he slipped them underneath the fabric of the shirt still resting on you.

You lifted your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head. With a lazy smile, he threw it over his shoulder, pleased to have access to the rest of you. “Gorgeous little thing, too.” He said, adding on to his earlier comment. You hated that his words had such a profound effect on you. Comments on your appearance always held little value to you, but when they were coming from his mouth, it was completely intoxicating. “You want me to fuck you, angel?”

“Yes, please.” You nodded, watching his eyes drift over your now exposed chest. He was looking at you similarly to how a predator would watch its prey, his expression nearly feral at the thought of what was in front of him.

“How bad?” He asked, dusting his fingers over your thigh. You debated whether to answer, knowing that it was the most effective way to get what you wanted, yet feeling like begging was just a little too far. As he waited for a response, he guided your leg around his waist, keeping a light hold on it for some extra support. “How bad do you want it, sweetheart?” He asked again, his tone more pressing. You held his gaze, not arguing with him, yet showing clear disobedience to his words. “Don’t be like that, baby.” He warned.

“What if I don’t want to beg?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him only slightly.

“You’re going to be a brat, now? After I was so good to you?” There was a small smile on his lips; you hadn’t truly bothered him, but the playful banter had thrown him off.

“Just asking.” You shrugged, but you couldn’t deny the throbbing between your legs. You would beg for him until your lungs collapsed, because you knew he was the only one who could do the job right.

“I bet that you wouldn’t want to find out.” He promised, his fingers tightening on you ever so slightly. He leaned down, taking his free arm and hooking underneath your other leg. In one swift motion, he pulled it up to your chest as he leaned down. His lips were hovering over your own as he waited for your rebuttal. The position had changed your mind, and with him so close to giving you what you needed, you could not seem to resist it. “Now, asked you a question. I want to hear you fucking beg for it, angel.” You shuddered at the strength of his tone, his words having more of an impact than any ones that came before. “How bad do you want me?” He asked again, his tone of voice lethal and clearly telling you that it was not up for discussion.

“So bad,” you squeaked, enthralled in the firm grip he had on you. It was making it hard to think about anything else. “Please, Jake. I need you to fuck me.”

“That’s better.” He hummed, thrilled about your cooperation. You could feel him resting against your entrance, driving you insane the longer he waited.

“Please, baby, I’ll be so good for you. I promise.” You upped your game, realizing that your argument had only made him less willing to give you any satisfaction. Even if he wanted you, he found more enjoyment in watching your desperation.

“Yeah? You want to be a good little whore for me?” He asked, moving his hips forward only slightly, just to give you taste of what you could have if you continued doing as you were told. You nodded, giving a hum of agreement to his statement. “You better mean it, angel. I don’t like being lied to.”

“I mean it.” You promised, eyes already rolling back in your head at the thought of him fucking you. It was such a powerful idea that it made your brain short-circuit if you thought about it for too long. Without any further hesitation, he pushed himself inside of you. He adjusted his grip on your leg, making sure it was secure before he started to rock his hips. You locked your other leg around him, hoping that if you mustered enough strength, it would keep him there forever.

You were already teetering on the edge, your body exhausted from the earlier rounds of pleasure. His hips were slow, but moving at a force that made your head spin and your stomach tie itself in knots. He was worked up, too, the drawn out teasing taking a toll on him just as much as it had on you. “Does that feel good, baby?” He said, eyes burning with desire. His stare was locked on your face, unwilling to miss a single second of your pleasure-ridden expression.

“You feel so good, sir.” You muttered, feeling a jolt of electricity every time the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix. It was addicting, intoxicating, and it was completely unfair that he could make you feel so fantastic. When you looked up at him, you had to blink twice to be sure that the devil horns were just a figment of your imagination. Once again, the shadows remained on the wall as a gruesome deception, leading you to believe you had made a mistake that would haunt you for the rest of time.

“You take it so good,” he said, yet his words filled the air with more resemblance to a growl. “Being such a good girl for me.” The praise settled in your chest like lead, weighing you down and forging a tie between yourself and his bed. You could not escape, but you did not care; it was so fantastic that you never wanted to leave, anyway. The usually empty spot on his mattress now belonged to you, and no other could ever replace you. The filthy acts you willingly took part in ensured that the curse of your relationship was infinite. No matter if he burned the mess of fabric and springs in hopes of purging you from his life, the next one he placed in the same spot would still have your name meticulously sewn into the seams.

He leaned down, capturing you in a kiss as his hips continued with their relentless motion. Your hands reached for his neck, holding him to you as his skin burned into your own. The two of you had become one being; two separate entities that shared a single heartbeat and survived off the same breath. Two souls that had been lost for so long finally meeting in a glorious reunion, finding home within the similar resonance and shared heartache. You were two completely different people, yet found comfort in the striking similarities of your closed off hearts, speaking clearly to each other in the only way in which you knew how to communicate.

You were not in love with each other, and it was unlikely that you ever would be, yet the relationship between you was stronger than anything love could produce; it was a profound understanding of the very things that had always been so misunderstood by others. It was a mutual agreement that love and dating was overrated, and you could find more enjoyment in friendship with the benefits of sexual intimacy. Neither of you cared to fall in love, and it was the very thing that drove you to each other. The sinful indulgence of your current situation was not voluntary, but rather a necessity after searching so long for something you thought you might never find.

“Can you cum for me, angel?” He asked, his lips barely parted from your own. You caught his eye, the crazed nature so powerful that it was nearly off putting. He needed you to orgasm in the same way he needed food or water; it was a requirement of survival, and he feared that if he went any longer without it, he may never recover. And so the term of endearment sounded again, just like the hundred other times he let it slip since he first laid eyes on you. He thought you were too ethereal to be human, but only in an essence of holiness. You thought he was too enchanting to be of the mortal realm, yet it was painfully apparent that it was in every way other than godly. His power was wicked, and the strength was only gifted to him for the intent of evil.

“God, yes.” You groaned, tangling your fingers in his hair once again. You were holding him as if you were afraid he would get away. The desperation was something new, and in his opinion, it looked incredibly good on you.

“Cum on my cock, baby.” He encouraged, trying his best to keep his movements steady. He was barely able to hold himself back, but he was determined to get you there, first. The sound of his words sent a shiver down your spine, and the pressure in your stomach reached a peak. You let out a gasp, your hands falling to rest on his back as your entire body descended into euphoria. Your nailed scratched at his skin, but you mind was not able to comprehend the potential injury you could have caused him. Instead, it was flooded with vile thoughts about all you were willing to do for Jake just to ensure he would keep making you feel good.

The state you were in was too much for him to handle, and his own orgasm came as you began to come down from the high. He had only enough strength to mutter your name before his thoughts trailed off into a slur of curses. After a few seconds, he slowed his hips to a stop. He loosened his grip on your leg and gently let it fall back to the mattress. He heaved a long sigh, his body still trembling from the intensity of the climax as he pulled you in to another kiss. When he parted, he rested his head on your chest but made no attempt to leave.

You melted into the touch, savouring the small moment of innocent intimacy. You let your fingers trace over the skin in which your nails has irritated, hoping that it hadn’t caused him any discomfort. You cared little for the formalities that normally came after such phenomenal sex, yet the moment you were sharing with him was deeply profound and so sweet that you could not deny your enjoyment. “I didn’t know sex could be so good.” You sighed, closing your eyes as you ran your fingers through the knotted strands of his hair. You could feel a smile growing on his face, not needing to see him to know how smug he looked at your confession.

“Seems like you’ve been wasting your time on the wrong guys.” He said, his fingers lightly tickling the soft skin on your thigh.

“Insinuating I’m wasting my time with you, too?” You joked, using your free hand to trace lazy shapes into his bicep.

“Do you think I’m a waste of your time?” He asked, unfazed by your response. You thought about it for a moment before giving him an answer.

“No,” honesty was heavy in the air “I don’t think you’re a waste of my time at all.”

“That’s good.” He said, placing a small kiss to your chest, happy to hear that you were happy.

“I think your coffee’s cold, now.” You giggled, casting a sideways glance to the mug sitting on his nightstand.

“Fuck the coffee.” He muttered. “That was well worth the waste of five bucks.” You laughed at his words, finding his charm so devastatingly beautiful. You hated that you liked him, and you hated that you couldn’t seem to convince yourself to dislike him.

“Five dollars for a single cup? Didn’t realize you had such expensive taste.” You said, feeling the warmth of his body nearly lulling you back to sleep.

“I have you in my bed, don’t I?” He replied without missing a beat. Your cheeks heated with a blush, which you had found you were doing an embarrassingly amount of since being in his company. “You want to go get cleaned up?” He asked, finally raising his head from the comfortable position he’d found himself in. You gave a nod, both of you knowing that a mess would be had if you waited any longer. Reluctantly, he withdrew from you, helping you from the bed and to the bathroom. You both cleaned up in silence, neither of you feeling the need to continue a conversation. When you finally had a moment to look at yourself in the mirror, you were shocked at the sight.

Your hair was wild, and old makeup still lingered under your eyes. Hickeys littered your flushed skin and finger shaped bruises decorated your hips. There was no doubt that your weekend full of excitement was written all over you, and in some strange way, you were happy to have the reminder. You knew when you inevitably laid down to sleep in your own bed later that night, you would miss the feeling of his hands on you. “You can take a shower, if you want.” He said, noticing your lingering gaze on the mirror. “I don’t mind.” He promised, brushing the stray hairs from your face and tucking them behind your ear.

“Yeah, only if you don’t mind.” You nodded, the idea more tempting than anything you’d ever heard.

“Of course.” He said, stepping towards the shower and flicking on the faucet. “Take your time.” He dusted his hand over your lower back as a way to reassure you he was being truthful. He didn’t mind your company in the slightest, and delaying your return home had been his intent all morning.

“Thank you.” You sighed, already drawn in by the steam billowing over the shower curtain. He gave a nod, leaving you to do what you pleased.

You stepped in the shower, feeling the warm water wash away the ache in your muscles, although it could not come close to cleansing you from the godless activities you had so willingly done. After a few moments of enjoyment, you searched around the bottles of shampoo and soaps. You weren’t sure how you felt about going home smelling just like your mindless hookup from the bar, but once you opened the bottle and the familiar scent hit your nose, the idea seemed enticing. You washed your hair and your body, taking your time with it before rinsing yourself clean. When you stepped out, you felt like an entirely new woman.

On the counter sat a neatly folded stack of clothes topped with a towel. A flutter of unfamiliar feelings rose in your stomach, catching you off guard and making you turn your nose up at your own emotions. You shook off the moment of uncertainty, reaching out to grab the towel and then you wrapped it around yourself. You dried off before taking to the clothes he had left for you and dressing yourself. When you broke into the kitchen, you heard the soft hum of music and the clatter of dishes. Your eyes landed on Jake, shirtless and in sweatpants once again, immersed in the song playing over his record player as he was turned to face the stove.

“That better not be breakfast.” You warned.

“Would you give it up about the fucking breakfast thing?” He laughed, looking back over his shoulder at you. The playful expression broke you from your fear momentarily. “It wouldn’t be breakfast now, sweetheart. It’s lunch, and you never gave me any rules about lunch.”

“Seems like you’re doing whatever you can to bend the rules.” You raised an eyebrow, walking to the counter and hoisting yourself up on the countertop. He took a few steps towards you, temporarily ignoring the food cooking on the stove. He settled between your legs, his hands finding your hips with little hesitation.

“I wouldn’t be a very good host if I wasn’t concerned with your comfort.” He said, his face leaning dangerously close to your own. “And if I remember correctly, we didn’t lay down any particular rules.”

“I’ll let it slide, but don’t make it a habit.” You warned, a smile tugging at your lips. Even when he was doing something that irked you, you felt compelled to enjoy it.

“Can’t you just appreciate someone being nice to you?” He asked, raising a hand to your cheek and gently cupping it in his palm.

“Just don’t want you getting the wrong idea.” You explained, pulling him in a little further.

“No need to doubt me, angel.” He said, his nose brushing over your own. “Love’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Right,” you agreed, giving a slight nod of your head. “Absolutely nothing to do with it.” You felt the need to cement the notion even further, just to ensure he knew the extent of your seriousness.

“Just two friends eating together,” he played into you, smiling once again. It seemed like the only thing he knew how to do when you were around.

“Reluctantly, at that.” You said, hoping he would lean forward and close the gap between your mouths.

“Stop pretending you hate me; you know that it’s not true.” He scolded, but his tone was incredibly soft. “We make fantastic friends, sweetheart, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“Friends is being generous.” You tightened your grip on him again, drawn in further by the warmth of his skin. “We’re really good at fucking each other. Don’t know if we can call ourselves friends, yet.”

“We are really good at that, aren’t we?” He reminisced on the memory fondly, his eyes glazing over with a yearning so strong it nearly brought him to his knees. “Give the friends thing a few more days, I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

“Whatever you say, Jacob.” You hummed, finished with making conversation with him. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his own in a moment of weakness. His hand drifted to the back of your neck, holding you to him as he responded with enthusiasm. His hand on your hip tightened, already enticed with the idea of sex again. You could not resist each other; the tension in the air was astounding whenever you shared the same space.

You were so immersed in each other that you did not even notice the food beginning to overcook in the frying pan, nor did you hear the opening of his front door. It was only when an unfamiliar voice sounded from behind you did either of you realize the carelessness of your actions.

“Jesus, are you trying to burn the place down?” The words sent a rush of fear through you, forcing you away from Jake with the same intensity of a child getting caught misbehaving. Jake recognized the tone immediately, rolling his eyes at the interruption.

“Sorry,” he muttered under his breath, giving your hip a gentle squeeze as he turned towards the disturbance. “Ever think of knocking?”

“I did, twice.” The boy stated, shutting off the stove and moving the pan to a cooler section of the surface.

“And when I didn’t answer you thought you should just… let yourself in?” Jake asked, casting a sideways glance at you to make sure you were okay. Aside from the blush on your cheeks and your racing heart, you almost found the situation comical. You had never been one to stress under any type of pressure.

“I have a key for a reason.” He shrugged, turning back to face the two of you. “Glad I did, though. Saved the fire department a trip over here.” The sassiness was astounding, and you thought it was hilarious. You recognized the boys face from the picture Jake had shown you the night before, and you were thrilled to see that his twin brother seemed to be a perfect match for Jake’s strong personality. They appeared to balance each other out, similar to the way the sun and the moon would for each other. The two seemed to be caught in a staring contest, housing a silent conversation with their eyes. After a moment, Josh made a move to speak again. “Are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend, or will I have to do that, too?”

“Oh, I’m not his girlfriend.” You cut him off, shaking your head at the thought. “Friends.” You clarified, knowing that the incriminating scene he walked in on was not backing your statement up. Josh laughed at your quick delivery, but understood what you were saying.

“Okay,” he nodded, a smile on his lips. “A friend who happens to be a girl?” He offered, raising an eyebrow.

“I like that better.” You nodded. “I’m y/n.”

“Josh.” He replied, looking between you and his brother. “Sorry for interrupting, I just live next door. Didn’t know he still had company.” He bit down on his lip, trying to stifle his laugh.

“No need to apologize,” you shook your head “think I was just getting ready to head home, anyway.” Jake visibly tensed at your words, angry at his brother for potentially being the reason he could not keep you there with him all day.

“Eat first,” Jake offered, looking back at you “I can take you home afterwards.” You caught his eye, noticing a silent plead for you to agree. You gave him a smile, nodding your head to tell him you would. You noticed him relax at the motion, happy that you felt no need to argue it. “You hungry?” He eyed his brother, extending the formality because he felt required to, not because he wanted to.

“Sure!” He grinned, happy for the invitation. Jake forced a smile as he nodded for the both of you to sit down. You did as he wanted, sliding off the counter and taking a seat at the kitchen table. As your eyes inspected the wood in which you were sat upon the night before, your cheeks burned at the memory and a rush of arousal ran through you once again. “So, Jake’s friend who is a girl but is not his girlfriend,” you looked up to meet Josh’s eyes, broken indefinitely from the vulgar train of thought. “Tell me about yourself.” You studied his face for a moment, finding their similarities astounding. In the picture you had seen, it was easy to tell them apart, but in person, you could really see the familiarity in their expressions.

“So, Jake’s twin brother, what would you like to know?” You asked, flashing a smile.

“He told you about me?” He pretended to gush over the thought.

“He did,” you nodded, laughing at the dramatic expression.

“Where are you from?” He asked.

“Here,” you answered, finding conversations with him much easier than the ones at the bar with his brother. You knew it was only because you were not interested in anything further than friendship with Josh, and you were incredibly invested in Jakes devastatingly beautiful presence. Friendship came easy to you, where as anything further did not, and you knew from the very beginning that Jake was looking to be much more than friends. “I’m a photographer, so when I graduated high school, I started my own little business and never really felt the need to leave.”

“That’s really cool.” He grinned, intrigued by your words. “How’d you end up with him? I know a pretty girl like you must’ve had more options than that.” You laughed at his question, but did not notice the look of daggers Jake shot at his twin.

“He’s alright, actually.” You defended, finding the humour comfortingly similar to your own. You were not shocked to know that Josh was just as charming and beautiful as his brother, yet it still seemed unfair that they had been born with such an advantage. “Guess we just ended up in the right place at the right time.” You shrugged.

“Seems so.” He agreed, watching as Jake handed out plates of food to everyone. Jake couldn’t help but feel jealous at the simplicity of your conversation with Josh. Although he liked the challenge, he was curious as to why you were so much more reserved with him. “Are you a music lover, friend that is a girl?”

“You can call me by name, you know.” You laughed at his question.

“I think I like the nickname better, but I’ll keep that in mind.” He joked.

“I do like music, though.” You nodded. “When your career is art in any form, I think it’s a given to enjoy music.”

“Fair point,” he nodded “any particular type?”

“I’m pretty well versed in all of the genres. My mom had me in piano lessons as soon as I could talk, so I’ve branched out quite a bit over the years.”

“Wait ‘till Sammy gets ahold of you. You’ll never get rid of him.” He laughed, eyeing Jake from the corner of his eye. You didn’t know if you were quite ready to meet the rest of the family, especially considering how abrupt your meeting with Josh was, but knowing that Sam shared a common interest was quite intriguing. You were still opposed to any type of relationship other than casual with Jake, but you were quickly growing fond of his brother. Then again, knowing Jake’s charm so well, you thought it would be impossible to not like the rest of the siblings. It was something he was born with, and you could only assume that the others would have it, too. You hoped that when the day was through, you would get the chance to talk with Josh again. He seemed like someone you would quite like to be friends with. Hopefully, you would eventually get to meet Sam and share your love for piano.

“Piano?” Jake asked, looking up at you. He was curious as to why you hadn’t told him that in your time together, but then again, he never asked. He was beating himself up for not trying harder to know you, because the more he listened to your voice, the more he felt inclined to get you to stay.

“Yeah,” you nodded, giving him a soft smile.

“Fitting.” He returned your expression, slinking his hand to your knee under the table.

“I’m sure Jake’s already made your ears bleed with the guitar, but if you’re more into vocals, I’d be happy to take you over to my apartment so you can get away from him for a while.” Josh teased, clearly only attempting to get under his brothers skin. Jakes gaze darted back to him, a look of anger flashing in his eyes.

“He hasn’t, actually, but I’ll keep that in mind for when he does.” You laughed, finding the brotherly competition funny.

“Really? That’s usually his go to when when’s trying to impress someone.”

“I guess I’ll look forward to it for next time.” You shrugged, making sure to settle Jake’s fears by letting him know you wanted to come back. He visibly relaxed back into his chair, happy to know that Josh had not managed to scare you away. You almost felt special at the knowledge, realizing he did not try to woo you with any of his usual tactics. When he said that you were special the night before, you did not believe him, yet as the time passed, you began to understand he was in fact telling you the truth. You should have known that when he wasn’t rushing you out the door first thing in the morning, but the confirmation was nice and very welcome.

“What about you, brother of the twin kind?” You asked. “Tell me about yourself.”

“There’s not much to say.” He shrugged, chuckling at your term of endearment. “I sing, I like film, and my lifelong goal is to piss him off.”

“Seems like a simple life.” You grinned.

“I enjoy it.” He agreed.

“Speaking of pissing me off, what exactly are you doing here?” Jake asked, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

“Oh, I came over to get the drafts of the songs we were working on the other night. Would have came over last night, but I think you were a bit preoccupied.” He giggled. Fear flooded you as you finally realized the extent of what he meant by saying he lived just next door. Your and Jake’s cheeks both tinged red with a blush, embarrassed by your unintentional public display of affection.

“If I give them to you, will you leave?” Jake asked, hoping for him to say yes.

“Sure.” Josh chuckled, finally realizing he may have overstayed his welcome. “Would it be somewhere in the pile of paper on the floor?” He couldn’t help but throw in another light jab, eyes flickering to the scattered items littering the ground.

Jake stood, reaching down and grabbing one of the journals from the mess and tossed it down on the table beside him.

“Yep,” he affirmed the joke, finding no need to lie about it. Your eyes were glued to the floor, though, permanently fixated on a flash of red peeking out from underneath Jake’s foot. Your stomach twisted with anxiety as you realized it was the torn remnants of your underwear he had ruined the night before. Then, a small flutter of adoration filled your chest, realizing he’d been concealing it the entire time to avoid causing you any further embarrassment.

“Guess that’s my cue to leave.” Josh chirped, rising to his feet. “I like her, Jake. You should bring her around more often.” He said, but it sounded more like he was scolding him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jake nodded, eager to get him out of his apartment.

“It was lovely meeting you, friend of the female genre, who is definitely not a girlfriend.” Josh flashed you a smile. “Hope to see you again.”

“You too, Josh.” You said, honesty radiating from you. You liked him, even if he seemed to come off a bit strong. He seemed like a bubblier version of Jake, who was much less inclined to try and get in your pants and more apt to brighten your mood.

“I’ll leave you be, then.” Josh looked back to his brother, telling him something without even opening his mouth. You almost envied the relationship between them, unable to comprehend knowing someone so well that you could communicate without words. With that, he turned away and walked back to his own apartment. Neither of you spoke a word until after you heard the door shut.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart.” He apologized, his posture relaxing as he took a seat again.

“No need to say sorry, I like him.” You admitted.

“Yeah, you certainly seemed to.” Jake said, a sour smile begging to turn his lips. “Gonna have to ask him what it takes to get you to admit that.”

“Are you jealous, honey?” You teased, almost unbelieving of the emotion in his voice. He rolled his eyes, unwilling to engage in your antics. “I like you too, Jake. A lot, if you haven’t noticed.” You said, realizing it had actually rubbed him the wrong way. Another one of your morals flushed down the drain in a split second decision, yet you didn’t seem to care. “Thanks for hiding the evidence.” You trailed off, looking to the floor at the torn piece of fabric. He looked down, too, almost laughing at the thought. He reached down, grabbing them off the ground before replying.

“Those are only for me to see, angel. I’m not that generous.” With that, he tucked the fabric neatly away in his pocket, flashing you a smile. You were furious at your body for wanting him so desperately, because you were already aching for relief just from his words alone. “You want to head home?” He changed the subject quickly, but his mind was still heavily occupied with the small memory sitting inside the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Yeah, sure. Wouldn’t want to take up too much of your day.” You nodded, yet you were almost saddened at the idea of going home. When you knew there was so much pleasure to be had in his company, being alone was lacklustre in comparison. “I can change out of these.”

“No, I’ll just grab them another time.” He said, the least bit concerned about getting them back.

“Okay.” You nodded, standing and grabbing your dress that was bunched up and hidden in the corner by the island. Without any further conversation, you made sure you had all of your belongings as he grabbed his car keys.

“Ready?” He asked, also noticing a sinking feeling in his stomach as he came to terms with the ending of your stay. You nodded, allowing him to lead the way outside. He showed you to his car, opening the passenger door for you before getting in himself.

The drive home was mostly silent aside from your occasional directions, yet you did not seem to find it uncomfortable. One of his hands was firmly clasped around the steering wheel, and the other was permanently anchored on your thigh. The hum of the radio was soothing as you watched the city go by through the tint of his windows. You let your hand rest gently on top of his, not yet comfortable enough to lace your fingers with his, but enough to know that you wanted to keep touching him. You pointed to a driveway just off of a side road, quietly telling him to turn into it. He did as you said, letting his eyes linger over the subtle decoration outside of the house. He smiled at the sight, finding yet another small detail about you that he was enthralled with.

“This is it.” You said, looking out the window at your front porch.

“So it seems.” He nodded, reluctant to pull his hand away from you. You both remained still, neither wanting to leave, and both dreading being the first to say goodbye.

“Thanks for everything. It was nice.” You admitted.

“It was my pleasure, sweetheart.” He assured you. “You should let me put my number in your phone, just in case you want to do it again sometime.” He looked over at you, praying to every higher power that you wouldn’t shoot him down.

“Yeah,” you nodded, happy he mentioned it. If you went inside without his number, you weren’t sure you would ever forgive yourself. You grabbed your phone from your pocket and pulled out your contact list, quickly handing it over to him. He took it, immediately typing in a number before giving it back. You looked down at the nameless number, finding it too impersonal after all you had shared with him over the course of your stay in his apartment. You hit the edit button, typing in just a single emoji; the little purple devil spoke more truth than a nickname ever could.

“Ah, the modern way to refer to a hookup.” He noted, chuckling at your choice of name.

“Exactly.” You agreed, but it was not why you chose it. Yes, he was a hookup that you would certainly be calling late at night, but it had little to do with the nature of your relationship, and everything to do with your judgement of his character. The longer you spent with him, the more you felt like he was the devil sent back to earth just to torture you. You typed in a small message, hitting send and waiting to hear the chime. After a second, his phone rang with your message, prompting a smile on your lips.

“Wanted to make sure I didn’t give you a fake number?” He asked, knowing that the idea was absolutely incredulous.

“Didn’t want to risk it.” You knew he would never have given you a fake phone number in hopes of losing contact with you. Your message served a single purpose, which was delaying your return to your own home. You leaned over, pulling him in for a kiss before bargaining with the thought of getting out of the car. He held you tightly, showing you through his actions that he was feeling exactly the same. “Do you… do you want to come in?” You rushed out, breathless from the kiss and nervous about rejection.

“I was hoping you’d ask.” He sighed, already stuck in a daydream of another night spent beside you, or more specifically, inside of you.

With a new found energy, you both bustled from the vehicle and rushed to the front door, caught in a fit of excited laughter. As you opened the door for him, you did not realize you had effectively opened the gate for him to come in and uproot your entire life. As you locked it behind you, the sin continued with no signs of slowing, now housed behind the four walls of your own home. When the two of you collapsed in a heap of limbs on the mattress, gluttony was bleeding from the walls and dripping down to stain your skin. When his hands ever so gently slipped under your shirt, exposing you to him once more, your second infraction of the capital vices made home in your hearts and stitched itself to the muscle, ensuring you could never escape its morbid fury.

With two already down and only five left to go, you were a fool to think that you would ever recover from the atrocities you had committed just to spend another minute alone in his company.

TAGLIST: @sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlove @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire @twistedmelodies @gretavangroupie @alwaysonthemend @edgingthedarkness @gvfpal @sinarainbows @writingcold @starcatcher-jake @literal-dead-leaf @takenbythemadness @gretasfallingsky @hsfallingsky @freyjalw @itsafullmoon @lyndz2names @blacksoul-27 @i-love-gvf

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joshym · 1 month

Text

Muse

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Your struggling artist is desperate for some inspiration.

Word Count: 3.4k+

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), a smidge of sir kink, some spanking, a lot of fluff because i can't help myself, Jake draws a naked portrait of you (let me know if i've missed anything)

a/n: special thanks to this lovely anon for this brilliant idea. this was way too much fun to write.

this was inspired heavily by that scene from the Titanic. (you know the one.)

as always, thank you to my favorite editor/motivator, @jakeyt.

i hope you enjoy. ♡

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

His frustration is palpable, evident in the nearly incessant huffing emanating from behind the closed door of his studio.

It's moments like these that leave you feeling utterly helpless. There’s nothing you can do, no inspiration you can provide that will pull him from his artist’s block.

He's been holed up in there for hours, since the early dawn, lost in the depths of his imagination, sketching away. You know better than to intrude; he's never been keen on sharing his work until it's finished.

In fact, he's never once allowed you a glimpse into his creative process. "It's the strange doodlings of a mind overrun with ideas. It's not to be seen until it's in its final form," he's reminded you countless times when your curiosity gets the better of you.

Still yet, you're consumed by the desire to witness his beautiful mind in action, crafting masterpieces in real-time, each stroke flowing from his soul through his tireless hand on his Somerset velvet sheets.

But, like any artist, he’s his own worst critic. He’s never truly satisfied with anything he creates, though you are left utterly speechless after each piece he finishes. His mind is a beautifully profound chasm of endless wonder, manifested through his artistry.

You hate when he has these moments of doubt, these instances when he questions whether he’s truly capable of such greatness.

And you especially despise days like today, when he spends the better part of it feeling as though he has a mental brick wall in the way of his ingenuity, hindering his hand from bringing to life what his mind so desperately longs to conceive.

Commissioned pieces, like his project today, always hold the most weight for him— from the need to earn a living, to his persistent worry that his art might not meet the expectations of the client.

It’s not that he doesn’t love doing them, or that he’ll ever stop taking them; quite the contrary, they’re his favorite pieces to work on. They provide him with an added pressure that elicits some of his best work.

But, reaching that point can be rather strenuous for him. It can at times take days, weeks before he discovers the creative impulsion he needs.

And right now, he’s in that very rut, awaiting the surge of inspiration that will reignite his dulled spirit.

There truly is nothing you can do when he’s lost like this, and any effort you’ve attempted in the past has always proved useless.

The one thing you can do, however, is prepare him some dinner.

He’s hardly left his studio today, and you know he’s not eaten much, if anything at all. Perhaps a morsel of sustenance will ignite the dormant embers of his mind.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

After a quiet tap to the door, he invites you in with a serene voice.

He looks tired, but lovely as ever. The golden hour has officially set in the sky, and the opened curtains on the windows have allowed for a warm hue to encompass his studio, enveloping him in its delicate lume.

“That smells absolutely divine,” he remarks as you enter his studio, his plate and yours delicately balanced in your hands.

“I figured a little homemade pasta would do you some good,” you tell him while you pad across the floor to his work station.

With a sly disposition and a playful glint in your eye, you aim to steal a glance of his day-long project, but alas, you’ve been caught. Your sweet Jake misses nothing.

"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, flipping the page over as he takes your hand, planting a tender kiss over your knuckles. "You know the rules."

“I know, I know.” Your response holds a bit of remorse. You know better, but can’t begin to help the relentless desire to see his mind at work.

Setting his dinner on the desk he’s working from, you move yourself across the small office to the green chaise lounge that sits across from him, silently seeking his permission with your gentle glances. The smile in his eyes tells you that he’s more than happy to be graced with your company for the time being.

After taking a bite of the spinach tortellini you prepared, he unbuttons his white striped shirt, removing it from his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head as though he’s ridding himself of the weight of his frustrations.

You can’t help your glare, watching him do something so normal yet so intriguing all at once.

His skin is velvety smooth, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, his chestnut wavy locks sitting atop his broad shoulders. You’re in awe each time you look at him; the sheer magnitude of his beauty never fails to steal your breath away.

And his necklace, his most cherished piece of jewelry that he wears each and every day. The precious coin, a relic salvaged from a centuries-old shipwreck that hangs against his chest.

The way it sits on his bare skin is nothing short of elating, sexy. It’s a wonderful addition to his already captivating aura.

He’s flawless. Everything about him.

Once he catches your gaze, he responds with a sly wink, eliciting a blush that paints your cheeks a bright shade of pink.

Then, a thought begins to swirl around your mind for a brief moment. One that you’re shocked you’ve not conjured until now.

The vision of the pendant against his bare skin sets your own imagination alight.

“I’ve got an idea,” you propose, your voice soft and sultry, trying to pique his interest even just a little, something that may help the rusted wheels of his mind turn at full capacity once again.

While his focus remains on his work, his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and you catch the hint of a grin daring to curl in the corners of his mouth.

“And what might that be, my dear?” he asks with an unknowing, devilish smirk.

As you get up, he hastily flips the page back over to hide his work from you once again.

“Don’t worry,” you say as you move behind him, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “I won’t peek.”

You glide your fingers along his skin, feeling the subtle rise of each goosebump in the wake of your gentle touch.

He hums inquisitively as you delicately take hold of the clasp of his necklace in between your index and thumb, undoing it in one fluid motion before slowly slipping it from around his neck.

“Be right back,” you say as you head towards the door. “Don’t move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, a myriad of questions splayed across his features.

With light steps, you make your way down the wooden floors of the hall towards your shared bedroom. Hanging on the back of the door is your sapphire hued satin robe, adorned with a delicate lace detailing along the hem—the one Jake has always fawned over.

The satin drapes coolly against your skin as you slip it on, wearing nothing underneath, save for the weight of Jake’s necklace resting against your chest that you hide beneath the fabric.

You run your fingers through your hair, adding a subtle tousled look, before applying a light blush to your lips and cheeks to impart a bit of natural color to your complexion.

And with that, you're poised and ready.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

As you turn the corner to face his studio, you see a very weary version of your Jake. His head sits in the palms of his hands, his leg bounces up and down at a rapid rate—a clear sign of the mental battle he’s waging.

This is as good a time as any for your little idea, and you’re hoping that it’ll be the very thing he needs to find some much needed initiative to keep going.

“Hi, baby,” you venture, leaning your body alluringly against the frame of the door.

As he looks up, a familiar twinkle dances in his eyes—a sight you've longed for all day long. It's a glimmer that tells you he's rather fond of the vision before him.

“And what exactly is your idea?” he inquires softly, slowly standing from his chair. But you stop him, motioning for him to stay just where he is as you saunter towards the chaise you were seated on just moments ago.

“My idea,” you begin, making a very slow, deliberate attempt to untie the sash holding your robe together at the waist. “...is for you to draw me.”

As if your thought has affected him physically, his posture immediately straightens, and his once tired eyes hold a renewed sense of life as they watch you intently.

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

Your robe suddenly falls to the floor, revealing your fully nude figure that was hidden beneath.

“Oh…” he utters, his tongue wetting his lower lip before tucking it between his teeth. “You can’t do this to me, baby. I can’t look at you like this an–”

“Consider it a commission,” you interrupt, tracing your fingers lightly up and down the skin of your torso. “And when you’re finished, if it’s to my liking, you’ll receive a full payment.”

With a raised eyebrow, his gaze sweeps up and down your form, while his index finger lightly grazes his chin.

“You’re quickly becoming my favorite client,” he quips, wiping a stray bead of sweat away from his forehead, tousling the front of his hair in the process. “Consider it done, ma’am,” he continues with a confirming nod of his head.

You lay yourself down on the forest green velvet cushions, positioning yourself sensually across the chaise. Your body is turned slightly to the side, your leg gracefully crossed over the other, an elegant display of your curved silhouette.

The warm glow that is so beautifully cast upon Jake, is now cast upon you, the aura laying over your nude body like a golden blanket of light.

“Is this okay?” you ask him, draping your arm over the back of the chaise, making sure the coin sits meticulously atop your chest before your other arm falls to rest against your body.

He simply grins while nodding his head, his eyes drinking you in, a mix of surprise and desire evident within his expression.

“Yeah, that um…that’ll do just fine,” he tells you, the slight crack in his voice eliciting a smile from you, a break in his professional facade.

With a deep breath, he takes his prized Faber Castell 9000, carefully sharpening the tip just a bit before putting it against a blank sheet.

And then, as the true artist you know him to be, he begins without a hint of hesitancy. The gentle sound of the lead scratching away at the paper fills the quiet room— a sound you’ve come to cherish, a sound that signifies his craft is steadily blossoming to life.

He seems charmingly nervous, his hand gently brushing against his nose every so often between a series of strokes from his pencil, clearing his throat more than usual. His eyes flint to you, then back to the paper, then back to you, a succession of his adoration and determination, ensuring that the likeness captured in his art closely mirrors your essence.

You try to keep your face composed, a seductive allure about your features. But as you watch him, immersed in his passion, the way he’s studying you so intently, it becomes nearly impossible to suppress the beginnings of a smile upon your lips.

But despite your efforts, he takes note of the curve adorning your flushed lips, mirroring it with his own. “Relax your face for me, beautiful.” The soft rasp in his tone is enough to send a blush throughout your whole body.

Breathing in your nose and exhaling through parted lips, you’re able to reclaim your composure enough to steady your expression.

Every moment you share with him is a brushstroke of beauty, but something about this one stands out. The intimacy of it all, how he must diligently study every inch of your form to convey your image through his art, the intensity behind his focused gaze…your heart is racing in your chest, despite your relaxed demeanor.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

With the sun almost hidden behind the early moon, he completes the final stroke.

He lays his pencil down, gently blowing on the paper to remove any stray lead before he picks it up, examining it closely while he walks it over to you.

As he holds it out before you, allowing you to at last see his craft come to life, you’re left entirely awestruck.

“Oh, Jake.” The sight before you leaves you nearly breathless. It exceeds every expectation, beyond the boundaries of your imagination. It’s a portrayal of you, but not just that— it’s how he sees you.

It’s the first time you’re witnessing yourself through his eyes, and in that, you feel a profound sense of beauty within yourself that you’ve never known.

“Do you like it?” He asks, a slight tremor present in his voice.

“It’s…incredible, Jake.”

Propping yourself up a bit, you carefully take the drawing from his hands, poring over his vast attention to the detail in your face, your body.

Specifically your breasts, how perfectly he depicted their round curve above your rib cage, encapsulating the fullness and allure of them.

You’re entranced by the way he drew the contour of your hips, how he captured the dip in them that you’ve always looked at with disdain, yet in his portrayal, you’re able to see the beauty in what you’ve considered a flaw.

He encapsulated everything, even the faint freckle beneath the curve of your left breast, and the mole under your belly button. He managed to immortalize all the intricate nuances that you typically overlook.

“Is this what I really look like?”

“Yes, but,” he takes the drawing from you, placing it on the mahogany table beside the chaise lounge. He helps you lay back down, gently caressing your face that he’s just conveyed through his artistry as he props himself above you. “The essence of your beauty defies any depiction.”

Then, his lips envelope yours in a kiss so fervent, so ardent, as though he’s waited hours to finally have you within his grasp.

His hand moves with a swift grace to your breast, fingers toying with your perked bud. This erotic moment with him has you already so flustered, so sensitive to every touch of his hands.

He breaks his lips from yours, only to land them down the column of your heaving chest.

“You’ve no idea how hard it was for me to look at you like this, to look at these,” he mumbles against the tingling skin, hands kneading the flesh of your breasts. “And fight the urge to come place my lips on every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”

And just as he said, he bestows tender yet hungry kisses down the length of your torso, maneuvering his body down the chaise lounge until he kneels before you. He nestles his face perfectly between your thighs, his warm breath tantalizing your wet center from his dangerously close proximity.

“I certainly hope you don’t let all of your clients pay you like this,” you mutter, breathless and yearning for his mouth.

“Only the ones that tickle my fancy,” he says, his words adorned with a playful wink before he delves into you.

He laps away at your pulsing cunt, like he’s been starved for your taste this entire evening. The lewd, lascivious sounds he’s emitting from between your legs only serve to heighten your need for him, causing your back to instinctively arch away from the plush cushions.

And when his lips envelop your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around it inside his warm mouth, your body trembles and shudders. A rush of warmth encompasses you, starting from the depths of your core, the pit of your stomach, spreading to every inch of your being.

You surrender to the intoxicating bliss, your breath catching in your throat while your heart pounds in a crescendoing rhythm.

He guides you through it, gently holding your hips in place while the movement of his tongue slows in perfect time as with the ebb of your climax.

“Oh, that was so beautiful, my love.” He lovingly kisses the inside of your thigh before he stands, removing the belt from his patchwork jeans. “Turn over for me, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” you quietly utter as you obey his demand, knowing good and damn well what that specific name does to him.

Just as he commanded, you turn your body over to your stomach, placing your elbows against the arm of the chaise, your back arched as much as you can so that your ass is sticking up just right for him.

“Love when my sweet girl calls me that,” he purrs before his belt hits the floor, his jeans and underwear quickly in tow and freeing his impossibly hard cock.

“So, what’s the verdict, my love?” You feel the cushion sink in behind you as he settles himself between your legs, his right hand caressing your hip while the other teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock, leaking with precum. “Was my work to your liking?”

You giggle breathlessly, poking your ass out even further as an offering to him for his hard work. “Yes, I believe you’ve earned your reward.”

He steadily begins nudging his cock into you, going slow at first, allowing you to fully adjust to him.

Inch by thick inch, he fills you completely to the hilt, your breath catching in heavy gasps that are robbed from your lungs as he buries himself deeply within you.

Your nails claw at the velvet armrest as his thrusts quicken in their pace, your upper body nearly going limp as you’re no longer able to easily hold yourself up.

His hands hold a firm grip at your lower waist, pulling you into his cock rhythmically, yet becoming more and more disordered as he’s beginning to lose himself to the pleasure.

You cry out a slew of obscenities mixed with his name, begging him to fuck you harder, faster.

Without question he complies, landing an open palm against your ass cheek. “So good for me baby,” he hums, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drives into you just the way you need. “So fucking good for me.”

With one more vigorous thrust of his hips, you feel that familiar rush throughout your whole body as your cunt throbs and pulses incessantly around his cock.

“Fuck, I feel you, baby. Pretty little cunt squeezing me so tight.” You feel the twitching of his cock inside of you, an indication that he's on the very brink of his own release.

“Cum inside me, sir. Please…need you to fill me.” Your voice is faltered, your body still reeling from your second climax.

“Jesus,” he groans, moaning exasperatedly as your words have him spilling within you, filling you with his warmth just as you requested.

He stays buried inside of you as he catches his breath, feeling his release slowly trickling down your thighs as you struggle to fill your own lungs.

You have to fight the urge to protest when he begins pulling himself away from you, not yet ready for the empty feeling he leaves you with.

You practically collapse against the cushion, your body exhausted in the most enthralling way, the kind of exhaustion that only immense amounts of pleasure can bring forth.

“My sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispers, kneeling himself before you as he softly caresses your flushed cheek.

You kiss the pad of his thumb as it crosses over your mouth, summoning the strength to lift yourself up enough to steal one from his lips. “I hope it worked,” you say, gently cupping his face in your hand.

“You hope what worked, my love?” He asks, leaning into your soft touch.

“I was hoping this would help inspire you.” You reach for the drawing, savoring its beauty once more. “I was hoping I could help inspire you, pull you out of your moment of doubt.”

“My love,” he murmurs, setting the portrait back down before he gently brushes his lips against yours. “You inspire me endlessly, every single day.”

His tender smile warms your very soul as he leans in for a deeper kiss, imbued with all the love you could ever want for.

“You’re my perfect muse,” he utters against your lips, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

a/n: suffice to say, this inspired the hell out of me when i've lacked inspiration/motivation lately. thank you, anon.

if you have any juicy ideas, feel free to send them my way. ♡

love you guys.

taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!)

@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @stardustcordzz @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @highway-tuna @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @kiszkashousee @psychedelicstardust-gvf @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardust-jake @gretavanbear @gvfmelborne @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @electricgoldtendercare @musicspeaks @hollyco @gvfpal @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @hernameis-heaven @mackalah @gvfmarge

Masterlist

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fluff #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf fanfic #gvf fics #gvf smut #greta van smut #jake kiszka #greta van fleet

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