#josh gvf fanfiction

[obetrolncocktails]

Deception | Josh Kiszka X Reader | Part 4

Warnings: angst, stalking, embarrassment, miscommunication, depression, JOSH SOBBING IN HIS MOM'S ARMS, some suspicious shit, broken off engagement, foreshadowing.

Word Count: 6,243

A/N: Hey guys! It's been a while, but it's here! Prepare for your hearts to be broken and broken some more. Josh is pitiful in this chapter, and I just wanna hug him and tell him it's gonna be okay. Also, there's an OC in this fic (Hailey), who has no relation to anyone in real life, I just needed a mechanism for something....I won't give too much of it away.

Summary: They say it's not the bomb that has the lasting effect, it's the fallout. You'd shattered each other into millions of pieces, so where do you go from here? What's left to save in the wake of explosion?

“He’ll come to his senses, I know it,” Hailey, Sam’s girlfriend assured you, forking through her salad. Her demeanor was nonchalant, but her words filled you with relief, even if it was through false hope. 

“I hope so. He has every right to be hurt for what I did,” you began, leaning against the park bench, squinting your eyes as you looked into the trees above. “I lied. I didn’t tell him that I knew who he was before–before everything.” You pulled your hands up in the air in front of you, frustrated with the truth of the situation. You had spent the last half-hour explaining the very thing that had torpedoed your relationship with Josh. 

“So, you didn’t lie,” she said, chewing a large bite with her hand covering her mouth. “You just withheld information.” She shrugged, batting away a fly. You couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it would be to be able to dismiss the severity of the situation like she did. Then again, she wasn’t the perpetrator. You were. 

“Everything was just so great,” you reasoned, sighing deeply. “We were in love, we had sex for the first time.” You covered your face from the dismay and groaned into your palms. “I love him so much, and I’ve fucked it all up.”

“Just by keeping some things to yourself?” She asked, her eyebrows raised. You watched her crack open a bottle of juice. “I don’t think Josh could possibly hate you for that. Hurt? I get it, but not hate.” She shook her head for emphasis as she tilted her head back for a sip. “How did he even find out? Did you tell him in that letter? Cuz, wow. Bad timing on your part,” she said, offering a cringing expression, gritting her teeth together. 

“No, I was waiting to tell him after his birthday. I wanted him to have a great time at the party.” You realized that the beds of your nails had begun to bleed from picking at them. You rolled your hands into fists and continued. “This is so embarrassing, and unbelievable,” You began. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, turning toward you, obviously more enthused and interested than before. You didn’t make eye contact with her as you stared forward, watching as a squirrel turned to look at you before skittering away with a captured acorn. Here’s where you’d have to admit that you’d had-have a stalker. 

“Someone knew about all of it. Knew about my account. Knew that I was a fan of the boys before I ever met them,” you started, your voice thin from painful guilt and from the feeling of being violated. “Even knew that I…” you trailed off, ashamed of yourself. “That I wrote smut about them.” She nodded silently for a long moment. “That I had a following on social media–a fan account.”

“Wow,” she said finally. “That is a lot. How did anyone find out?” She asked, putting her curly hair into a loose bun. 

“I don’t know. I privated the account when I met Josh. I should have just fucking deleted it,” you admitted exasperatedly. 

“But you didn’t,” She continued. You shook your head no. 

“Nope,” you answered, staring ahead. “They stole my password, changed the authentication phone number–everything. They stalked me for an entire month and a half, threatened me, followed me, took pictures of me, and destroyed my life. I have no idea who they are, or what they want. I haven’t gotten another text, so maybe they’re happy now. They got what they wanted.”

You had left your entire lunch unattended at your side, and, glancing down, you noticed an orderly line of black ants assembling up and into the salad container. Good for them, you thought. Absolutely nothing in your body had a desire to eat, anyway. “Have you heard from Josh?” She asked after a deep sigh. “He’s been off the radar since the party.”

“No, and I don’t expect to hear from him any time soon,” you said with a shrug, a gesture that felt as if you’d been holding the weight of the world on your shoulders. “I understand.”

“You don’t feel the need to defend yourself?” She asked, her expression changing to that of confusion. 

“It’s not worth it to argue my position and lose him forever,” you decided. “I thought about writing him a letter and leaving it in his mailbox,” you shrugged again. “But I don’t know if he’d read it.”

“I think he would,” Hailey argued. “Josh loves you, Y/n. It would surprise me if he just thought that you were some traitor or something this entire time. You can’t fake love.”

You took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll see what happens. Maybe he’ll just ignore me for the rest of my life, and I’ll just move to a remote island that’s far off the grid.” Hailey snorted. 

“I don’t think you’d survive very long,” She grinned before standing up and grabbing her trash. “You didn’t even finish your lunch,” she said, turning to watch the insects feast on your salad. “Ready to grab Jita? I can’t imagine they’re still doing her hair,” she said, rolling her arm in front of her to glance at her apple watch. You nodded, taking the first step forward, tossing your uneaten meal in the nearest trash can. 

***

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jake. Do the rehearsal without me,” Josh said exasperatedly, rifling through his closet to fill a duffel bag. “I don’t really give a shit.”

“Hey man, you don’t get to speak to me like that. You signed on to be part of this band. It is your responsibility to be there. It’s on the damn contract!” Jake raised his voice slightly, but what was more intimidating was the rasp that had grown with his rising temper. “You don’t get to run away.”

“Watch me,” He seethed matter-of-factly, elbowing past his brother. Jake stood there for a long moment debating his next move.

“Can you at least tell me where you’re going? So I know you’re safe…” Jake began, stepping out of his brother’s bedroom and into the living room where Josh stood, zipping up the large bag. 

With a deep sigh he finally answered. “I’m going home. Okay?” He said, looking up at Jake. Though Josh seemed to be acting out of intense anger, Jake could see within his brother’s gaze that it was a safety mechanism. It was easier for him to be angry than it was to process how deeply hurt he was. He’d remain closed off for now, and everyone would have to be okay with that. The best path forward would be to give him the space he needed. 

“Okay,” Jake agreed calmly, nodding his head once as he placed his arms across his chest. “Please travel safely,” he insisted. 

“By the time I get back, have Y/n moved out,” Josh ordered, disregarding his brother’s concern. His eyes were blank and absent of feeling as he uttered your name. 

“Come on, Josh,” Jake attempted. “You’re not even going to speak to her?”

“She knows exactly what she did to me,” he said, hiking the bag on his shoulder. “She can go live with one of her fucked up friends.”

“Who?” Jake asked, confused. 

“I don’t know, maybe one of the thousand that write fucked up stories about us.” Josh’s eyes were wide and wild, and it almost scared Jake. 

“You’re hurt–”

“I’m not hurt,” Josh stopped his brother. “I’m fine. Really. I feel stupid. This whole thing. It’s all a fucking joke.” 

“She loves you, Josh. You can’t just throw your entire relationship away–tell me how that makes any sense.”

“I know you think you’re being helpful, Jake, but I don’t want to hear it. I have a flight to catch. I’ll text you when I land.” With that, he was up and walking out of the door. Jake followed his brother out of the house. “And I meant what I said about her moving out,” he finished, before closing and locking the door behind him. 

“Okay,” Jake swallowed, regretting that he had to be the one to relay such painful information back to you. “You sure you don’t need a ride to the airport?” Jake offered. “I could spare the half-hour.” Josh shook his head. 

“No. I love you, but I’m fine. I want to be alone.” With that, Jake left his brother to back out of his own driveway toward the airport, following him until he had to make the turn toward his own house. 

***

Danny’s house was beautiful, but it didn’t feel like home. You no longer had your own apartment, your parents lived hundreds of miles away, and couch-surfing with friends would only be a viable option for a few more days. You knew that while you were at his house, you wouldn’t be a bother to Danny. You had missed several days of work already, and had stayed to yourself in his spare bedroom until the growling in your stomach became so severe, you were forced to pull yourself from your depression hole of a bed. 

 You heard your phone ping from beside you, and you reached for it. It was Hailey. 

“Hey babe, what are you doing today?”

 You had half a mind to respond,“Oh, you know, loving life,” but you refrained, instead typing “I have nothing planned. I’ve been laying in bed all morning. Please save me from my own depression pit.”

With the motivation of possibly getting out of the house, you stumbled to the bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror, and instantly regretted it. You were surprised that it didn’t crack just by the sight of you. Your hair had never looked worse, and your eyes were extremely puffy. Your cheeks had begun to break out from the stress of the last week. Sighing deeply, you forced yourself to take a shower, cranking on the faucet of the and waiting for the water to heat up. 

You weren’t sure how long you spent in the shower, but it was long enough for the searingly-hot water supply to turn ice cold, forcibly removing you from underneath it. 

“Y/n!” Danny called from downstairs. “I’m making some lunch, want something?” 

You cracked open the bathroom door and shouted back down to him. 

“Sure, anything you make is great!” 

“Cool, cool!” He responded casually. 

You stepped out of the bathroom, taking care to not slip as you dripped water onto the hardwood floor. You cursed yourself for not being patient and drying off adequately. 

“I figured we could go shopping, or do something to get your mind off things,” Hailey had texted back. 

You began to compose a message back to her. “Yeah, I think some shopping and walking around would help. Maybe we could talk about some things. Not sure who I can really turn to right now, you know? I don’t want to involve the boys, specifically Danny, more than he’s already involved. Josh is already pissed at him.”

“Just us! Don’t worry. We’ll make it a you and me day,” She texted, finishing with a heart emoji. 

“Meet at Danny’s in half an hour?” You asked, and she instantly answered back. 

“Sounds great!”

You tossed your phone onto the bed and heard it thump into the covers. You hadn’t spent much time with Hailey alone since she and Sam had started dating. Usually she would hang out with her local friends, and occasionally you and Jita would tag along with Hailey and you’d do something together. The lunch you had shared in the park the other day had felt kind of strange, but at the same time it was relieving to vent to someone who wasn’t directly in communication to Josh. Hailey was very responsive with everything you had to say, and for the most part, she didn’t seem to be judgmental, which surprised you. Something about her always made you feel a bit uneasy about getting too close. Now that you had chosen to lean on her for support, maybe she’d be just what you needed.

After getting dressed and brushing your resisting tresses into a ponytail, you grabbed your phone again, absently scrolling through tiktok, your heart thudding in your chest when a fan-made tiktok of Josh appeared on your FYP. You sighed deeply, and threw your phone back down on the bed, but decided after a long moment to pick it back up. You hadn’t tried to reach out to Josh in the last few days. His broken expression at the party had terrified you, broken your heart, and left you paralyzed to even know how to begin to explain the whole truth to him. Opening a new message to him, which you hoped would be delivered– God willing he hadn’t blocked your number. You took the gamble anyway and began a message. 

“I know you don’t want to talk, or really have anything to do with me, but I need you to know that I do love you, Josh. I love you with everything I have. Every bone in my body, every breath I take–is for you. You found out something I had kept from you for a while, but I intended to tell you. I wanted to tell you, until someone stole that from me. I’ve been stalked by someone for more than a month, and they threatened me over and over again. They had photos of me–” You deleted the last phrase for fear of going on too long. 

“Please don’t end things like this–this silence is not like you. Even if you’re angry, and hurt, which I know you are. Please talk to me. Please. I have made mistakes, but the one mistake I didn’t make was falling in love with you.”  You hit send. You felt as if someone had dropped the weight of the world back on your shoulders, and there was nothing you could do about it. So, for now you’d pretend to be okay. You walked downstairs and began to prepare for the day, shoving down the despair for a little while longer. 

***

Delivered. 

Josh had turned off read receipts to all of his usual contacts. He didn’t want to talk or entertain them. He simply wanted to disappear. As soon as his flight landed, he pulled his duffle bag off of the plane and retrieved a rental car, putting it into drive and almost immediately getting back on the road. Within an hour, he had pulled into the familiar town, passing the buildings and businesses that he had frequented his entire childhood and adolescence. He wanted to bring you here. He wanted to bring you back to his hometown, and show you everything that had made him into the person he had become. Now, all of those wants were thrown into the air with so much confusion, hurt and anger, that he had no idea what to do with it all. He finished the rest of the drive by forcing himself to tune out the sentimental thoughts that pried at him, the beautiful Michigan scenery rushing by without another thought. Occasionally through the drive, he swiped away the tears that betrayed his shredding composure. He knew this route by memory, having memorized every turn, every redlight and passing sign. And there it was.

As he approached the house, it took everything in him to not fall apart in the front yard. Stepping out of his car, he reached in and grabbed his bag and trudged up the stairs to the entrance of his childhood home, ringing the doorbell, which felt incredibly strange in the moment. Within seconds, Karen opened the door, her eyes wide as she discovered her son on the front steps, his eyes welling with tears. 

“Josh? Honey…”

“Mama–” Was all he could say before letting go. His mother was the one person in the entire world that he couldn’t, and wouldn’t lie to. No matter how hard he had tried, he couldn’t hide how utterly destroyed he was. 

“Oh, baby,” she comforted, pulling her arms around her son as he sobbed over her shoulder, his embrace so desperate and tight–as if he clung to her as hard as he could, he’d wake from whatever terrible dream he was having. His sobs ran loud and free for the first time since his birthday party, and Karen stood there with him in the heavy silence, holding him, her hands rubbing long lines up and down his back in a soothing pattern. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’re home,” She murmured softly, kissing his head over and over, rocking him back and forth in the afternoon sun. They stood there for a long time, Josh’s sobs slowing over time into choked sniffles. When they finally parted, Josh’s face had grown intensely swollen, his eyes exceptionally puffy, and his face reddened with exertion. 

“Come inside,” Karen said after another moment. 

“What’s going on?” Kelly asked, spinning around in the recliner in the living room. “Josh?” He asked, standing up and walking into the kitchen. 

“Hey Dad,” Josh offered with a tearful smile, wrapping his arms around his father, who returned the hug firmly, patting his son’s back. 

“I’m sorry about your girl–about everything, you know,” he said, attempting conversation, as much as Josh would allow. Josh offered a simple nod in response. 

“Did you come by yourself?” He asked, his eyes glancing at the front door. 

“I wanted to come alone,” Josh said, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “I really just needed to be away from everything. Out of Nashville.” Josh wiped the wetness of his tears from his face on his pants and continued. “I just–” He shrugged, unable to explain further. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Karen comforted him. “You know you’re always welcome to come home. We miss you when you’re gone, you know.” She took Josh’s hand, rubbing her thumb over the tops of his knuckles. 

“I made soup for dinner,” She mentioned, turning over her shoulder toward the kitchen. “It’s in the crockpot. Let me make you a bowl,” She insisted. 

“I’m fine, Mom,” Josh assured her.

“No. You’re going to eat. You don’t eat when you’re upset. I’m your mom, and I know you well. Eat this bowl, and I won’t bother you again tonight about it. Can you do that for me?” She asked, eyeing him sternly. Even in his fragile state, she still parented him like she always had, and in a way, though Josh would never admit it, it made him feel the tiniest bit better. 

“Yes, Mama.” 

“Can you put ice in glasses?” She asked as she ladled portions into bowls. He did as he was told, bringing out the glasses and filling them with ice.

“We’ll just eat in the living room,” she explained. “No need to set the table.” 

Being home quieted the hurt for a little while. His mom and dad loved him more than anything in the world, aside from his brothers and sister, and they did a good job showing it. 

“Your sister was here earlier. She’s visiting for a few days before heading back out to LA,” Kelly explained, spooning food into his mouth. “She’s doing the whole fashion thing,” he continued. It had been a long time since Josh had seen Ronnie, and though he was in pathetic shape tonight, he’d most definitely want to see her before he left for Nashville. 

The rest of the night was quiet, and Josh spent the evening curled into his mother, watching a movie as she mindlessly combed her fingers through his hair. After a while, he fell asleep, calmed into slumber by her nurturing spirit. 

“Josh, honey,” she said after a while, stretching through a yawn. “I’m going to head to bed,” she mentioned, rubbing his back to rouse him from sleep. 

“Hm?” he asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Oh,” he responded, looking around into the dimly-lit living room, deciding that he, too, was far too tired to stay awake any longer. 

“Me too, mama,” he agreed softly, standing up and stretching his limbs with a low groan. 

“Dad put sheets on your bed,” she told him, standing up and reaching for the remote to turn off the TV. “I’ll see you in the morning, sweetie. Thanks for coming home,” she smiled softly, stepping over to give her son a long, firm hug. “I love you so much,” she spoke. “And I’m sorry you’re hurting, honey.”

Josh squeezed his mother tightly, laying his head on her shoulder as she spoke. “I missed you, Mama,” he admitted, feeling emotion cause his throat to ache from the possibility of crying again. He cleared his throat and began once more. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too, baby. Get some sleep,” she said, planting a soft kiss on his cheek before stepping down the hall to her bedroom. 

In his childhood bed, Josh fell asleep almost instantly, suspended within the most restful sleep he’d had since the birthday party. Between the crickets chirping and the whir of his ceiling fan, he let his thoughts wander into a mindless drone of noise.

***

“Knock knock.” Josh’s eyes cracked open, squinting from the light cutting through the curtains into the bedroom. 

“Mom said you still weren’t up.” Josh felt the mattress sink towards his feet and turned to see his sister sitting cross legged at the end of the bed. 

Josh groaned, gazing at Ronnie, waiting for his eyes to adjust to a new day. “No peace,” he said softly and grumbly. “I get no peace anywhere.”

Ronnie moved to plop on top of Josh, chuckling when he groaned even more. “Get up!” She pushed, jostling him by the shoulder. “Mom told me what happened, and it’s my job to get you out of the house.”

“Let me mope in peace,” he grunted, reaching for the closest pillow, pulling it over his face. 

“Nope,” she insisted, stepping off of the bed to pull her brother by the arm. “Come on,” she grunted from the resistance that Josh’s weight posed. 

“Fine, fine! Ow!” He complained, stumbling out of his sheets. “Are you happy now?” He asked, scratching his head sleepily. 

“Very. Wake up and get ready,” Ronnie told Josh. “We’re going on a hike. You can’t say no.”

“No.” He said, leaning toward his sister, speaking just beyond the curve of her ear. 

“Ugh, you’ve got morning breath,” she said, scrunching up her face. To Josh’s amusement, he made a point to huff a deep puff of air into her face, chuckling when she swiped at the air with disgust. 

“You’re going, even if I have to drag you,” she said, stepping into the kitchen where Karen stood, cooking breakfast. 

“Going where?” she asked, turning over her shoulder as she worked on a batch of scrambled eggs. 

“I’m making him go hiking with me,” Ronnie announced matter-of-factly, a casual smile spread across her face as she shrugged. She walked over to the barstools at the island, and Josh followed, plopping down beside her. “Do I have permission to drag him out of the house?” She asked, echoing her warning to Josh. 

“Only if he doesn’t come back whining to me about it,” Karen said, grinning. “Josh, you should go. It will be good for you to get out of the house,” she said. “How do you want your eggs?” She asked, turning back to the pan. 

“Fried over medium. I’ll just make a sandwich if you’ll make the eggs,” he said, getting up to place two pieces of bread in the toaster. “Where are we even going?” He asked, turning to his sister. “There aren't really any places to hike,” he argued.

“Okay, we will be walking, but still,” Ronnie said, reaching for her plate as Karen handed it over the counter. 

Josh stepped behind his mother, reaching into the fridge for a bottle of orange juice. “Okay,” he agreed, taking a swig out of the container. 

“Joshua!” Karen scolded, turning and attempting to swat him with the now-cold spatula. Josh dodged his mother with a grin and a chuckle, plopping down in his seat beside his sister. 

***

“It’s been forever since I’ve been down here,” Josh admitted, looking out beyond the trail, watching birds stir from the comfort of their languid, sleepy pond, batting their wings and taking the air, flying high up into the sky, disappearing behind the alpine trees. “Probably since high school,” he said after a moment. 

“It’s been a long time for me too,” Ronnie admitted. The trail was only a mile from their house. Growing up, the kids had taken turns throughout the years of finding refuge in nature, taking the time to think and work through anything that may have been troubling them. Now, when Josh wouldn’t have thought twice to come back to this place, Ronnie had quite literally dragged him back to his roots, reminding him of the quaint protection that this area had served all those years ago. 

They were quiet as they walked together side by side, Josh kicking a worse-for-wear pinecone down the paved walkway. The asphalt was littered with a thin layer of pine straw, disguising the man-made trail underneath it. “So,” Ronnie began. 

He looked at her without a word, waiting for what she was going to say next. “You’re really not yourself right now,” she finally said, sighing. “Tell me what happened. Please.”

“There’s nothing really to tell,” Josh shrugged. Ronnie rejected his poor explanation instantly. 

“That’s not true in the slightest. You come home barely once a year these days,” she explained, stopping on the trail to turn to him with her hands on her hips. “If you’re here, I know it has to be bad,” she continued. “So tell me what happened.” 

It took much coaxing, but after a while, Josh began to open up, beginning somewhere in the beginning of the relationship. “Everything about her just makes sense–or made sense. She was so special. She understood me. She’s patient, funny, beautiful–” Josh continued, struggling to keep his tenses consistent, caught within the uncertainty of the current standing of his relationship. Ronnie nodded, arriving at the first bench, and sat down. Josh joined her and continued. “Since the beginning, we couldn’t get enough of each other, and it wasn’t like infatuation or anything like that,” he said, pulling off his Kavu hat to tangle his fingers into his unkempt curls. “She just knew me. She got me. I’d never ever had that before,” he said, his eyes cast down as he picked at the seam of his shorts. “Not in the way that left me thinking about her every single night. She’s my best friend.” Ronnie could hear the hurt in Josh’s voice, how the last words had crackled as they came out. 

“And what happened for that to change?” She pushed. 

“I don’t know how to explain–it’s so weird, I can’t–”

“Tell me one thing at a time,” she said softly, crossing her legs under her as she adjusted in her seat. “Take your time.”

“At my party, she handed me a card,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing as he remembered. “And she was smiling and so happy–I thought it was a birthday card.” his hands lifted in front of him, before dropping to his lap defeatedly. 

“Inside, there was a letter that said that Y/n knew who I was before we even knew each other. She wrote–she was–” he got hung up on his words. “She wrote stories about me. About the band.” Ronnie nodded slowly, understanding. “She had a whole dedicated blog about me– about the band, I mean.” Ronnie watched as Josh fidgeted with his clothing. “She lied. She led me on to believe she had no idea who I was when we met. The entire time we were together, she was a fan, not a stranger. I feel so–dirty? I don’t know.” 

“So she told you in the letter?” Ronnie asked, picking apart the situation one piece at a time, trying her best to understand. 

“No, it wasn’t her handwriting. It looked familiar, but it wasn’t hers. There were printed out pictures of her writing–screenshots of her blog, I guess.”

Ronnie let silence wash over the conversation for a long moment. “Josh,” she said, mostly as a statement. 

“Yes?” He asked. She looked out at the scenery in front of them. “Do you love her?” She asked, turning to look him in the eyes. 

“What?” He asked, though he heard exactly what she said. 

“Do you still love Y/n? Because so far, you’ve spent way more time telling me about the amazing things than you really have about the bad parts,” she said, tucking stray hairs behind her ears. 

He stopped for a moment and sighed. “Of course I love her, Ron,” he said. “Hell, I was going to propose to her at the party,” he continued. “But she ruined it.” She let the sting of his words calm before continuing.

“What’s the most hurtful thing about this whole– you know?” Ronnie asked. 

“I just feel lied to, and led on,” he admitted, rubbing his chin in an attempt to pacify and comfort the vulnerable feelings. “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“She didn’t really lie to you, exactly.” She said, squinting from the intense sunlight, turning to look at Josh. “Yes, she should have told you, but I can imagine that wouldn’t have been an exactly easy conversation to have,” she admitted. “And even so, it’s so embarrassing. Do you really think Y/n had this drawn-out plot to find you and make you fall in love with her? You’re many things Josh, but you’re not an idiot,” She said, punching him gently in the shoulder. He offered a half-smile. 

“I don’t know what I expected,” he answered. 

“Maybe she didn’t expect to ever meet you in real life. And–maybe she fell in love with you honestly. It didn’t matter that you are famous, or that it was you that she fell in love with.” She shrugged. “Have you ever considered that might be the case?” She asked. 

Josh shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“How did you guys meet?” She asked out of curiosity. 

“At the grocery store. On the pasta aisle,” he grinned, embarrassed. 

“Who spoke first?” She asked, as if scoping out Josh’s concerns, walking them back to the very beginning of the relationship. 

“I did,” He admitted. “She chose Rao’s sauce,” he grinned, nodding. “Girl has good taste.”

Ronnie chuckled through her nose. “You’re a loser.”

“How did she react when she met you?” She asked, moving further down her list of questions.

“She couldn’t speak straight, but she smiled so wide. She was funny–clever. Something about her just screamed to me that she was a good person, an interesting person,” He went on. “We clicked instantly. So much so that I didn’t bother getting her number. I knew I’d see her again.”

“And?”

“And I did. At the bar a few weeks later,” He went on. 

“Did she know that you were there?” She asked. 

“No, I don’t think so. She was with friends,” Josh continued. “From that night on, I just knew that it was her. I would have never told her, but I just knew it.”

“So do you really think she was pretending the entire time?” She asked finally. 

Josh was silent, trying his best to find words to say.

“Josh,” She began again. “What is the one thing that the world needs more of? You always say it.”

“Love,” he said, eyeing his sister with a suspicious rise in his brow.

“Did you even let her explain everything? Give her time to tell you all of it?” Josh shook his head, looking off in the distance. “Nope.”

“Why not?” She asked. 

“Because in the moment, I felt so violated that I couldn’t even look at her. I mean, I had the ring in my pocket, Ron.” 

“If you had the ring and were ready to propose, that tells me you were prepared to spend your life with her,” she replied. “You’re not a casual person, Josh. You never have been. Are you really willing to throw away what could be the love of your life over something she obviously feels awful about?” 

There was another long silence, save for the wind brushing through the trees. 

“And it doesn't make sense how you even found out about it,” she continued. “Who told you? Who wrote that card?” 

“I don’t know,” he explained. “Honestly, I didn’t even think about it,” he explained. “I knew Y/n didn’t know that it had been switched, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I just wanted to leave.”

“I’m going to be very honest with you. I don’t think it’s very fair to Y/n to believe everything you were shown at first glance, and then not even know where the information was coming from, even if it was true.” She delivered her opinion honestly, but still remained careful. 

“Danny knew about it. He knew everything.”

“Josh, it’s Danny we’re talking about. Do you really think he would betray you by siding with a crazy stalker fan?” Josh stared straight ahead, picking nervously at his cuticles. His gaze fell, staring down at the ground for a long time.  “You’re no longer the kid from Frankenmuth who sings in choir and gets the lead in musicals. You’re not a nobody.”

“Wow, thanks,” he said with a sarcastic chuckle. 

“You’re famous, Josh,” She continued. “And you’re becoming well-known in circles you probably never expected or dreamed of.” Josh nodded. “I don’t think it’s fair to place that expectation on your partner–to be a perfect stranger who’s never heard of you, even if that is how you think you’d want to meet them. If it ends up happening that way, cool, but don’t determine the end of your story together based on how it started.”

“I just didn’t want to be known for my music when it came to stuff like that,” Josh explained, visibly disappointed. 

“And why’s that?” She asked, crossing her legs as she adjusted in her seat. “Don’t you think that your music is an extension of who you are as a person?” 

“Yes, but that’s not what I mean,” He said. “I just want her to love me for being me, and I felt like she did, but now, I feel like I’m questioning everything.”

“You know what you need to do. You’re upset, and rightfully so, but I don’t think you’re upset that Y/n was a fan of yours. I don’t think that at all. You’re upset because she didn’t feel like she could tell you the truth. You’re hurt that you had to find out the way you did. You wish you’d heard her tell you first, and not in front of your closest family and friends. That was wrong.” Ronnie’s words were hitting home for Josh, and it was exactly what he needed to hear. 

“You can be hurt by someone and still love them. You can be hurt by someone and still want to be with them and work through things. I can’t tell you what to do,” She said, standing up from the bench. “But I can tell you that the brother I know would have told me the exact same thing. You would have told me to trust my gut, and lead with love, even if you end up getting hurt in the end. So,” She said, stepping forward and placing her hands on his shoulders. “You need to go home and talk to her–and you need to decide now if you love each other enough to move past this.” 

“Who taught you to be so wise?” He asked, his lip curling with enthusiasm. 

“Mom and Dad,” she answered with a grin. “But I’ll throw your name in there if it makes you feel better,” She finished. 

“I love you,” he said, pulling her in for a long, well-needed hug. 

“I love you too, turd,” she answered playfully, squeezing her brother tight. “I know you’ll make the right decision.”

“I hope I will,” he said, already lost in thought. 

“I know you will,” she repeated. “You’re Josh. You’re always the heart of everything.” Josh couldn’t exactly understand why it had made him so emotional, but Ronnie’s words had simultaneously shattered the rest of him, and repaired the broken pieces all at once. You’re always the heart of everything. He’d continue to be that person, even if it meant that he would hurt in the end. 

“I’m going back to Nashville,” He announced, clearing his throat, working through the emotion.  “I need to fix this.” He swallowed, straightening his posture as he stood up. 

With a keen eye for departing flights, Josh had cancelled and rebooked the soonest one he could find, opting for a less than ideal airline and paying an exorbitant amount of fees, but he didn’t care. He’d determined that through all of the hurt, he still couldn’t tell himself that he didn’t care about you, and no amount of convincing himself would stop him from loving you–being in love with you.

Touching down in Nashville that next morning, he booked it to his house as quickly as he could. 

He was coming home to you–if you were still home, for that matter. 

End of Part 4.

Taglist: @doodle417 @watchingovergvf2@capturethechaos @sammyfuckingkiszka @ace-harrington @gvfvanfleet @flo-gvf @sacredthefran @jjwrites @jmkho @joshsindigostreak @gold-mines-melting @allieisacrybaby @sammysprincess@gretavansara @dannythedog@demolitionndann @gretasmokerising @shesawomaninadream @sonicbaptism @vixenstail @hearts-hunger @malany-gvf @cal-a-bungaa @rhythm-of-space @alwaysonthemend@meetingthestardust@ageofsinners @katelynn-gvf @ageofwagner @dannythedog @allieisacrybaby@sacredthethreadgvf @takenbythemadness @st4rdust-ch0rds @joshysgirl @gvfvanfleet @gretasfallingsky @madneedshelp @lipstickitty @demolitionndann @myownparadise96 @meetingthestardust @vanfleeter @gold-mines-melting @sacredthefran @mini-vann @sacredthethreadgvf @love-and-greta @gretafaninheat @positivegvfthings @loveisonaroll @writingcold @tearsofjosh @meetingthestarcatchers @fallonfatality @puzzle-gvf @takenbythemadness

[builtbybrokenbells]

Heartbreak Hot Seat | JTK

After seeking refuge at her best friends house, Y/N can’t seem to open up enough to let Josh help her with her troubles. In a twisted turn of events, it appears that his twin brother Jake has the perfect remedy for a broken heart.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 20k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), body worshipping, sir kink, impact play, praise, degradation, biting, nipple play, lots (and I mean lots) of dirty talk, lots (can’t stress that enough) of foreplay, body shots, softer sex (compared to what I usually write), overstimulation, multiple orgasm, (sort of) forced orgasm, simultaneous orgasm, begging, very brief and inadvertent mentions of free use kink, slight dom/sub, name calling, touch of angst, mentions of cheating/bad past relationships, breakups, sadness/depression (due to breakups), crying, long emotional talks, drinking, parting, Jake being too sweet for his own good, soft Jake, fluff, swearing, sorry if i miss any!!

hi guys ☺️ i miss writing Jake so much I had to hit you with back to back fics. this is literally porn w plot (over 2/3 of this is just smut I think), so I hope you enjoy this as much as I liked writing it! As always, enjoy, be kind, don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (I’m so, so happy to be back) (lightly edited 🥰)

“Here, you want to try this?” Josh asked, nudging your arm in hopes of breaking you from your solemn state. You blinked a few times, feeling his elbow on your skin, but his words were far away. They seemed like an echo in an empty room, like you had walked into the place only after he stopped speaking. Breathing seemed like a treacherous task, your bones aching every time your lungs inflated. You stared blankly at his hand, holding a fork in his grasp as he kindly offered you a taste of whatever he was eating. “Jake made it, it’s good.”

Jake made it.

You were sure whatever he made would be good, but the thought of food was worse than sickening to you. You wanted to be kind, to try the meal your friend (even if by extension) had made, especially after he offered you the hospitality for an afternoon hangout his home, but you couldn’t seem to accept the gracious offer. The crowd in the living room was overwhelming, despite only a few bodies being present. The chatter was loud and pulsing against your already busy brain, and Josh’s leg resting against yours was nice, but much more than you could handle in the moment.

Josh knew there was something wrong, but unlike usual, he could not seem to pry it from you. Over the last three nights you had spent crashing in his spare room, he used every ounce of energy to comfort you despite being unaware of what exactly your troubles were. You knew you could reach out to him anytime, talk to him about anything, but right now, it seemed impossible to speak the words aloud.

You had been friends with the boy for what seemed like a lifetime, surviving off his constant company and thriving off his eccentric personality. He stuck by your side through college graduations, career changes, and every challenge life seemed to throw your way. You were a busy woman, and he a busy man, and neither of you had much time for social lives outside of your demanding work schedules. Even so, that fact made your friendship all the stronger, because despite your lack of free time, you always made time for each other.

So when you showed up at his doorstep, 3am and crying while spewing absolute nonsense, he guided you to his spare bedroom and told you that it was yours for as long as you needed. The next morning, he came to check on you only to find you hadn’t slept at all. Hours spent sitting beside you attempting to cheer you up only resulted in further confusion and frustration. Despite his busy life, he cleared his schedule and made it a priority to be with you until you felt better. That afternoon, you managed some small talk, but avoided the elephant in the room. The next day, things felt a little more normal between the two of you. A few jokes were shared, and you even had a movie night in the living room with him and his partner. By then, Josh had vowed to let you speak on your own terms, but was doing everything he could to brighten your mood.

Today, when you woke from a broken and nightmare filled sleep, Josh knocked at your door to ask if you would like to get out of the house. After some internal debate, you decided it might be good for you, it might help you forget the only thing you could seem to think about, even if it was temporary. You showered (with Josh talking through the door and stressing the importance of self-care, of course), changed into some clothes you stuffed into a duffel bag during your quick escape, and the three of you hit the road.

After a short drive, you landed at the door of his twin brother’s house, where you would spend your afternoon. Jake, who you had heard loads of things about, was still a mystery to you. Between conflicting schedules and trying (and failing, sometimes) to find time to hang out with Josh, you never got much of an opportunity to get to know Jake, or even Sam for that matter. You knew he was quieter, a little more reserved than Josh, but was funny and had a heart of gold. You chalked up his praise to being his brother, but you never knew Josh to be a liar about anything. You trusted all he had to say about his brothers, and despite your sadness, you were excited to finally meet them properly, rather than just in passing.

You said a brief hello to Jake at times, mostly when you were leaving Josh’s house and he was heading in. You remembered him to be on the shorter side, but with a breathtaking smile and long, brown hair. When you stepped foot into the house and finally had time to appreciate the man standing in front of you, you understood Jake was a lot more than a pretty smile and long hair. He was stunning, and despite your broken heart, you couldn’t help but stare.

Not long after your brief introduction, the rest of the crowd begin to filter in. Sam and his girlfriend both seemed lovely, and Daniel and the friend he brought with him were just as nice. Jake had made lunch, and whatever it was smelled heavenly even if the thought of food sickened you. After a few hours of laughing and talking, the boys went back for seconds, clearing out the last of the food in the kitchen. The day was dwindling into evening, and you still hadn’t managed to break from your solemn state. You sat, listening to all of the conversations and laughing along to jokes, but didn’t find yourself with enough energy to contribute much.

Josh, clearly picking up on your lack of involvement, was doing all he could to help. Offering food was just another failed attempt of many.

“I’m okay, Josh. Thank you though.” You forced a smile, feeling guilty for your constant rejection. You wanted to tell him so badly, but every time you worked up enough courage to explain it, your words failed you and you thought you might be sick. His sad eyes seemed to be staring into your soul, and it was becoming too much to bear. “I’m, uh, is it okay if I grab something to drink?” You cleared your throat, asking for permission in hopes of changing the subject.

“F’course it is, mama.” He assured you. “You want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s okay.” You assured him, sliding forward and rising to your feet.

“Grab anything in the fridge. I know Jake won’t care.” He said, making sure you didn’t feel bad about taking anything.

“Okay.” You smiled, small but genuine. You didn’t feel deserving of Josh’s kindness, but you were still grateful he cared for you so much. If not for him, you would have nobody to lean on.

Quietly, you walked out of the living room and in the direction of the kitchen Jake had lead you to earlier in the day. When you were alone, you let out a long sigh. The kitchen was decorated nicely, simple but tasteful, and the sweet smell of whatever Jake had cooked was still lingering in the air. Instead of walking to the refrigerator, you took a seat at one of the kitchen chairs pulled out from the table, deciding a minute alone was more important than a glass of water.

You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back on your shoulders. The chatter floating in from the next room was much less overwhelming, and you finally felt like you could breathe without the constant ache in your chest. Just when you felt like you were getting your bearings back, you heard soft footsteps puttering through the hallway. You swallowed the lump in your throat, the same one that was constantly bothering you since you showed up at Josh’s house, and prepared for another round of questions from your best friend. You didn’t turn to face him, figuring he would make himself known in due time.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” The voice was not as familiar to you, and definitely not the voice you thought it would be. You looked over your shoulder, curious as to who was talking. Your eyes landed on Jake, a sheepish smile on his face as he stood by the door.

“Hey, yeah.” You nodded, trying to make yourself friendlier than you felt. It was not Jake making you miserable, or anyone for that matter. You wanted to be having fun, to be getting to know the people most important to your best friend, but the weight on your shoulders made it so hard to enjoy the moment.

“I saw you sneak out, thought I’d come and check in on you.” He explained, careful with his words. “Mind if I sit?” You gave a chuckle, and genuine smile as you listened to his words.

“It’s your kitchen, Jake, f’course you can sit.”

“Right,” he nodded, stepping towards you. “Guess I was wondering if you were up for company, or if you just needed a minute alone. I know it can be a lot to handle when we’re all together.”

“No! You guys are great, guess I’m just not in it today.” You said, knowing he hit the nail straight on the head but you were too nice to admit it. “Come sit, please.” He did as you said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. He was in perfect view and facing you, giving you ample opportunity to soak in his features as he thought about how to continue the conversation.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. Josh mentioned you were going through a tough time when I called him this morning. We were kinda hoping it would take your mind off whatever’s going on.” You wanted to recoil at the idea of Josh sharing your sorrows with a man you did not know, but the intent was sweet, and you knew Josh would never do anything to harm you. He was just a concerned friend looking for a way to cheer you up. Jake, despite being a near stranger, had enough kindness in his heart to want to help too.

And sweetheart.

You didn’t know the man, nor much about him, but you definitely wouldn’t mind if he called you that again.

“Thank you,” your lips twitched into another smile as you looked down at your hands on the table. “He’s pretty great, isn’t he?”

“Josh?” Jake asked for clarification that he heard right, raising his eyebrow at you. You gave a small nod, almost wanting to laugh at his incredulous tone. “Yeah, I mean I guess. I kind of have to agree, cause he’s my brother and all.” At that, a genuine laugh filled the air, the first one that left your lips in days. Jake was hung on your laugh the minute it left your lips, finding the sound addicting despite just having heard it for the first time. The smile on his face made it apparent he only came to cheer you up, and he was happy he could do it even for a moment. “No, he is pretty great, even if I do hate him by times.”

“It’s a sibling thing, I think.” You said, looking back up at his face. “Love them, even when you hate them.”

“Exactly.” He nodded, agreeing with you. “He’s my best friend, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to kill him sometimes. Has a great heart, but he can be a bit… annoying.”

“Josh? No.” You scoffed, playing into the bit as clear sarcasm dripped from your tone. At that, Jake let out a laugh of his own. You watched, in amazement at how beautiful such a simple sound could be. “Seriously though, I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Yeah, you guys have been friends for a long time, haven’t you?” He asked, leaning forward and into the conversation. It was your turn to nod, finding years of memories flash before your eyes when you thought of it for too long.

“Yeah, I met him as I was finishing up my graduate program in university. He’d just moved here, and I guess he was looking for some friends. Right place right time, I suppose.”

“Funny how things like that work out.” He said, listening intently to every word.

“For sure.” You hummed, pursing your lips slightly at the memory of how you met. “Ran into him at a bar, drunk off tequila and singing a terrible rendition of… oh, fuck, what was it?” You racked your brain, trying so hard to find the name of the song in the mess of your mind. “It was Neil Young, I remember that much.” You sighed, shaking your head at your spotty memory.

“Don’t Let It Bring You Down.” He finished for you, a sparkle shining in his eye as he saw your expression light up.

“Yes! How did you know?” You asked, shocked he knew before you did.

“I was there that night, and I definitely made fun of him just as much as you did.” He explained, chuckling at the thought.

“You were there?” You asked, even more surprised at that fact.

“Yeah, think I was playing pool with Sam. Josh sucks at pool, so he was trying to find a thrill elsewhere. He told us he met someone, he really liked their ‘energy’. Guess he was talking about you.” He continued, nodding at himself as he recollected the night from so long ago. “That, and he sings that damn song every time he drinks tequila.”

“Huh,” you huffed, wondering how you managed to miss him that night. “I guess I was out the door pretty fast. I don’t even think I talked to Josh for very long. Got his number and we were off to the next bar. We loved to party back then.”

“Shame, cause he’s been keeping you an awful secret for the last few years.” Jake let out a disapproving tsk at the end of his statement.

“No, it’s not him.” You promised, shutting down the notion. “Life’s crazy. I’m either always stuck at work, or at home—“ you cut yourself off, hearing the sound of the word fall from your lips. It was wrong, and so much so that it twisted your stomach with nausea. “Stuck at work.” You doubled back, feeling a frown start to form again. The word home felt like a sour taste in your mouth that you couldn’t swallow back.

Jake watched you for a moment, curious about your sudden change of heart, but understanding it might not be the best time to venture into it.

“Did you want a drink, sweetheart?” Jake asked, his eyes flickering to the fridge. “Maybe something to take your mind off it?” You debated, wondering if it would better or worsen your mental state. Before you could decline, he spoke again. “I was gonna have one anyway, so it’s no trouble at all. Be nice to have someone to drink with, anyway.”

“Fuck it, why not?” You breathed, watching as another breathtaking smile blossomed on his lips. “I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Great.” He stood, taking two steps past you as he approached a cabinet by the refrigerator. “Want to come have a look?” He offered, looking back over his shoulder at you. You shrugged, nodding as you stood to join him. He opened the doors, revealing a plethora of bottles that all looked a little more expensive than you were used to. “Whatever you want.”

You noticed how close he was standing, how sweet his cologne smelled as it wafted in your direction. It was musky, ambery even, with sandalwood standing strong against the undertones. He had his finger resting against his chin as his eyes scanned the labels, clearly unsure of what he wanted, too. You couldn’t help but study the intricacies of his face, the bridge of his nose and how it casted a shadow over his soft cheeks, the unintentional pout of his bottom lip, and the enchanting colour of his irises. He was stunning, and it was hard not to notice it.

‘Stop it, Y/N. You’re in no position to think anyone is attractive, let alone your best friends brother.’ Your thoughts were right, full of warnings you knew you should listen to, yet there was something so enchanting about Jake that made it difficult to listen. ‘Thinking he’s attractive is only bad if I plan to act on it, which I’m definitely not. It’s okay to admire him, as long as that’s all it is.’ You felt the devil weigh in on the matter, and for some reason, that train of thought was much easier to go along with.

So you did. Simple as that, you decided to allow yourself the pleasure. It was almost as simple as acknowledging how beautiful Jake was.

“Anything catching your eye?” He asked, looking over at you. You knew he was aware of your staring, and when your eyes caught his, your cheeks tinged red. He gave you a smile, silently telling you all was well.

“There’s so much to choose from.” You said, forcing yourself to look back at the liquor cabinet.

“Do you like it straight, or do you prefer something sweet?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you once again. Although the question was innocent and clearly pertaining to the topic at hand, you couldn’t help but feel your heart speed. Your body was encased in goosebumps at the simple thought of him meaning it in any other way.

“Usually sweet, but I think today I could handle it straight.” You replied, having to tear your eyes away from him again. Had you looked for a moment longer, you might have noticed the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“This is my favourite.” He said, reaching out and grabbing an expensive looking bottle. He brought it down to your level, leaning into you slightly as he let you read the label for yourself. As his arm brushed against yours, you felt the same pull of your heart as you did when he first sat across from you.

“I’ll try it out.” You mumbled, a little breathless as he looked over your face.

“Good taste,” he hummed. “You’ll like it, I promise.” He assured you, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip ever so slightly.

“I trust you.” You said, feeling like you were coercing your tongue to speak the words.

“You should.” He responded, waiting for you to step away first. It felt like an eternity before you stepped backwards towards the table, but when you did, you missed the closeness of him almost immediately. The warmth of his body against yours was memorable, and definitely something you wanted to feel again.

You returned to your seat at the table, followed closely behind by Jake. Before he sat, he grabbed two glasses and the ice tray from the freezer. Carefully, he poured yours first before adding a few ice cubes to the cup. Then, he nudged it in your direction before fixing his own drink.

“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” He asked, swirling his ice around his cup before bringing it to his lips. As he sipped at the amber liquid, his eyes never left your face.

“Oh, nothing important.” You shook your head, averting your gaze to the glass in your hand. You did the same, raising the crystal to your lips and drinking down the alcohol like it was water.

“You’re drinking that awfully fast for someone who’s got ‘nothing important’ going on.” He noted, cocking his head to the side for a moment, as if he was trying to figure you out. “I’ve got an ear to lend, if you want to talk.” He offered, but opted not to press any further. He didn’t want to force you if you weren’t willing, but he did want you to know that the floor was yours if you needed.

“I wouldn’t want to bore you.” You chuckled, watching the condensation of the glass drip onto your fingers. The chill of the liquid distracted you from the severity of the topic. “You’ve been kind enough already, Jake. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for inviting me.”

“No thanks needed, y/n. Seriously, Josh talks about you enough that I feel like I already know you, and trust me when I say, I like you just as much as he does.” He promised, taking another small sip of his drink. “And I offered, sweetheart. I want to listen, even if you don’t think I do.”

“What is with you two?” You chuckled, shaking your head at his staggering kindness. “Too nice for your own good, both of you.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” He grinned, finding your exasperation amusing.

“No, it’s not.” You shook your head, feeling your heart warm with gratitude for the two brothers. You barely knew Jake, but you agreed with what he said. Josh spoke about him enough that you felt like you were friends already, and by all of the nice things Josh had to say, you definitely liked him. Since stepping foot into the kitchen, you had come to greatly appreciate him for other reasons, too.

“That’s the heartbreak chair.” He explained, running a hand through his hair as he pushed it away from his face. “Something about it draws people in.” Your eyes flickered up to his face, shocked that he made such an assumption, and even more surprised that it was right. He barely knew you, but he could tell without you having to say a word.

“It’s that obvious?” You asked. He shook his head, rubbing his chin in his hand for a moment before he spoke again.

“No,” he cleared his throat, taking in a long breath before he continued. “Like I said, there’s something about that fuckin’ chair.”

“How so?”

“Two years ago, Sam sat there when his girlfriend broke up with him. Must’ve spent the whole night sitting there, drinking away the pain.” He said, thinking back on the event. “And Daniel, a few months back when him and his girlfriend went separate ways. Even Josh, a long time ago when we first moved here.” He explained. “Whatever it is, when people get their heart broken, they sit there. I usually sit here, but it’s not always me they’re talking to. Sometimes it’s Josh, or another friend, or anyone really.” You thought about his words, carefully considering your next question before asking it.

“Have you sat here?” Your eyes were showing the sadness you tried so hard to hide. You didn’t know why, but you were comfortable with Jake. You wanted to talk, to tell him all about the sadness plaguing you. Something about him made you believe that your sorrows were safe with him, and that he was the key to feeling better.

It was an invasive question, something personal and maybe too complicated for him to answer. You regretted asking, but hearing about his brother's sorrows didn’t sit right with you. If you were giving him a piece of you, you wanted a piece of him. He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between your face and the whiskey in his cup. Eventually, he gave a slow nod.

“More than anyone else, I think.” His honesty was sobering, and it was admirable. Because of his willingness to share his sadness with you, you felt even better about opening up to him. “I’ve never been lucky in love. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.” He shrugged, the joke rolling off his tongue effortlessly despite the hidden pain in his eyes. “About six months ago, I was doing the same as you. Came home, she was gone without a trace. I stayed a few nights at Josh’s house, just ‘till I was strong enough to come back here, and I drank it all away. I’ve sat in that chair, sweetheart. You’re not the only broken heart this house has seen. Trust me.”

“It’s hard to open up to Josh about it.” You said, forcing your hand to hold the glass to the table. The burn of the alcohol in your chest was much preferred to the ache in your heart, but you persevered. “‘Specially when I watch how happy and in love he is. He’s got everything, you know? Nice house, kind heart, beautiful face, and a wonderful boyfriend. It’s intimidating talking about my mess of a life to someone who always seems to have their shit together.”

“I can see what you mean.” He nodded along, agreeing to an extent. “You know, he’d never think differently of you. He loves you a whole hell of a lot.”

“I know that, but I think when you’re this miserable, it’s hard to believe anyone cares that much.”

“For sure.” He said, swallowing down another mouthful of whiskey.

Just as he placed his cup down on the table, the distant chatter in the living room began to move closer. Both of you turned to the entryway to the kitchen, wondering what the disturbance was. Soon enough, the crowd filled the doorway, but only Sam and Josh were visible.

“Think we’re gonna head to the bar, you two in?” Sam asked, oblivious to the situation in front of him.

“I’m good.” Jake said, his tone firm and certain of his answer. Josh looked at you, curiosity in his eyes as he waited for a response.

“Y/N?” Josh asked, wondering if you were joining them. You looked between the twins, your eyes lingering a bit too long over Jake. When you looked back at Josh, you shook your head slightly.

“Think I might hang out here a bit longer, if that’s okay?”

“F’course it is.” Jake chimed in. “You go, I’ll get her back to your place safe and sound.” Josh looked to you once more, making sure you were alright. You gave him a smile, nodding your head in agreement with Jake.

“Okay, I’ll see you later. Love you, mama.”

“Love you too, Josh.” You smiled again, wider and with more warmth than ever.

With that, the group moved towards the door, and they were out in the yard within seconds. The silence hung heavy between you and Jake, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. So far, despite you being a stranger, your talk with Jake had been nothing but comfortable.

“So, does that mean you don’t think I have my life together?” Jake continued where you left off, clearly teasing. The smile on his face gave him away as he pulled his chair a little closer to you.

“‘Spose I don’t know you well enough to know, yet. From what I see, looks like you do, if that counts?” He let out a laugh, finding your humor despite the pain beautiful.

“You hungry?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Noticed you didn’t eat earlier.”

“Think I missed the draw on that one.” You said, looking at the empty dish on the stove. He stood, wordless as he walked to the refrigerator. He searched for a few seconds before pulling out a plate, flashing it in your direction.

“Put some away for you, just in case. I knew they would eat it all, so I just wanted to make sure there was some left.” He explained. The sound of his words made your heart ache, but it wasn’t in a bad way; the simple action, especially coming from someone who barely knew you, made the whole world seem a little bit brighter. You understood Josh’s constant talk of how big of a heart Jake had now that you had the chance to see it for yourself.

“Thank you, Jake.” You mustered the strength to speak, in awe of his attention to detail. He stuck it in the microwave, waiting for it to beep before placing it in front of you with a fork. Without mentioning it again, he sat back in the same spot, as if the last few minutes had never happened at all.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked again, more direct this time now that he felt he had some kind of leverage. Clearly he made a good enough impression on you, considering you hadn’t run out the door when the opportunity arose. Before responding, you took a few bites of the meal he’d made in preparation for his company. Your eyes fluttered closed in bliss, the taste something you had never experienced before. You weren’t sure if it was just because he was a good cook, or if it was because it had been days since you had a proper meal. Maybe, it was a combination of both.

For such a simple looking pasta dish, it was beyond anything you had ever eaten before.

“This is so fucking good, Jake.” You commended him for his efforts. He let out another laugh, happy that you were enjoying it.

“Good to know,” he nodded. “I’ll have to make it for you again sometime.”

“You’ll never get rid of me.” You joked, placing the fork down for a moment, wanting to make the meal last.

“Not the worst idea in the world.�� He shrugged. You felt your cheeks dust with redness, his words almost too sweet for you to handle. You washed down the pleasant feeling of his compliments with another sip of whiskey, settling back in your seat as you prepared to confess.

“I think I’ve always been too blind to see the bad side of people,” you started, simple and easy to kick off the topic. “I like to see the best in everyone, ‘till the very end.”

“Admirable.” He responded quickly, shocking you with his interest in your sorrows.

“I dated this guy for a while, a few years at least. Guess it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but I loved him, or the idea of him, more so. He moved in with me not long after we met, and it was nice. Things seemed real good for a long time, but a couple months ago, he kinda pulled back a bit. I didn’t think much of it, ‘cause I was working all the time anyway, but I probably should have.” You sighed. “I started noticing he was gone when I came home at night, or when he went out, he stayed out far too late for a couple drinks with friends. Found some… suspicious things around the house, but chalked it up to a bad memory.” You laughed, shaking your head at your own stupidity. “I went home after work on Friday, and he was in bed with another girl. Mutual friend, real pretty, sweet on the surface… everything that I’m not.”

“That’s not true, sweetheart.” He shook his head, stopping that thought before it could go any further.

“Think we were long overdue for a breakup, but I thought it would be more decent than that.” You shuddered, recalling the moment that had been plaguing you for days. “I’m less heartbroken over him than I am for the whole thing. It’s just… dehumanizing, I guess. How many times did we… you know, after they started? And in my bed? Where I sleep at night?” You continued, watching the ice circle the bottom of your cup as the liquid neared the end. Jake reached out for the bottle, popping the cork and refilling your glass for you. You smiled, a silent thank you for everything he was doing.

“There wasn’t really a fight, or anything. I mean, I yelled for a little while, but it wasn’t worth my time. I told him to pack his shit and get out, and I assume he did. I haven’t been back, but I haven’t heard from him, either. Guess I just… don’t want to be in that place right now, alone, with that memory.”

“Don’t know the guy, but I can tell you he’s a fucking idiot.” He said, throwing back the last of his drink and refilling his own cup. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to be home. Like I said, I stayed at Josh’s for a while too. Sometimes it’s nice to get out of the place full of stuff that reminds you of them.”

“Yeah, exactly.” You gave a somber nod, blinking away tears threatening your eyes. “Think it always circles back to the same thing at the end of the day… hard not to think it’s me, that I wasn’t enough, or if I could have done more. That’s the hardest part of it, really. Not like he was the boyfriend of the year or anything, but I never would have done that to him.” You took another long swig of whiskey, feeling your head begin to swirl with intoxication.

“It’s not you, Y/N. You know better than that.” He said, furrowing his brow as he thought over your story. “So what is it? What do you need?”

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

“He got what he wanted, so what do you need, sweetheart? To scream? Cry? To get so drunk that you don’t know where you are?” He listed the offers, as if they were all completely reasonable and understandable. He didn’t want to speak empty words, or give you reassurances that would wash right off your shoulders once he was done speaking. He wanted to help you feel better, however he could. “We could even key his car, if you know where to find it.”

You let out a laugh, one that shook your shoulders and made your stomach ache. While you laughed, tears slipped on to your cheeks, but they did not phase you. Jake’s company was so fantastic that the hurt didn’t even seem to bother you anymore.

“You’re too beautiful to be crying over someone like that, sweetheart.” He leaned over, using his thumb to brush away the teardrops staining your cheeks. Once he finished, he cupped your cheek in his palm, ensuring you knew he was being truthful.

“No idea how you’ve never been the bride, Jacob.” You said, exhaling a long breath as you melted into his touch. It felt nice to be touched at all, and even better to be touched by someone who cared. It felt like it had been an eternity since you had experienced that in particular.

“My day will come, just like yours will.” He promised. “I know it hurts, but with time, you’ll thank him for it, because a girl like you shouldn’t end up with a guy like that.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You said, the utmost sincerity in your voice.

“Don’t mention it.” He brushed off the thanks, smiling over at you. “Now what is it? What will make you feel better, right now? ‘Cause I’ll be damned if I send you out the door before you feel better.”

“I just want to stop.” You sighed, rubbing your face in your hands. “I want to stop hurting, to stop thinking about him, to stop feeling like a different person. I want to feel like me. I want to feel good, instead of being miserable.” Jake leaned back in his chair, watching your face carefully as he thought about your request. You looked over at him, chuckling at yourself. “I know, steep request. Probably not much in the world we can do about that. Yet, anyway.”

“No, there is.” He cleared his throat, pursing his lips together slightly. You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued by his response.

“Go on.” You urged him, curious about his idea.

“I don’t know if I can help you feel exactly like yourself again,” he started, looking up at the ceiling while he tried to word his response. “But I definitely have a quick solution for some of those problems.”

“Let’s hear it, then.” He smirked at your eagerness to feel better. Before he continued, he threw back the last of his drink for a second time. You could tell he was feeling it now, too. His cheeks were tinged pink and his eyes grew heavier the longer he sipped away.

“You’re open to any suggestions?”

“Well, most.” You huffed, almost annoyed by how long he was dragging this out. “Maybe not murder or armed robbery.” He laughed at your exuberance, shaking his head slightly.

“Well, sweetheart…” he sighed. “You want to stop thinking about him, and you want to feel good.” He listed, waiting to see if he was correct. You nodded in response, still not seeming to piece the two together. “If you’re open to trying it, I’m sure I could solve both of those problems at once.”

“Okay, Jake, this is not helping. Can you just—“ you cut yourself off, your eyes widening in shock as the puzzle finally clicked in place. You swallowed hard, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. As you looked at his expression, your cheeks burned red and your throat went dry. “Just to clarify, are you offering what I think you are?”

“Depends, beautiful.” He said, his tone soft and his eyes trained to your face. “What do you think I’m saying?”

“Are you offering to fuck me?” You wanted to be repulsed by the idea, but you were far from it. If anything, the feeling burning in the pit of your stomach told you the exact opposite, imploring you to fall into his arms and let him do as he pleased with you.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that would get your mind off him.” He argued his point, playful and calm so you knew rejection was more than allowed. “And if you’ll let me, I know I could help with that other part, too.” He let out a small huff of breath, as if he was excited just by the prospect of the opportunity.

“You offer that to every heartbroken girl who sits in this chair?” You asked, ensuring he knew you weren’t denying the offer.

“No,” he shook his head. “You’d be the first, and the only one, I think.”

“You think?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Never know what the future brings.” He shrugged, trying to keep his composure. As soon as he saw your bewildered face, he doubled over in laughter. It took him a few moments to regain his composure, but when he did, he did not seem to retract his statement. When he realized you took his words seriously, he stood from his chair, stepping towards you as he spoke.

“Yes, sweetheart. The only one. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He asked, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Yes, maybe? I don’t know.” You said, your eyes darting around the kitchen to avoid his heavy stare. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in this situation, so I’m not sure how to react.”

“Only if you want to, of course, but the offer is on the table.” He said, retracting his hand so as not to pressure you into it. You took a drink from your cup, finding your chest burning as you did so. Difference was, you knew it was not because of the liquor. As you sat the cup back on the table, you looked up at him, inspecting him closely.

He was attractive, and that was undeniable. You had been thinking about it since the minute you saw him, and you couldn’t seem to get the thought out of your head. Just half an hour ago, you were shivering from the closeness of his body when you were standing by the liquor cabinet, and now you were quivering just from the thought of his hands on your body. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but in the moment, what he was saying made sense to you.

He was hot, you were desperate to forget, and he was offering a quick solution.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Why not?” He watched you for another moment, standing still while you decided for certain that’s what you wanted to do. “Uhm, we won’t tell Josh about this, right?” You asked, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over you.

“Definitely not.” He laughed.

“And it’s just that? Just sex?”

“Just sex, just tonight, if that’s what you want.” He assured you.

“Okay.” You nodded again, more confident this time around. “Just sex, just tonight, with a guy I just met, who happens to be my best friend's twin brother?”

“It sounds better my way.” He said, taking a step towards you.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“Sex with someone who is happy to make you feel better.” He spoke quietly, kneeling down so he was eye level with you. His face was closer than it had been all night, and if it were even possible, he was even more stunning up close.

“Yeah, that does sound better.” You agreed, smiling slightly as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Jake seemed to prompt more of a physical reaction in you just by looking at you than your ex did in the entire time you’d been with him.

You weren’t sure if it was the whiskey combining with the heartbreak forcing you to make a deadly decision, or if it was just the fact you were attracted to him. Either way, you knew you couldn’t leave his house without a taste of what he was offering, because he had excited you just by mentioning it. You felt like leaving him without knowing what he could do for you would cause more grief than your breakup had in the last few days.

“So what do you say, sweetheart?” He asked, reaching forward and brushing his knuckle over your burning cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, but you tried not to let it phase you too much. “You want me to help you forget about him?”

“Think you already have.” You mustered the strength to speak, but not the strength to look him in the eyes. You were sure if you did, you would turn to putty in his hands.

“So you’re saying you don’t need anything else?” He pried, finding the teasing amusing now that he knew you were okay with his actions.

“No, I definitely do.” You corrected him, finally opening your eyes to look over his face. “I really do.”

“Tell me what you need, angel.” He said, flattening his palm against your cheek again. His fingers were tangled in the loose strands of hair hanging over your neck, the action more telling than the last time he touched you. It was firm, more reassuring, and meant to solidify his feelings about the situation.

“You,” you bit the inside of your lip, almost embarrassed about your need for him.

“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Think we’re long past that.” He said, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Although he had full intent to follow through with his earlier promise, he wanted you to be in charge of the matter.

“Kiss me, please.” With that, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours as he held your face in his hand.

His lips still tasted like the alcohol he was sipping on, and his skin was still cold from the ice in his cup. Even so, the chill of his skin was quickly offset by the warmth of his tongue as it glided past your lips. The feeling was addicting, much more intense than you thought it might be. Your hands reached out for him, desperate for more. His fingers seemed to be burning into your skin, the touch electric and the sensation ten times more powerful than anything you had ever felt before. The emotion flowing through you from such a simple action was immeasurable, and you already needed more.

“Like that, sweetheart?” He asked, his lips still ghosting over yours as he presented the question. You were breathless, your head spinning and your mind completely free of the painful thoughts that previously seemed permanently attached to you.

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your voice quiet. You could feel him smiling, cocky enough to know his plan was already working. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Come with me.” He said, moving away from you and rising back to his feet. Although you were sad he pulled away at all, you knew it was for a better reason. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and his own cup, waiting for you as you tried to bring yourself back to earth. You took your own from the table, waiting for him to make the next move.

He outstretched his arm, still holding the bottle tightly in his hand as he loosely wrapped the appendage around you. Carefully, he guided you to the hallway. Without any further words shared, he led the way to his bedroom with intent to finish what he started. As soon as you stepped inside, you were surrounded by him. His cologne lingered in the air, and his clothes littered the floor. His bed was messy, but in the most inviting way possible. Patch cords and guitar picks littered the surface of his dresser, and an acoustic guitar took post in the corner of the room.

Although the stipulations of your entanglement did not extend beyond a single night, curiousity got the best of you. With your heart singing a song curated specifically for him, it was hard not to want to know more about him. Seeing his life so intimately made you crave more substance from him, even if it was ridiculous for you to think.

“What’s on your mind now?” He asked, placing the liquor down on his bedside table.

“Nothing bad,” you assured him, still trying to soak in all the room had to offer. “Guess I’m just curious about you now, is all.”

“All you have to do is ask.” He said, taking a few steps towards you. “Later, though, because talking isn’t my top priority right now.” You watched him as he closed in on you, your stomach twisting with excitement at his words. Before he could place his lips on yours again, you swallowed back the last of your drink and placed the empty cup on the top of his dresser, freeing your hands so you only had to focus on him.

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you as your hand landed on his bicep. Now, with the opportune position, he had the luxury to touch you as he pleased with nothing standing in his way. One of his hands fell to your hip, his grip firm as he pulled your body into his own. He leaned down, placing his other hand on the back of your neck as he guided your head towards his. He started slow, fearful he might have come on too strong, but you weren’t willing to take your time with him.

It had been a long time since you had been excited by the prospect of sex, and despite knowing you should not be feeling such a way about anyone, let alone Jake in particular, he had elicited that response from you easier than anyone who came before. Even though his kindness was the most abundant of all his traits, you caught a few glimpses of what lie beneath, and if you were being completely honest, that was what held your attention.

The way his arm felt resting against yours at the liquor cabinet, the sly smile after his ambiguous questions, his heavy stare when he thought you weren’t looking, and the sparkle in his eye when you laughed. That was what drew you in, and everything else was just a cherry on top.

When you first sat with Jake, you almost felt guilty that you were so willing to tell him about your troubles, especially after shutting Josh out. Now, with his lips on yours and his hands exploring your body, it made sense that you felt such a way. Jake was offering much more than Josh could, and he could help in ways that Josh could not begin to imagine. He gave you an easy pass to forgetting, a quick solution to feeling good, and a simple way to move on, even if it were only for a short time. Jake was the perfect fit for what you needed, and you were happy that he was so eager to help.

Time was the only true healer, but Jake was a catalyst to speed the process up, and a very pleasurable one at that.

As the kiss continued, the two of you grew much more comfortable with each other. Your body had relaxed and your hands were more courageous as they travelled over the parts of him you were desperate to know. Your entire body was ablaze with excitement, and your mind was completely free of all the previous fears and feelings you were plagued with. His hand on your hip had drifted to your ass, pulling your hips forward into his as he became familiar with the taste of you on his lips.

If you had any fear about his willingness to sleep with you, it was destroyed within seconds of stepping into his bedroom. You could feel his own excitement, through his actions and other, more obvious signs. As he continued to kiss you, you could feel his erection against your leg, straining against the zipper of his jeans. As much as he wanted to take your mind off of things, you were just as happy to relieve him of the problem you had so easily caused.

When he parted from the kiss, his lips were pink and swollen, glistening with spit under the low light flowing in through his window. His hair was messy from your fingers running through it, and his eyes were darker than they were in the kitchen.

If you thought he was beautiful before, it had nothing on how he looked now.

His hands drifted under the hem of your shirt as he looked over your face, ensuring you were comfortable with continuing. When he was met with pleading eyes and a hopeful expression, his lips quirked up into a smile as he lifted your shirt over your head. As he tossed it to the floor, his gaze traveled downward, allowing himself to admire the parts of you that were usually kept hidden. He sucked in a sharp breath, as if the sight knocked the air from him completely and he was trying to recover from the shock.

“So fucking beautiful, angel.” He hummed, his hands finding you again as he spoke. The feeling of his calloused fingertips against the smooth skin was exhilarating, and even more enticing than anything he’d done before. He dropped his head to the crook of your neck, bringing his lips back to your skin as if he was already missing the feeling of kissing you.

He focused on your neck for a moment, curiously exploring as he tried to find the sweet spots. When his tongue settled below your ear, a whine fell from your lips, so quiet he nearly missed it. The sound reached his ears, sending his skin tingling as it wrapped around his spine and made home there. He kept his attention in the same spot, desperate to hear more. Your hand raised to his arm, holding yourself steady as your stomach swirled with emotion. His mouth continued lower, and courage flooded him as his hands continued to familiarize themselves with you.

He unhooked your bra, brushing the straps from your shoulders as his mouth landed on your collarbone. You felt his teeth graze the skin, the action gentle but purposeful as your bra fell to the ground with your shirt. Now, without anything standing between the two of you, his hand landed on your breast. His thumb drifted over your nipple, moving in a slow circular motion as he felt it harden under his touch. The small sensation only furthered the ache between your legs, and you could feel the wetness begin to soak through the fabric of your underwear.

As he continued his work, you felt your thighs squeeze together in a shameless attempt to ease the discomfort. You didn’t want to rush him, because everything he was doing was phenomenal, but it was growing increasingly difficult to bite your tongue when you so badly needed more from him.

Eventually, his head dropped low enough for his tongue to graze your already sensitive nipple. The warmth of his mouth paired with the precision of his tongue was deadly. You felt a shaky breath rattle your chest as you tried to keep yourself calm, but it was growing increasingly difficult to do so. You needed him more than you needed anything in your entire life; your body craved him in a way you never knew to be possible, and he had promoted more pleasures than anyone before without even needing to take all of your clothes off.

Something about Jake was otherworldly, and his promises to help you forget were not empty. He was doing exactly as he intended, better than you ever thought he could.

He seemed to be enjoying the moment just as much as you were, completely content with pleasing you and never worrying about his own needs. You had never, in your entire life, met someone who was concerned with your needs first.

He pulled his mouth away from you, his eyes fluttering up to your face as he took a few seconds to sort out his thoughts. His eyes were blackened, his pupils completely consuming his irises as he thought about all of the possibilities the night could have.

“Let’s get you out of these,” he muttered, hooking his fingers through the back belt loop on your jeans.

He pulled the fabric away from your skin, letting it snap back to form as he pulled his hand away. The thud of the material against your skin sent another rush of arousal through you, and you found yourself complying to the request without a second thought. He brought one hand to the button, undoing it with ease as he dropped to his knees once again. He pulled down the zipper, tugging on the fabric so they fell down past your hips. As soon as the denim was out of his way, he brought his lips to your stomach, focusing his attention there for a moment before going any further.

You were aching for relief as his tongue drifted over the exposed skin, and you were nearly brought to your knees as he took the time to leave a trail of pink marks where his lips landed. It would be a reminder of the night for days to come, darkening further with time, and you were thrilled at the idea of having a physical memory of his touch when not in his company. He pulled your jeans further down your legs, his lips now ghosting over your hips as he tapped your leg. You lifted one foot from the ground, allowing him to free you from the jeans entirely. You repeated the process with the other leg, and eventually, the jeans were strewn across the floor and gone from your memory completely.

“Jake, I need you.” You huffed, looking down at him, watching carefully where his lips met your skin. He did not respond right away, seemingly wanting to finish what he started before moving on to something new.

Then, his lips pulled away from you, but did not stray too far from their original position. You watched the muscles in his jaw tense as he comprehended the raw emotion behind your words.

“You need me?” He repeated, his voice husky and his eyes heavy as he bargained with the fact.

“Please,” you whispered, breathless as you tried to recover from the constant stimulation he was providing. “So bad, baby.” He drew in a long breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he heard the pet name fall from your lips.

“How could I say no to you when you sound so pretty?” He asked, the question without need of an answer. With that, he used his arm to push you towards the foot of the bed, only stopping when the backs of your knees collided with the mattress.

Then, he rose to his feet, finding himself at eye level with you once again. “What do you want me to do, angel?”

“Anything; just touch me, please.” Your voice was weak, his effect still strong over you even though he wasn’t touching you.

“Anything I want?” He asked, stepping closer and bringing his hand to your side again. He let his fingers trail down until they met the hug of the elastic band of your underwear on your hip. “Are you sure about that?”

“Positive.” You gave a single nod, showcasing your certainty on the matter. He chuckled at your eager nature, looking you over once while he thought of what to do next.

“Lay down for me, sweetheart.” He said, nodding his head towards the bed behind you. “Don’t be shy, get comfortable.” He continued, watching as you turned towards the mattress, unsure if it was possible to climb in and be uncomfortable. The blankets looked soft, and warm, even if they were strewn messily across the surface. The pillows looked like clouds, and there definitely wasn’t a lack of them. More than that, it smelled like him, even from afar. Although you’d only known him for a short time, it had already become a comforting scent for you.

You did as he asked, climbing into the bed and rearranging a few of the pillows. Once you were satisfied, you laid on your back, looking up for him as you awaited further instructions. He gave you a small smile, unable to refute how much he liked the sight of you in his bed, even if it was under strange circumstances.

It was never like Jake to dislike the sight of any girl in his bed, but you seemed to tug on his heart just a little more than others that came before.

“This is a sight I could get used to.” He hummed, adjusting himself in his jeans as he let his eyes trail every bit of exposed skin you had to offer.

“Thought this was a one time thing, Jacob?” He chuckled at your question, unbuttoning the few buttons holding his shirt together. As he slid the fabric from his shoulders, he responded to your inquiries.

“I said if that’s what you want,” he reminded you, dropping the shirt to the floor. Your eyes drifted to his body, drinking in every inch of him. The way the columns of his neck blended perfectly into his collarbones. You studied the structure of his shoulders, focusing intently on his biceps as your eyes trailed down his arms. Then, your gaze moved to his chest, the tan skin decorated with necklaces hanging from his neck. Your admiration ended when your eyes met the buckle of his belt, and you realized he was watching you watch him. “For some reason, I don’t think you’ll be able to stay away.” He sent a wink in your direction to follow his words.

His ego was taking up every spare inch of space in the room, and he was completely different than he was when you were sitting with him in the kitchen. The sweetness still lingered underneath the surface, but his desire had turned him wicked and he was doing everything he could to keep you on his hook. You couldn’t find a single complaint about it, because you loved this version of him even more than the kind hearted man who opened his home and his liquor cabinet to you.

“I think I want another drink,” he started, looking at the bottle decorating his nightstand. His gaze flickered back to you, wanting to ensure you were still watching him. “How about you?” You couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach, wishing that he would just go back to touching you. The banter was fun, and you loved talking to him, but you had needs far more pressing than conversing with him. “Don’t look so disappointed, Angel.” He hummed, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. “I promised to make you feel good, and I’m going to…” he trailed off, popping the cork from the bottle as he kneeled on the bed beside you. “But I have to have my fun, too.”

With that, he brought the spout of the bottle to your navel, carefully letting the trickle of cool liquid fall to your skin. A few droplets trickled down the side of you, landing on the mattress below, but he didn’t care. With great gentleness, he reached out and placed the bottle back on the stand. Without breaking your stare, he settled himself between your legs, his head hovering over your belly as he leaned down a little closer.

With his eyes still settled on your face, he let his tongue glide over your stomach just above your panty line. The skin was already dampened from the spill of liquid from the bottle, cold from the air hitting the wet surface. His tongue warmed the skin, but did much more than just that. The gentleness of his touch cause a plethora of emotions to course through you all at once, and you couldn’t seem to keep your mind straight. The disarray only seemed to worsen as he trailed upwards, drinking up the whiskey like he was a professional on the matter.

When the alcohol was consumed, he did not stop his tyrant. Instead, he continued all the way up until his tongue met your breast once again, circling around your nipple before suctioning his lips to you completely. The warmth and wetness of his mouth was otherworldly, and the new position allowed for his hips to meet yours while he continued teasing you. You shifted down on the mattress, not enough to break his focus, but just enough for your aching core to meet with his cock, strained against his jeans. The contact was minuscule, but enough to elicit a sharp intake of breath from him.

He used his free hand to hold your hips in place, grinding himself down on you ever so slight to give you a bit of relief. The friction was good, even if it wasn’t enough. Paired with the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive nipple, it was enough to pry a moan from your lips.

“Jake, please touch me. Need it so bad.” You whined, feeling your hips raise from the mattress despite his hand holding you down. He pulled his mouth away from you, a small popping sound ringing through the air as he lost the suction of his cheeks.

“You want me to touch you, beautiful?” He asked, shimmying to the side so he could do as you asked. He brought one hand between your legs, resting beside you on his knees as he held himself up with his other arm. His fingers ghosted over the thin fabric covering your aching core, noticing the wetness before he even pushed the fabric to the side. “Fuck,” he hissed, looking down at his hand. “All of this for me, angel?”

“Just for you, baby.” You whimpered, feeling his finger drift over your covered clit. Although you wished that the barrier did not exist, you would settle for what you could get.

“And what’s got you so worked up? It can’t be me, I’m just getting started.” He teased, pushing the fabric to the side. Before he continued, he waited for you to respond.

“It’s you, Jake.” You assured him, almost sheepish of the fact. He was right, he was just getting started, and you were far too worked up for just a few minutes of foreplay. You couldn’t help it, though; between his sinful touches and your own lack of sexual pleasure over the previous few years, you were ready to come undone before he even touched you.

“Don’t tell me he was that bad of a guy.” Jake let out a murmur of discontent at the thought. “Couldn’t think about anything other than himself, even with a girl as pretty as you in his bed?” Your cheeks burned red at his words, embarrassed at the thought of him being correct. “You know I won’t do that to you, angel.” He promised, finally letting his fingers get a feel for the wetness pooling between your legs. “From here on out, it’s all about you. I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. Does that sound good to you?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding in agreement with his idea. To you, it sounded more than good. It sounded fantastic.

With that, he gathered your arousal on his fingers, slowly trailing it up to your clit. He traced slow circles into the already sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your face so he did not miss a single second of your reaction. Your gaze flickered to his face, taking in all of the details while he did the same for you. His brow was furrowed with concentration, and his lips were still slightly swollen from earlier. The muscles in his jaw were tense, and his eyes told you just how happy he was to be pleasing you.

“You know, I was hoping to get you in my bed, even before you sat in that chair.” He confessed, his voice quiet as a sheepish smile crossed his face.

“Y-yeah?” You asked, the word breathy as you felt the pull of pleasure begin to build in the pit of your stomach. You were intrigued by his statement, so much so that it took your mind away from the burning desire for a moment.

“Yeah,” he affirmed, smirking at your obvious curiosity. “Been thinking about it since the first time I saw you at Josh’s house.” He continued, carefully letting himself move closer. He propped himself up on his forearm, moving his body down towards yours. “You walked out, all dolled up in a pretty little dress. Blue, if I remember right. I wasn’t really looking at the dress.”

He was right, and you could remember the scene just as well as him. It was the only blue dress you owned, and you were on your way to lunch with a potential client, which was why you were so eager to get out the door. He was carrying his guitar, in a cutoff t-shirt and jeans that hugged his legs just right. You were both younger, a little more naive and much more childish. You could remember being stunned by his long brown hair, tousled by the wind, and the sunglasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose. He was beautiful then, just the same as he was now, but you were too afraid to introduce yourself. You managed a small greeting as you passed by him, and spent the whole drive to the restaurant with the picture of him stuck in your head.

“Been waiting that long, Jacob?” You asked, finding a bit of strength to tease him back.

“I wouldn’t say waiting,” he chuckled. “But definitely thinking about it. Prettiest girl to ever walk out of his house, and the prettiest girl to ever step foot in mine.” He continued with the flattery, sliding his middle and index finger to your entrance. Before he continued, he slipped his fingers inside of you. As he began to pump his fingers, he let his thumb drift over your clit. The combination of the two sensations was overwhelming in the best possible way. “If I had it my way, I would have fucked you right there on his porch.” The vulgarity of his words may have been off putting in any other context, but as he said it, your walls fluttered around his fingers and another intense wave of arousal washed over you. “And you would have let me, wouldn’t you?”

You were nearly delirious from the pleasure steadily growing in the pit of your stomach. Your skin was ablaze, the sensation growing stronger with every word he spoke and every touch he gave you. You were willing to tell him anything and everything he wanted to hear as long as it meant he wouldn’t stop.

“God, yes. I would have.” You whined, moving your hips down on his hand as his fingers curled upwards, hitting the sweet spot inside of you.

You weren’t lying, either; had you known at that time he could make you feel so good, you would have let him do whatever he wanted to you. At the sound of your tone filled with need for him, he made it a point to curl his fingers upwards again as he pumped them into you. As his fingertips brushed over the sensitive spot he’d found with ease, a moan filled the air, loud and desperate for him to keep going. “Oh, fuck me.” You groaned, gripping at the sheets below you.

“I intend to, sweetheart.” He replied. Although he knew you did not direct the message to him, he felt the need to interject his own thoughts anyway. As the words left his mouth, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. He couldn’t help himself; he was compelled to kiss you, feeling that he might not be able to survive without the taste of you on his tongue.

His fingers continued to move with intent, eager to pry an orgasm from you. The knot in your belly was tightening further by the second, your skin tingling with pleasure as another moan tore through your chest. He drank in the sound like a man dying of thirst, feeling lucky to be the one experiencing such intimacy with you, even if it was under strange circumstances.

He broke from the kiss as he felt your walls clench around him again, knowing that you were closer to a climax than you would ever admit. He increased the pressure of his thumb, watching you carefully so he did not miss the moment he’d been patiently waiting for.

“That’s it, gorgeous.” He crooned, drunk of the pleasure twisted amongst your features. The praise washed over you like summer rain, settling deep in your stomach and furthering the intensity of the feeling. Your brow was furrowed, your eyes squeezed shut and your lips parted ever so slightly, allowing the most beautiful sounds to cross them. “You’re so fucking hot.” He muttered, propping himself up a bit further for a better view. As much as he wanted to focus on your face, he felt his eyes trail down to his hand, unable to resist the only other sight that could compare to your pretty face.

He sucked his bottom teeth between his lips, biting down on it as he watched his fingers disappear into your cunt.

Your eyes cracked open, desperate to catch a glimpse of him before you descended into the organ that was quickly approaching. When you caught sight of his face, you noticed his eyes were not looking at you like they had been moments before. When you followed his gaze, seeing what he was so fixated on, you felt a whole different type of emotion wash over you. He did not notice your stare, too caught up in the sight to even care about anything else. You were enthralled in him, watching him admire you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

You bit down on your lip, feeling the warmth in your stomach begin to spread to the rest of your body. You were so close, so ready to give in to the temptation of the feeling, but you weren’t ready for the moment to come to an end.

Within a second, that train of thought was completely disregarded, unimportant and needless.

A low groan, resembling more like a growl sounded through the room, coming from deep in his chest. His eyes turned dark, almost animalistic as he was taken by his desire for you. It was a simple thing, so unimportant in comparison to everything else he was doing to you, but it was everything to you. To know you could drive such a beautiful man to such desperate feelings made you weak, and knowing he was just as taken by you as you were with him sent you over the edge.

The orgasm that took hold was stronger than any you had ever had before. Your entire body was immersed in euphoria, from the very tips of your toes to the muscles in your face. Not one part of you was spared from his wicked power, and as your legs trembled, you came to terms with the fact he was right; heartbroken or not, you were hooked on him. Walking away would be ridiculous, and coming back for more was a given. You could not comprehend the idea of never feeling such a way again, and that made it all the harder to equate your solution for heartbreak to a single night.

“That’s it, angel. Doing so good for me.” His words seemed far away, but the sentiment behind them stuck with you indefinitely. He continued pumping his fingers into you, coaxing you through the climax with his hand and his words. You had never felt more important, more cared about than you did with him, like your enjoyment was the only thing in the world that mattered.

He pulled his fingers out of you, his gaze flickering to your face as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched as he slipped his middle finger past his lips, glistening with your release as it landed on his tongue and his mouth closed around it. As the taste filled his senses, his eyes fluttered closed and a low groan rattled his chest. Your face flushed, your stomach pulling with another bout of pleasure as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. He pulled his finger from his mouth, a slight popping sound filling your ears as the digit slid off his lips. Your eyes squeezed shut, the sight nearly pornographic, and hotter than anything you had ever witnessed before.

“Taste so fucking sweet, baby. Just like I thought you would.” His words were soft, gentle as they filled the air around you. You couldn’t look at him, fearful that if you caught his eye, you would descend into another orgasm without him even touching you at all.

Your knuckles ached as you released your iron grip on the sheets, your body relaxing against the mattress as you came down from the high. Your lungs ached for a full breath of air, and your skin was still tingling with the ghost of pleasure. You looked down at Jake, expecting him to be watching you, waiting for your next move, but he was doing none of those things. He was tossing his belt to the floor, sliding out of his jeans and boxers at once and tossing them in the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You noticed his frantic nature, taking a second to discard your underwear and toss them to the floor as well. He didn’t say a word, making a move to shift downwards on the mattress. He settled between your legs, his hands on your hips as he pulled you down towards his face.

He guided your legs over his shoulders, settling his palms on the tops of your thighs as his lips dusted light kisses over the inside of them. As you both grew more comfortable with the new position, you felt his confidence grow, too. His teeth grazed over the sensitive skin, his tongue following the path to sooth any irritation that might occur. Goosebumps littered your entire body, and every nerve was aflame with desire for the boy who made home between your legs. You watched him, a wondrous sparkle in your eye as you inspected his every move.

Was it normal for someone to be this attentive, to be so concerned with making you feel good? Had you been missing out on such a fantastic experience, wasting your time with someone who was only concerned with himself? Or was Jake just so phenomenal that he made everything a million times more fun?

You did not know, and you did not care; the only important thing to you was him, and he was doing well in making you forget about all of your other worldly troubles. The only thoughts in your mind were pertaining to him and his ability to please you. He was like poison, infiltrating every thought and every emotion, completely taking over without you even thinking twice about it.

His eyes flickered upwards, meeting yours in a silent inquiry. The trail of love bites on your thigh was darkening by the second, and his gaze was burning into you.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” He ordered, but it was hard to comply to his wishes when it felt like his fingers were searing into your skin.

“I-I just… sex has never been like this before.” You breathed, wondering how he knew something was wrong despite you not saying a word. He was effortlessly in tune with you, feeling every emotion coursing through you as if it were his own. “It’s never been so good, and I’ve never been so… taken care of.” You squeaked out the last few words, embarrassed to admit it to him.

“Oh, don’t tell me that, angel.” He muttered, almost pained at the thought. “If I had known he wasn’t taking care of you, I would have done it myself, a long time ago.” The sincerity in his tone made your head spin, and you were almost regretful that you had been so caught up on a man who wasn’t worth your time, when you could have been spending your time indulging in someone like Jake. “You mean to tell me he wasn’t doing this?” He asked, obviously referring to the act he was about to commit. Your cheeks burned red as you shook your head, silently answering him. “What a fucking idiot.” He muttered, clearly to himself.

Instead of continuing the conversation, he pulled your hips down a little further, letting his actions speak louder than his words. He lowered his head, and you held your breath as his mouth connected with your core. His tongue slowly ran through your folds, starting at your entrance and ending at your clit. He let his focus remain there for a moment, circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as your hands snaked down your body, tangling themselves in the long locks of his hair. Your felt his tongue dip down to your entrance again, flattening against you as he repeated the same process from earlier, savouring every drop of arousal you had to offer him.

As his tongue reached your clit again, he let out a long hum of satisfaction, like the moment had curbed every craving he had for you in an instant. He pulled away from you for a moment, looking up as he listened closely to your shallow breathing. “I could stay between your legs for the rest of my life, and I’d be fucking happy to do it.” He said, his tone gruff as some residual anger remained in his mind. “Now that I’ve had a taste, I don’t think you’ll be able to get rid of me.”

A whimper fell from your lips, completely uncontrollable as you tried to sear the memory of him between your legs into your brain for eternity. He returned his mouth to you, using the sound as encouragement while he continued on with his work.

Jake was a force you were not familiar with, yet you feared you may never fully grasp his power. You met him at the perfect time, and he offered his services when you needed them most. It was supposed to be a quick fix, a simple solution to stop the pain from tearing you in two, but it quickly grew into something much more than that. Now that you had a chance to experience pleasure at his hands, you weren’t ready to give it up.

Calling Jake a rebound would be ridiculous, because he was the furthest thing from it; in just an hour, he gave more to you than your ex did in years.

Like you said earlier, you were mourning the situation more than you were mourning the person or the relationship itself. The picture of betrayal had been seared in your mind, the self-doubt and self-hatred was abundant, and maybe there was a hint of sadness over the loss of routine, but most of your ailments were not caused by the man himself. With Jake’s help, that became incredibly apparent, and the rest of the sadness and anger seemed to fade away the longer his hands were on you.

“A-ah, fuck.” You hissed, your fingers tightening in his hair as an intense wave of pleasure took hold. “Feels so good, Jake.” Instead of pulling away to respond, he hummed against you, the vibration of the sound furthering the sensation he was already giving you. He wanted to hear how good you were feeling, how good he was making you feel. His ego hadn’t gone away, and your compliments only fed it further. You would be uncomfortable with his cockiness if it were not warranted, but from everything he’d done so far, you understood that he was the only man you had been with who had a right to be so self-assured.

His hands inched up your legs, his grip loosening as he moved his fingers. The light tickle sent a shiver down your spine, and your head was spinning as his grasp slowly settled on your hips. His tongue continued to circle around your clit as he pulled you a little further down on his face. A moan filled the air, much more desperate than the last and the vulgarity immediately categorizing it as pornography. You weren’t sure if such a sound ever left your lips before, but you did not have time to focus on the fact before another one followed up the last.

Your cheeks were burning to the touch, your skin blotchy with redness and glistening with sweat. Your hands were anchored in the roots of his hair, and his tongue was driving you so crazy that you couldn’t help the automatic roll of your hips against his tongue. You were bordering the edge once again, and he seemed to have no intent to slow. One of his hands remained on your hip as the other began to explore, dusting over your stomach with great gentleness. It was a staggering difference between the hand on your hip, which was holding you tightly, as if he was scared he would lose you if he let go.

You were lost in the movements of his tongue, no other thoughts existing within your mind as he continued with his precise actions. The warmth of his mouth was heavenly, the wetness of his tongue making every move all the more remarkable. His hand raised to your chest, finally finding what he had been blindly searching for as his palm cupped your breast. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall back onto the pillow as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Then, his fingers found your nipple, brushing over it and sending jolts of pleasure through you. The sensation combined with the feeling of his tongue was indescribable, addicting, and intoxicating. You felt drunk off of him alone, and you never wanted to sober up.

Just when you thought you were accustom to the multiple sensations all at once, he moved his hand, taking your nipple between his thumb and his forefinger and giving one hard pinch. You let out a gasp, your hips bucking forward into his mouth even further. You could see the shake of his shoulders, showcasing his silent laughter at your reaction.

Even if you wanted to be upset at him, you had no idea how to be. Being angry with Jake seemed like an oxymoron, two things that could not coexist together. If anything, all you wanted to do was praise him for all he had done to help you.

He retracted his hand from your chest, snaking it back down your body. He brought it underneath your leg, bringing his middle and ring finger to your entrance. He pushed them inside of you, with the same curl to his fingers as earlier. The added stimulation was heavenly, and a sure apology for his earlier action. He barely had to pump his fingers at all before your back was arching off the mattress, desperate and shameless for more.

“Jake, baby.” You warned, the words coming out hastily and jumbled together. “M’gonna cum.” You forced the rest of the sentence out, the fire in your belly blazing and threatening to take hold.

He hummed against you again, encouraging you to give in and let go. With one last curl of his fingers paired with the flick of his tongue, your second orgasm took over. Your legs trembled with the intensity of the feeling, your hands holding his hair as if you were afraid of floating away if you let go. The air was filled with obscenities, curses and praise for his work as you descended into the pleasure. If his mouth wasn’t occupied, you knew the praises and encouragement would be the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. He coaxed you through the moment, and your heart rate began to slow and your muscles started to relax from the tension.

Difference was, this time he didn’t slow.

His tongue continued to trace your clit with more intent than before, as if he wanted to see how far he could take it before you gave in. At first, the feeling was uncomfortable, but the idea of stopping was more troublesome than the sting of overstimulation. Instinctively, your body tried to pull away from him, but he used his hand on your hip to hold you in place. Your hands remained in his hair, but did not try and pull his head away from you. You wanted him, and the orgasm he had just given you was inexplicably addictive. You wanted to feel that way again so bad that you could spare the few moments of discomfort in exchange for something so fantastic.

The noises falling from your lips had upped in intensity, and definitely felt more dramatic. You were loud enough that you feared the neighbours might hear you had they stepped outside. He was living in the moment, driven near insane from the desperation in your voice. You looked down, and despite your blurred vision, did the best you could to admire him while you had him like such. His hair was a mess, still knotted around your fingers. The muscles in his back were tight, flexing with every move of his arms. His knuckles were locked in place around your hip, decorating it so nicely that you dreaded the moment he had to let go.

Although beautiful, those were not the things that held your attention. Instead, you were drawn in by the sight of his hips grinding into the mattress below. Pleasing you had worked him up so badly that he himself was aching for relief, unable to control how badly he needed to be touched. The thought was maddening, and the sight drove you over the edge.

Before the overstimulation even began to wear off, your body was forced into another climax that put the previous ones to shame. Your throat was raw from crying his name, your entire body aching from the violence of the feeling. For a moment, you thought you might die at the hands of his sin, but not even that thought could force you away from him. Your lungs burned and your head swam with thoughts of nothing and everything, all at once.

You had never felt such a way in your entire existence, and even when your body began to recover from the effects of his tongue, your mind had fallen far behind. You were barely holding on to reality as he finally withdrew his fingers from you, and your head was completely elsewhere when his head moved away, too.

“Could listen to you scream my name like that every fucking night.” He growled, pressing his wet lips to your thighs so he did not have to give up contact with you entirely. “God you’re a fucking masterpiece. Can’t believe it took so long for me to have you like this.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, instead wiping away your release from his chin and moving upwards so he could kiss you. As his hips landed on yours, you felt his cock press against your soaking core, the warmth of bare skin against skin nearly driving you into another orgasm. You were floored at his ability to make you feel good, and amazed that nobody else could make you feel such things. As his tongue glided across yours, you could taste yourself on him, only making the moment even more remarkable. It made him even more addicting, and you were certain you could get used to having him in such a way.

“Just a second, sweetheart.” He slurred, drunk off of you. He pulled away from you, sliding out from between your legs and climbing out of bed. You watched him, breathless and stunned at the picture of him completely naked in front of you. It was the first moment thus far that you had the chance to admire him fully, and you never wanted to stop.

He was painfully hard, the tip of his dick red with irritation from the rough threads of the sheets and glistening with wetness from where he was resting against you. The sight sent you mad, your mouth watering and your need for him growing tenfold. He turned to his bedside table, rummaging around in the drawer in search of a condom. When his fingers landed on the box, stuffed way in the back and hidden under a pile of junk. He looked over at you, smiling shyly as he pulled one from the box.

“Don’t really need these all that often.” He chuckled, an inadvertent way of telling you he was being truthful when he said you were the only one he offered his services to.

“Wait,” you uttered, watching as he raised the package to his mouth to tear it with his teeth. He froze in place, worried that you might have changed your mind.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, ready to discard the foil square in his hand and dress himself if you were uncomfortable. “Do you want to stop, or slow down?”

“No!” You shook your head, feeling bad that the thought even crossed his mind. Instead of letting his anxiety get the best of him, you sat up from your laying position. Carefully, ensuring you had your balance, you shifted so you were resting on your knees, facing him. You looked up, giving a small smile as you beckoned him closer. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but he stepped towards you anyway.

Only when you reached out for him did he understand your intentions. He sucked in a sharp breath, watching as you grabbed his hand and guided him closer to the edge of the bed.

“Tonight is supposed to be about you, angel.” He muttered, a weak protest against your actions.

“I want to, Jake.” You assured him, unable to refute your desire to please him, too. “Please?” You looked up at him, doe-eyed with faux innocence written over your features.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, unable to resist the temptation. “I had no idea you were such a whore.” Even if his words were venomous, his tone did not match. He had such a way with words that even his insults sounded like praise. “Go ahead then, if you want it so fuckin’ bad.”

You debated thanking him for his kindness, but you opted to do it with your actions, instead. You leaned toward, bringing your mouth to him. You parted your lips slightly, letting your tongue glide over the head of his cock. The saltiness of the pre-cum staining his skin lingered on your lips as you took him in your mouth. You bobbed your head down slowly, allowing spit to accumulate on your tongue as you let it glide over the underside of his cock.

As you moved your head down on him, your eyes fluttered closed in concentration. His size was something you weren’t used to, but you had enough confidence to follow through with your efforts. When you felt his tip hit the back of your throat, your eyes watered as you fought back a gag. Desperate to impress, you relaxed your throat as you took him all the way. You felt him twitch in your mouth, letting you know that he was enjoying the moment just as much as you hoped. A string of curses fell from his lips, followed by a long groan. The sound only worsened the persistent ache between your legs, but you carried on, knowing that he would take care of that once you took care of him.

He raised his hand to your hair, gathering it in his hand and holding it away from your face. His eyes were permanently fixated on you, terrified of missing even a second of the view in front of him. You sat there for a moment, allowing yourself to grow comfortable with the feeling before forcing yourself to swallow, despite the momentary discomfort. As your throat constricted around him, he took in a sharp breath, overwhelmed by the sensation. Another groan tried to force it’s way from his chest, but he tried to hold it back, resulting in the sound coming out more similar to a whine.

Even if it was unintentional, it drove you fucking crazy.

You pulled back in one swift motion, inhaling a breath of air as his cock fell from your lips. Trails of spit covered your chin, but it did not phase you. Before he could recover from the loss, your mouth was on him again.

“Ah, fuck, sweetheart.” He growled, his grip in your hair tightening. “Full of fucking surprises tonight.” Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his stare as you bobbed your head down on him. You longed to sear the picture in your mind forever. His hair was disheveled, his jaw-hard set and his eyes crazed as he studied your every move. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you were certain of that. You felt lucky to be able to please him in any way, and grateful to have caught his eye all those years ago.

As you drew your head upward, you let his cock leave your mouth completely, deciding to give him a show. You circled your tongue around his tip, pursing your lips as you placed them on the side of his dick. You pushed your tongue flat against him, suctioning your cheeks just a bit to add some pressure. As you moved your mouth down his cock, you made sure to keep eye contact with him the whole time. When you reached the base, you slowly ran your tongue over him as you brought your head back to the tip. Without breaking the momentum, you took him back in your mouth and bobbed your head back down until his tip hit the back of your throat again.

You started a steady pace, listening intently to every sound that passed his lips. It wear encouraging, and it was hot. If you had to say, it was the most attractive thing you had ever heard. As you felt him slide down your throat again, you let out a moan. The vibration amplified the already intense feeling, causing his head to fall back on his shoulders as he hissed out a long string of curses. You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, desperate for a release but unwilling to give in to it just yet.

In truth, you would not have minded. He had been beyond generous already, and to do him a kindness was the only way you thought fitting to repay him. Even if you would miss out on fucking him, you were happy to be used by him in any way.

As you continued at the same pace, you could feel him begin to lose himself to the pleasure. As your head came down on him, his hips involuntarily moved too meet with you. The constant pressure in the back of your throat was making it difficult to keep calm, but you persevered until he pulled away first. A particularly sharp thrust of his hips sent you over the edge, and the gag you tried so hard to stop finally forced its way out. Your throat constricted around him again and your eyes welled with tears. Hastily, he pulled away from you, his chest heaving as his concerned eyes looked over your face.

“M’sorry, angel. You okay?” He asked, crouching down so he was eye level with you.

“Yeah, I’m good, it’s okay.” You promised, nodding you head. He raised his hand to your cheek, swiping away tears that had fallen from your eyes.

“We can take a break if you need it,” he assured you, holding your gaze. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if I’m going too fast or if it’s too much.”

“I’m okay, I promise.” You gave him a soft smile, well recovered from the moment of slight tension. He watched you for a moment longer, wanting to be certain. When he realized you weren’t going to change your mind, he leaned forward and pulled you into a kiss. The softness of the action was all you needed to feel better again. “Can you fuck me? Please?” You muttered the words against his lips, unable to wait until he was finished to ask the question.

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?” He asked, intrigued by your excitement.

“Yes, please.” You breathed, needing it like you needed air. The desire you had for him was nearly debilitating, and since he’d stopped touching you, there was no relief for the grating need.

“Turn around for me, Angel.” He said, rising to his feet. He was in no position to deny you anything, because he wanted it just as bad.

You did as he asked, noticing he was reaching for the foil wrapper on the nightstand again. You couldn’t comprehend the grief that washed over you as you saw it, and the words rushed out faster than you could stop them.

“I’m on the pill,” you said, hearing him freeze in place. “I’m clean, too.” You were telling the truth, because before him, unprotected sex wasn’t even a thought in your mind. Whatever he had done to you that night seemed to permanently alter your mind, and the simple thought of not having him completely was sickening.

“Me too.” He hummed, almost relieved that you told him. He tossed the condom back on the table, the dull clatter of the impact prompted a smile on your face.

You backed up closer to him, your knees resting near the edge of the mattress and your feet dangling off the edge. He stepped towards you, his hands reaching for your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. His touch drifted over your ass, appreciating you while he had you in such a way.

“You have no fucking idea how good you look like this.” He praised your beauty, his voice deep and laced with desire. One of his hand fell from your hip, and seconds later, you felt his cock rest against your cunt. Slowly, he ran the tip through the wetness that was worsening by the second. “You want it, sweetheart?” The husky tone settled deep in your bones as you dropped to your forearms, bringing your top half lower to the mattress. You pushed your hips back towards him, adding a little more pressure to your clit, which he was resting against.

“So bad, Jake.” You pleaded, looking back over your shoulder at him.

“What was that, Angel?” He asked, sliding himself back down to your entrance. “Couldn’t quite hear you.” There was a smirk on his lips, cute enough to help him get away with the teasing, but irritating enough to bother you.

“Please, baby.” You whined, trying again.

“Please what?” He pressed further, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly. The miniscule change was agonizing, but it still made your head spin. “I want to hear how bad you want me, beautiful.”

“Please fuck me, Jake.” You finished your broken sentence, your tone stronger than it had been all night. “I need to feel you, please.” With that, you pushed your hips back again, testing your limits.

Unlucky for you, at the same time, he thrusted forward with force, causing the impact to be so much more intense.

“A-ah, fuck!” You yelped, the size of him something brand new to you. The way he filled you was enough to bring you to your knees, but the painful sensation of his cock hitting your cervix amplified the pleasure even further.

“There you go, baby.” He crooned, completely disregarding your response as he drew his hips back and slammed back into you with the same energy. “How does that feel?” The slight sneer in his tone was aggravating, but you had to admit that it looked really good on him. The sudden change in attitude made you realize that what had come before that moment was not typical for Jake. He was snarky, arrogant, and he liked to be in charge. You could tell by his fingers bruising your hips and his tone talking down to you.

Although you thoroughly enjoyed the time you already spent with Jake, it almost made you sad when you realized what exactly you missed out on.

As you were stuck on the thought, you felt a sharp sting across your ass. The sensation on your skin combined with the pleasure of him inside of you, making you quiver under the touch. “Answer me when I fucking speak.” He barked, letting his fingers gently caressed the reddening skin where his hand made contact. You weren’t sure if it was purposeful or absentminded, but the sweet touch after the harsh words felt good, reassuring that he was only putting on an act.

Then, you decided if he wanted to push you, you could do the same to him. The worst that could happen was a punishment, and the idea of punishment at Jake’s hands was nothing but thrilling.

“Feels so good, sir.” You exaggerated your tone in hopes of getting under his skin, but the term of endearment seemed to short circuit his brain. His hips stuttered and his hands tightened their grip.

“Such a fucking whore,” he spat, his words quiet as he regained his composure. Even if his words were harsh, you could tell by his voice alone how much he enjoyed your attitude. “I love it.” He muttered the words to himself, but you heard it despite his efforts to keep it to himself. He felt your walls flutter around him, drawing him in further and deeper, encouraging his antics even further.

One of his hands raised to your hair, gathering it in his fist and knotting it around his hand. He tightened his hold, pulling your head back ever so slightly as his hips continued at the same, bruising pace. You arched your back even further, your chest nearly brushing against the mattress now as your ass raised to meet his hips.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed, holding your hips as he upped the strength in which he was thrusting into you. “Take it so fucking good.”

The knot in your belly was tightening further by the second, threatening to snap with every move. You were crying his name, praising him for his hard work as he pushed you closer to a climax. You were sure his bedroom would never recover from the pornographic display the two of you found yourselves in, and the thought served as a comfort. You wanted him to think about you every time his bedroom door closed, remembering how you looked in his bed as he fucked you from behind. You wanted him to picture the way your ass met his hips every time he closed his eyes, and you never wanted him to forget the feeling of you wrapped around him.

Although he intended to solve your problems, you wanted to create a new, constant one for him; one that plagued him every night and haunting him during the day. You wanted Jake to succumb to the need of you, and you wanted your number to be a constant call in his phone, begging you to come over so he could curb the urge for a little while. You wanted to infiltrate every thought that crossed his mind, because you could not stand the idea of him giving this to anyone else.

“You want to cum already?” He asked, recognizing the tremble of your legs and the desperation of your high-pitched moans. “So fucking needy you can’t even enjoy it for a while?” He chastised you, but both of you knew there was zero malice behind his behavior. He was living for the way you moved against him, surviving off the sound of your pleasure. He was thrilled to drive you to such a state so easily, and he would give you whatever you wanted, so long as you asked nicely.

“Please, sir. I want it so bad. I need it.” You stressed the importance of the topic, feeling the burn begin to overtake your entire body. The urge was impossible to stave off, and you knew there was no use in trying. After all he’d done to you so far, you were long past self-control.

“Fine, but you better not hold back. I want to hear every one of those filthy fucking noises.” He growled, pulling your head back with a little bit of force. “Put on a good show, sweetheart, or I might not be so nice next time.” He warned, holding your head in place with one hand and your hip with his other. He pulled you back on him, making the impact even more powerful. The painful pleasure pulsed through your entire body, so intense that you could feel it behind your eyes. With every thrust of his hips, you grew closer to the release you so desperately needed.

In exchange for him giving you what you needed, you gave him exactly what he asked for.

“Oh, god, Jake.” You whined, upping the dramatics for the sake of his request. “You feel so good, baby. Please don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling your head spin with the threat of your climax. You could hear his shaky breaths, the sound of your words hitting him harder than he anticipated. His hips remained steady, though, never faltering as he continued on exactly as you asked him to.

“Come on, angel.” He huffed, looking down at the curve of your ass, watching himself as he fucked into you. The permissive statement sent you spiralling, pushing you over the edge with little thought.

“Fuck, Jake.” You groaned, feeling your stomach burn with pleasure. Your hands were balled into fists, knuckles white as you gripped the sheets. Your arms and legs felt like they would give out from under you as they trembled. Jake seemed to notice the same thing, and the hand holding your hip slipped under you, holding you up so you did not have to worry about anything other than feeling good.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my girl.” He crooned, never letting up on his pace as he continued to fuck you through the climax. Even as you came down, your body did not relax. Your skin was ablaze and your forehead was glistening with sweat. You were tired, and the feeling of him inside of you became less pleasant and more intense as he continued to thrust into you. Your noises became less angelic and more desperate, as if they served as a warning for him to slow down. Overstimulation was threatening your exhausted mind, driving you closer to insanity by the second as the burn of irritation began to spread.

“Jake,” You wheezed his name out, trying to bargain with him as he increased the speed of his hips. “Jake, please.” You pleaded, now for an entirely different reason.

“What, you wanted it so bad and now you can’t take it?” He growled, his hips still moving at a relentless pace. “You can take it sweetheart, I know you can. Be good for me, baby. Just a little longer.”

“I don’t know if I can.” You cried, your throat raw from the desperation of your moans. Both of you knew he would stop if you really needed it, but he would be damned if he gave up before you truly needed him to.

“You can, beautiful. Being so good for me.” He rushed out, clearly growing close to his own climax. “Don’t you love being a good girl for me?” He asked, easing up on you ever so slightly.

“I do,” you whimpered, feeling his hand in your hair push your head towards the mattress. The strength of his thrusts had lessened, and the overwhelming sensation started to become pleasurable again. “I love it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He whispered, desperation beginning to set in for him, too. He loosened his hold around your hips, knowing you were much steadier, now. He moved his hand between your legs, his middle finger finding your clit with ease. “Just a little while longer, baby. I’m not done with you yet.”

“Oh, fuck.” You groaned, his words giving you the strength to keep going. You clenched around him, amplifying the sensation for both of you as his finger continued to trace around your clit.

“So fucking tight.” He praised, saying it mostly to himself. “Give me one more angel. I know you have it in you.” He was right, the orgasm was already building at a rapid pace. You could feel the tingle of euphoria in the tips of your fingers and toes. You were too strung out on him to answer, but he knew that you would give him what he wanted.

Nobody in their right mind would ever deny Jake anything he asked for, anyway.

“Jake, fuck, m’gonna cum.” You rushed out, the urgency something you had never experienced before in your life. He let out a low chuckle at your state despite feeling the same desperation.

“That’s my girl.” He said again, the statement still hitting as hard as it did the first time he said it. With one last thrust of his hips, you came undone, all of the pleasure from the night coming to one final climax.

Your mind was blank, no thoughts or worries left to bother you. You wanted to scream his name, but nothing was coming out. Your chest ached and your lungs were in dire need of air, but you could not even seem to do something as simple as breathing. Jakes hand pushed your head further into the mattress, your cheek pressed against the soft fabric of the sheets as he started to lose his composure, too. His movements were sloppy, his hips stuttering every time he fucked into you. The finger that was once tracing perfect circles on your clit seemed to forget how to do so, and he had his turn to utter profanities that only solidified the moment in your minds forever.

His grip on your hair loosened as he reached his peak, spilling his release inside you as his hips began to slow. He used his arm to pull you back on him one last time, holding you there while he recovered from the intensity of the moment. He let out a long breath, looking down once more where his hips rested against yours. He drew back, slowly thrusting forward a few more times as he fucked his release back into you. A low growl sounded from his chest, the sight alone nearly working him up all over again.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked, his loving and catering tone returning as he withdrew from you completely.

“Yeah, m’okay.” You nodded, feeling the pressure in your skull lessen as he loosened his hold on your hair. “Fantastic, actually.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, excited at the idea. “You feel better?”

“Jake, you have no idea.” You breathed, slowly moving from your position. You were sore, tired, but you felt better than you ever had. “I don’t think I’ve ever… no, I’ve never had sex like that.” You confessed, rolling on to your back to let your body rest for a moment.

“I’m glad I could help, beautiful.” He said, laying down beside you. “Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll clean it up later.” He said, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, his skin warm and soothing as the sound of his heartbeat thudded in your ears.

“I should probably call a cab, get back to Josh’s place before the bar rush starts.” You sighed, saddened by the thought alone. You wished to stay wrapped up in Jake’s arms for the rest of the night, even if you knew you shouldn’t. You were going through a breakup, and dating was not on the table (or shouldn’t be, at least), but there was something special about Jake, something so different that it made it impossible to want to walk away from him.

“Are you crazy?” He scoffed, his tone light as he looked down at you.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head up as you awaited an answer.

“Like I’d ever make you take a cab.” He rolled his eyes. “But, you’re not going back to Josh’s place, sweetheart.”

“What if I want to?” You shot back.

“Do you?” He asked, seemingly staring into your soul. You bit the inside of your lip, fighting back a smile as you gave a small shake of your head. “Didn’t think so. I’ll just tell him we drank a little too much and you crashed in the spare room.” Your stomach sank at the thought of a spare room, but he could see it in your eyes before you had the chance to address it. “You’re not actually staying in the spare room, gorgeous.”

“Okay, good.” You breathed, chuckling at your own stupidity. “‘Cause I’d much rather stay here, with you.”

“That was never even a question.” He assured you, letting his fingers gently trail over your back. The light tickle was addicting, comforting and soft. It was exactly what you needed after such a high energy evening. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.” He said the second part, quieter this time, but you could still sense the truth behind his words.

“No?” You giggled, smiling up at his pretty face.

“Mmm,” he hummed to himself, the sound vibrating his chest. He seemed like he was thinking about all of the possibilities the night held, everything he could do with you (or to you, for that matter), and more importantly, what positions he could put you in. “No, definitely not.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You let out a sigh of content, already dreaming of the same things. A silence fell between you for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. With Jake, it never was. After a while, you felt the urge to speak again, to show your gratitude for his kindness. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.” You whispered. “It really helped.” His lips quirked into a smile as he pulled you closer to him. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m glad I could help, sweetheart.” He muttered, his lips still pressed against your hair. “And please, if you ever need help forgetting about anything at all, just give me a call. I’d love to help you out.”

[gretavanmoon]

S A L T Y

Jake x female reader

4.8k words

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

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

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

+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Swear.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+

xoxoxo Jules

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

[gretavanlace]

Softer, Softest

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: sexual content, language, slight angst, penetration, cockwarming, etc

Okay, the quickest of blurbs (under 1k) because I have neglected my josh lane lovelies so, so terribly. I received a request for bad day/comfort josh but now I can’t find the ask. Did I answer it and forget? Perhaps. Who knows? Anyway, this is just a fast fix, but I promise a full length josh fic is right around the corner ❤️

Josh is lounging across the living room couch, battered paperback in hand, when you push open the front door with a clattering of keys and the thunk of your bag hitting the floor.

”Stay there.” You implore, when he moves to stand in greeting. Just the sight of his face, so beautiful and bright-white love, has tears threatening in your eyes.

He notices right away, and his own eyes turn wide with concern, “What is it, dove? What happened?”

”Nothing.” You shake your head adamantly as you kick off your heels, leaving them where they don’t belong in a way you normally never would, “Nothing I want to talk about, anyway. I just had a shitty day, and I missed you.”

”C’mere, baby…” his voice is soothing, lulling you like a melody as he pats his thigh, “Come sit.”

Hiking your pencil skirt up enough to straddle his lap, you settle in against him with a sigh of content. He is warm, and he is home.

His palm strokes up and down your back, wrinkling the silk of your shirt under its weight, “I’m sorry you had a bad day. How can I help? Are you hungry? I could make you something. Or draw a bath with those salts you like, read to you?”

You shake your head against his shoulder with a heavy sigh, “No. This. I want this.”

”Alright,” you can hear the soft smile in his tone, he is pleased to be what you want in your moment of struggle, no matter how small.

Fingers crawling upward, he squeezes at the clip tucked into your hair and releases it, then scratches lightly at your scalp to give you a shiver.

”That feels nice.” You murmur, nuzzling into his neck until he is all you can smell.

”Here,” he whispers, gently nudging your shoulders, “sit up a little.”

You do as he says and study his lovely face as he concentrates on working the buttons of your shirt before pushing it off of you. Next pop the clasps of your bra, and the bliss of being free of it sends another delicate shiver undulating up your spine.

“There we go, dove.” He pets at your hair again and then pulls you back in, blunt nails lazily tracing your back until you feel like glittering liquid in his embrace.

”Thank you, Josh.” Your lips brush against his soft skin as you speak, “I’m sorry.”

”What are you sorry for?” He asks, matching your quiet as his hands continue to coddle you.

”For being a baby.”

”You are a baby,” he reminds you, words filled right up with love. “You’re my baby.”

Suddenly, your heart feels too big for your chest. How did you ever get so lucky? Do you even deserve him? Certainly not…no one does. “I love you. I love you so much. I just want to disappear inside you and live there forever.”

He laughs at this, that tiny giggle that melts you right down to your toes every time it peeks out, “Isn’t it usually the other way around? Me disappearing inside you?”

You giggle to match him, “Classy, Joshua.”

”I am but a caveman,” his fingers swirl circles into the dimples of your lower back, “a disgusting specimen of the lesser species.”

Another laugh flits off your tongue. You know he is trying to cheer you up, and as always…it’s working. “You are no such thing. You’re so good to me.”

A comfortable silence creeps in, but your mind is working overtime. His comment, me disappearing inside you, playing on an endless loop until you can’t stand it any longer.

”Hey,” your voice is meek, timid and unsure, as you toy nervously with the mala beads looped around his neck.

”Hmm?” He pecks a tender kiss into your hair.

”Am I really your baby?” Why do you feel so shy about this? Normally you’re adventurous and even more outgoing than he is, which is really saying something. But right now you feel…inexplicably bashful.

“Of course you’re my baby,” his lips are pressing kisses against your head again as he audibly breathes in the scent of your hair.

“Can you…” you twist those cool, smooth beads around in your fist idly, “I want…”

”You want what, dove?” He soothes your nerves with that loving lilt laced through his tone, “Tell me. I’ll make it happen. I’ll give it to you.”

”I want to be closer to you,” your words breathe into his ear just before your teeth sink gently into his silken lobe.

He knows. He somehow always knows.

“Lift up, baby bird.” His voice, rasping with subdued lust and stark devotion, needles at your heart until your head swims.

You rise up on your knees and watch on as he tugs your skirt up even higher and then pulls at the waistband of his pants.

You lovingly tease him about these khakis and their elastic waist. You call them his ‘dad pants’ just to watch him become uncharacteristically crass and grab his crotch with a ‘I’ve got your daddy right here, dove’. But right now? Right now you’re more than grateful for the lack of buttons and zippers for him to contend with.

With your gaze fixed on his gorgeous cock, he sweeps your panties to the side and eases you down onto it. Hissing as the heat of your cunt envelopes him.

”Is that better, baby?” He asks shakily, once you’re seated in his lap, filled up tight and snug with him.

“Much.”

You relax fully in his arms and it tugs at his heart-strings, making him even more completely fucking gone for you. He would set this whole world on fire if you felt even a little bit chilly.

A haunting, calming song begins to hum out of him, the vibration of it purring from his chest and straight into your heart.

”You sound so pretty,” you praise, cheek pressed just beneath his throat until the weight of the world seems to lift away and disappear.

”And you feel so pretty, dove.” He’s lightly scratching your back again, coddling you into a haze. “Softer than satin absolutely everywhere. Inside and out. Soft here,” the back of his hand brushes down your arm, “softer here,” his thumb kisses your lips, “softest here.” His hips lift ever so lightly.

Without waiting for a response, he begins humming to you again…guiding you gingerly into sleep while he rests, safely nestled inside you.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama @alwaysonthemend

[gretavangroupie]

Recommendations

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

Jake:

Green Eyed Monster - @builtbybrokenbells

Covet - @jakeyt

Le Morte d'Arthur - @joshym

Until This Is Over - @abeautylives

Cream & Sugar - @sacredthefran

Melodic Memories - @builtbybrokenbells

Come Over - @milkgemini

Valence - @gretavanfleetposts

Imperfect Moments - @abeautylives

Disgrace - @gretavanfleetposts

Lost Boys - @tlexx

The Vanishing - @fleet-of-fiction

Amongst The Wildflowers - @jakeysfallingsky

The Lovers - @age-of-greta

Behind Closed Doors - @anthemofgvf

Decorum and Refinement - @gretavanlace

Rotten Apple - @builtbybrokenbells

Pictures of Time - @farfromthehomelands

Capital Vices - @builtbybrokenbells

Anything for You - @themoreyou-love

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

Bound - @gvfgal

Best Laid Plans - @writingcold

Josh:

It's Never Over - @builtbybrokenbells

Eternal - @readyforthegarden

Honey - @caravelmp3

Endless Summer - @anthemofgvf

Troubled Mind - @britney-gvf

Trip Around the Sun - @abeautylives

The Sex Scene - @fleet-of-fiction

Sam:

Picasso - @builtbybrokenbells

The Moon - @age-of-greta

Karma Sutra - @obetrolncocktails

Pink Lemonade - @garbagevanfleet

Daniel:

Belladonna - @builtbybrokenbells

Emerald Green - @hearts-hunger

Too Late to Go Back - @stardustndreamsofsilver

Four Weddings and A Funeral - @hearts-hunger

Guilty Pleasures - @builtbybrokenbells

Illicit Affairs - @aflame4goinghome

Forbidden Twins:

Cruel Summer - @sacredstarcatcher

Gold Dust Woman - @builtbybrokenbells

[builtbykittie]

Sweet dreams & Good mornings

J.m.k x f!reader

Summary: you wake up hot from a dream about your boyfriend, come to find out the same thing happened to him.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, fingering, handjob, usage of 'mama'...

Words: roughly 1.3k

A/N: very short one for this month as this was kinda last minute... Enjoy!

You turn on your side in your sleep, wrapped up in your dream - the sinful way Josh is fucking you with his fingers. His thumb flicks over your clit again and again as his middle and ring fingers ram into you at the same pace. You're grasping onto his forearm and crying his name. Meanwhile, your hand falls into place somewhere on Josh's body, and your new position allows the beams of sunlight glaring through the cracks of the curtains to wake you.

Just as you're about to reach the edge, you're taken out of it. You groan and flex your fingers against the fabric of Josh's boxers, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion at what you're touching as your eyes start to flutter open.

With heavy lidded eyes, you look up to find josh awake. His brows are knitted together and his adams apple bobs up as he swallows his saliva, his breathing slightly ragged. This only adds to your confusion, until you realize.

You flex your fingers against him once more, that hardness beneath your hand can only be one thing. You glance down to where your hand is on his hard cock, a flush quickly covers every inch of your skin and you move your hand from him, muttering a quiet 'sorry'.

He looks down at you with a somewhat smug grin, grabbing your hand that was on him and bringing it up to his lips, kissing you softly before entwining your fingers with his and placing a kiss to your forehead. "Had a nice dream?"

You smile at his affection, feeling your core start to ache as you recall your dream. You lean in and his his neck, humming out an 'mhm' against his warm skin.

"Yeah, sounded like you were enjoying it," he squeezes your hand. You can't see him, but you can hear the smirk in his voice, causing you to pause for a moment. This wouldn't be the first time you've made noises in your sleep, but it's just as embarrassing. "Oh my god.. josh! " He mocks you.

"oh god," you whine, burying your head into the crook of his neck. "I highly doubt I sounded like that."

He chuckles, bringing your hand to his abdomen. His free hand finds your hair, gently grabbing some at the back of your head and pulling so that you're looking at him. "What was I doing?"

You swallow back your saliva, feeling like a deer in headlights as you look at him. He's wearing that same smug smirk as he nods, silently telling you to get on with it. "Um," you mutter "you were.. touching me.."

His grin grows "yeah?"

You frantically nod, your breath picking up as he continues to inch your hand further down his abdomen, the tips of your fingers reaching his bulge.

"I had a dream about you," he leans in to kiss behind your ear before his hand in your hair moves to wrap around your waist, pulling you to sit up. Finally, he brings your hand down to cup his incredibly hard cock, and you almost feel bad for him as you feel the way he's strained against his boxers.

"Feel that?" he groans, leaning in to place wet kisses to your neck as he pushes your hand against him. You let out a soft, breathy noise and nod, your head lulling to the side to grant him more access to your neck. "You know how bad I just wanted to wake you up and fuck you? Your pretty little moans.. fuck. You're like torture to me..."

His free hand starts to slowly inch down your body, his calloused fingers dragging down your tummy and dancing along the waistband of your sleep shorts. "Josh..." You whisper, putting pressure on his cock.

He groans into your ear at the feeling, letting go of your hand to grab at the bedsheet. "Fuck, you're so hot, mama," he whispers, his fingertips dipping past your waistband. "Need you.."

You practically moan at his words, starting to drag your fingers along his length through the fabric. "Please.. please, josh.. touch me," you whine.

He lets out a breathy chuckle against the hot surface of your neck, the tips of his fingers inching closer to your aching clit.

A wave of electricity flows through your body as he presses down on your clit with his calloused fingertips, and you can feel his practically taunting smile against your neck. Slowly, he starts to draw slow circles over your clit, desperate moans starting to escape your throat at the contact.

Your hand moves up to his waistband, pushing it down past his cock, his length springing free. You waste no time taking him in your hand, squeezing him and feeling every vein as you start to stroke him at an almost painfully slow pace.

"was I touching you..." His fingers speed up and he presses down harder on your clit "like this?"

You throw your head back on his shoulder and a loud, desperate cry slips past your lips, involuntarily tugging at his cock as you arch your back into his touch. "That- ah.. feels so good.. but.. no," you giggle - if you can even call it that. It was more of a breathy moan than anything.

With your free hand, you reach down and grab his, stopping his movement to guide his fingers down to your entrance. "Like this..." You moan as his rough fingertips start to prod at your entrance, your hand tightening around him and your movements speeding up.

You mewl as his fingers slip inside of you, curling them up into you. "And.." you struggle to get words out through pants and gasps. "Like.. this.." grabbing his thumb, you move it to the sensitive bundle of nerves.

He wastes no time circling it around your clit and drawing out strings of moans and profanities. "Fuck, mama. Just like that.. shit," Josh groans into your ear, bucking his hips up on your hand again and again until his thighs and hips are trembling.

"Oh god- josh.." you whine, pumping harder and faster as his fingers dance deliciously inside of you and against every sweet spot. You lull your head to the side, catching his attention and taking his lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss.

Josh's hips tremble as he desperately bucks up into your hand, soft whines and groans escaping his throat and into your mouth. You writhe beside him, the movements of your hips matching his as loud strings of curses and whines and calls of his name fly past your lips. You know neither of you are gonna last much longer.

"ffuck," Josh groans, throwing his head back. You take the opportunity to attack his neck with kisses and nips as you relentlessly stroke him, determined to get him off. Meanwhile, his hand is working you so perfectly, making you squirm and cry out with every pump of his fingers and circle of his thumb.

You feel that familiar feeling of your muscles tightening, the fire in your stomach roaring wildly. Josh's movements and the way he's moaning tells you he's right there with you. You let go of him for a moment to spit on your hand. He whines at the loss of contact, but you instantly return it to his throbbing, angry cock. You stroke him at a pace you didn't know you could even move, but your mind starts to blur as his fingers draw you closer to your orgasm.

"Josh, baby, I'm gonna-" you cry, pushing your hips down harder onto his fingers as his hips buck up into your hand. All he can get out is a pathetic groan and slight nod.

With one more curl of Josh's fingers and tug of your hand, both you and Josh are crying out and writhing underneath each other's touch. Your bodies move almost in synchrony, painting such a filthy picture.

The air is filled with pants and soft whimpers as the two of you ride out your highs on each other's fingers, your orgasm completely taking control of you.

You suck in a hiss as he pulls his fingers from you, watching as he takes them into his mouth and licks them clean before taking your lips in a passionate kiss, making you taste yourself.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders and his arms find your waist, pulling you close to him. You kiss his neck and just like that, his body lulls you back to sleep.

[moonlightisdancing]

Grapefruit Juice/j.m.k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x f!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI 18+ jealousy, mutual masturbation, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom josh/sub reader, food play, a little bit of discipline & cockwarming if you squint, mocking/teasing, praisepraisepraise

as always pls lmk if any tags are missed

a/n: this one’s been brewing since this picture dropped… sorry to keep it for so long…

——————🧡——————

“I don’t like that you do that.” You huff, throwing yourself into a chair opposite of where Josh’s sitting.

“What’s the matter? Jealous?” He smirks, stretching his arm across the back of the couch.

“No! Just- what if you get sick or something? It’s not always about jealousy, Josh.”

“Seems to me like you’re pretty jealous. Maybe I should bring one of those girls back here instead.”

“What do you mean?” You know what he means, you were more giving him a chance to fix his statement than you were asking for clarification.

“I mean I came back here, ready to fuck my girl after a long show, and she’s bitching because I kissed a couple fans. But those fans,” He leans forward while waving his hand towards the door of the green room. “They’d be glad to watch me touch myself, let alone be the one doing it.”

“Then do it.” If he wants to play games, you’ll play, too. You knew he wouldn’t actually bring someone backstage, especially for sex, it was more risky than a kiss. Josh sighs and stands from the couch before making his way to the door.

“Yeah? And make you watch?” A tinge of jealousy resurfaces as you watch him slowly wrap his fingers around the door handle. He looks back at you, almost waiting for you to protest his actions, but you don’t. No matter how much jealousy boils inside, you won’t let him win. Gripping the arm rests with your hands, you begin pushing yourself out of the chair.

“Aht, sit and stay.” Josh glares at you with a hint of annoyance, his coffee brown eyes warning you to obey him.

The worst part is you did obey him.

Sitting and wallowing in your shame, you wait for what feels like forever before Josh returns. His presence lingers behind the door, his voice low as he speaks to someone. When a female voice responds, all sense of security is ripped from you. The door handle rustles before finally opening, Josh peeking his head through the gap.

“Look at you, all obedient and shit,” He quips, staring deep into your soul as he brings the rest of his body inside the room, shutting the door behind him. He changed and returned with… A grapefruit? Josh is wearing his usual outfit, those damned khaki pants and a white t-shirt he somehow always kept white. He barely removed his makeup, remnants of black eyeliner smeared across his lower lash line. Your eyes can’t stop watching as he tosses the grapefruit in his hand, effortlessly catching it each time.

Josh makes his way to the couch in silence, leaning back into the cushions as he continues staring at you. He was playing a game, granted you weren’t sure what kind. Josh digs his thumbs into the top of the grapefruit, and just when you think he’d start peeling it, he turns it around and presses his thumbs into the other side. You inch yourself forward on the chair, trying your best to understand what the hell he’s doing. While he continues with the silence, working his fingers into the fruit, you decide to keep the game going.

“So where’s the lucky girl?” You chide, and disregarding the length of your skirt you cross one leg over the other. Josh’s eyes can’t help but meet your lace covered core as you catch him biting his lip.

“Oh, she’s right in front of me,” He sighs, licking the grapefruit juice off his thumbs before adjusting himself on the couch. “Except I wouldn’t call her lucky.”

The sight of his thumbs tucked between his pretty lips drives you mad. Oh how you wish it was your mouth he shoved his fingers into until you gagged on the flavor.

“Yeah? And why is that?”

“Because you’re not allowed to touch me, only watch.” His free hand reaches down and begins undoing the zipper and button to his pants, he isn’t wearing underwear allowing his thick cock to be instantly on display. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, and quickly fall at the remembrance of his words.

Not allowed to touch.

But you were instructed to watch, so you do. Your eyes fix on his hands fiddling the grapefruit and only then did you put the pieces together. Josh’s left hand slowly inches down his torso until his cock is settled in his palm, his right hand bringing the grapefruit to his tip. Josh winces at the feeling of the cold citrusy juice dripping down his length onto his pelvis. All you want is to lick him clean as the juice continues spilling onto his tan skin. Each painfully slow flick of his wrist makes more of a mess both of him and you, a warm slick pooling at your core. Desperate for any sort of contact, you squeeze your crossed legs tighter together and roll your hips.

“Shame you’ve been such a brat, wish your pussy was making a mess instead…” Josh furrows his brows as he works the deep pink fruity flesh over his shaft, careful not to make too much of a mess on the white couch below him.

“Please?” You desperately whine at the thought of him inside of you.

“I don’t think so. Sit back for me, mamas.” He gestures with his left hand, his right still slowly working the grapefruit over his cock. You follow his instructions, uncrossing your legs to sit back against the chair.

“Go ahead, touch yourself for me.” Josh instructs, his pace growing slower.

You reach your hands down and pull your panties to the side, running your fingers through your velvety folds. He hums in approval as you begin working your fingers over your bud. Having him so close yet so far away is punishment in and of itself, but your inability to get off on your own is just as bad. You watch his cock stretch the grapefruit, fucking the insides into a pulpy mess only wishing that were you. In a desperate attempt to feel any semblance of him inside, you dip two fingers into your throbbing cunt, trying to curl them the way he does. Josh raises his eyebrows and watches you in amusement, shaking his head back and forth.

“Josh…” You mewled, eyes silently begging him for more.

“You make it so hard to be mad at you,” He sighs again and stops jerking himself off, calling you over with two fingers.

You lower your legs to the ground before bringing yourself to the edge of the chair and ultimately to your knees, crawling across the floor until you kneeled between his legs. Waiting for instructions, your eyes remain fixed on the grapefruit resting at the base of his cock. Josh slowly works the citrus up his length again, hissing at the feeling as it engulfed his tip, popping off the top with a lewd sound that echoes against the walls.

“See that?” He asks in a deep, sultry voice, gesturing to the fruit induced mess at the base of his cock.

“Mhm...” You hum and nod.

“Clean it up.”

You begin reaching your hand up, and when your fingers barely wrap around his shaft, he slaps your hand and grabs your wrist.

“Did I tell you to touch me?” He scoffs, tossing your arm to the ground.

“Well, how am I-”

“How am I?” He mocks, a smirk forming at the corners of his lips. “You’re allowed to use your tongue, that’s it. Now clean it up.”

With the sting of his touch fresh on your hand, you’re much more mindful of where your hands rest as you begin licking his skin clean. You aren’t typically one for grapefruit, but Josh makes it your favorite flavor. You lap at and slurp the tangy juice and pulp, dragging your tongue across every inch of his pelvis and cock until nothing remains on his skin. Josh nods as you hover your mouth over his leaking tip, giving you permission to feed his shaft into your mouth.

You are careful, mindful and gentle with each passing of your tongue over his delicate skin, grateful he’s allowing you to touch him so much. Hesitantly, you bring one hand up and press it against his balls, softly rolling them in your palm. It’s not long before precum leaks from his tip, quickly followed by his hot release as he begins fucking your throat. Stinging in the back of your throat is present accompanied by tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as his cum spills down your throat.

“Such a good girl, swallow for me.” He encourages.

At the conclusion of your task, Josh brings his hand to cradle your face, wiping your tears before trailing his thumb down to trace your bottom lip.

“You want a treat?” Josh asks almost condescendingly, but you know he means well.

You nod your head yes and his other hand meets your lips with a wedge of grapefruit tucked between his thumb and index, gently pushing the sticky fruit into your mouth. Josh continues pushing pieces of tangy goodness onto your tongue, praising you when each piece was swallowed.

“So pretty when your mouth’s full, mamas.”

“Thank you,” You blush, turning into his palm. It’s amazing how even in these moments he remains sweet as can be.

“C’mere,” Josh helps you to your feet, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs to guide you over his waist. His fingertips knead your skin, lips working over the bit of cleavage your tank top allows. Josh’s hands inch up until they meet your panties, tugging them to the side with fervor. He reaches his hand further between your thighs until ultimately giving you what you want, his fingers buried deep inside. You fight the urge to grasp onto his shoulders as you follow his instructions, instead digging your nails into your own thighs.

Not allowed to touch.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.” Josh’s breath hitches in his throat as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. The only thing you want more in this moment is to sink down onto his length and feel him the closest way you can. Sensing your desire, he removes his fingers and places his hands on your hips, pushing you down onto his cock. Still unsure if you can touch him, you grip the edges of your skirt instead, your knuckles turning white with pleasure.

Josh holds you down on his cock as he begins kissing up your neck, sending chill bumps across your skin and drawing a whine from your lips. You could feel the heat creeping across your chest and cheeks as his teeth grazed your earlobe.

“You can touch me now,” Josh mumbled into your skin. It’s a matter of seconds before your fingers find themselves tangled in his hair, tugging handfuls at the base as he gently starts to fuck into your aching pussy.

Josh’s hands travel from your hips to laying flat across your back before he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. Each thrust is intentional and melodic in its own way, the unusual angle hitting new spots neither of you knew about. Josh’s forehead becomes coated in a thin sheen of sweat pressed against your chest as his lips leave marks across your breasts.

Your head falls forward, cheek resting against Josh’s curly mess of hair as your arms wrap around his head and neck. The two of you find a rhythm that works, switching between lifting your hips and slamming them down to match his movements and grinding your clit against his pelvis. You pull his hair enough to bring his head back, exposing his lips to the cool air of the room. His chin is wet in a delicious combination of sweat and saliva from the open mouth kissing across your breasts, but that doesn’t stop you from pressing your lips against his to taste him. He tastes sweet, salty and desperate in all of the right ways.

Passion and pleasure washes the two of you as you both come undone in one anothers grasp, the unraveling threads intertwining and sewing you together. Soft uh’s and both your names fill the air as you tighten around Josh’s length, ultimately aiding in his warm release pouring into you. You think of the way his pretty pink cock looked tearing through the grapefruit, thankful that you got to feel the stretch he previously only let you watch from across the room.

The two of you lay together, Josh’s softening dick still buried inside your throbbing cunt. Even without being hard, he fills you perfectly. Tired kisses are exchanged alongside a mumbled mix of I love you’s and other domestic thoughts before he clears his throat and speaks.

“You done being jealous now?” Josh chides, smirking against your lips.

“M’not jealous.” You groaned.

“S’okay if you are, you’re still my baby.”

[whollyfree]

Let's Talk

Summary – You have a hard time watching Jake be ogled, and he has a remedy to remind you what's yours.

Pairings – Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Word Count – 3.1k

Warnings – 18+ MINORS DNI!!! oral (f!receiving), face-riding, unprotected sex, dumbification, LOTS of dirty talk, cockwarming if you squint, spanking, mentions of alcohol

You had really fucking had it this time.

Was it a normal thing for Jake to be ogled? Yes! How could he not be? 

It was far too easy to find yourself staring at him; so you truly couldn’t blame anyone else for doing so. With an air of confidence, he enters a room and every eye falls onto him. 

He is an enigma to all (except you, of course) and it felt like damn near every girl at that godforsaken bar was on a mission to have his eyes so much as glance their way. He knows this, of course. How could he not?

But behind his mysterious, debonair exterior, he’s Jake. Your Jake. Your soft, sweet Jake who raids your pantry to make you breakfast in bed and fills your car with gas because “why do you ever let your tank run that low?! It’s not safe!” he had argued (but he still fills it up every time). 

He’s your loving, tender Jake who litters you with kisses at any given moment and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck when the poor thing feels as if he isn’t getting enough of your attention. That, and he can’t stand not to be touching you in any form or fashion. He’s just like a little lovesick puppy!

And no matter how hard you try to remind yourself of these things, to be rational, you can’t help but have to bite your tongue. The jealousy eats away at you and it infuriates you to no end. You hate yourself for it.

Which is why tonight at the bar, you bit your tongue so hard you’re sure small trickles of blood had seeped their way into your mouth. Jake stood by the bar; an arm securely wrapped around your waist as he beckons the bartender over with a simple raise of his fingers. 

Of course, when it’s Jake, it’s not hard to get anyone’s attention; unwanted or not. And that was abundantly clear from the blonde at the end of the bar, twirling her straw in her cocktail as she eyed your boyfriend. 

Her eyes moved up and down, and you notice they became stuck on his exposed chest and silver necklaces dangling against his tanned skin. And, oh god, do you hate her for it.

Stop it. Your conscience pleads with you to (for lack of a better phrase) chill the fuck out!

Jake could tell you were a bit pouty. He knows you all too well. And just as assumed, he knew he was being eye-fucked by the blonde at the end of the bar (and one hidden away in a booth in the back, but like hell he was planning on telling you that).

Part of him hates himself for finding your jealousy so amusing. And in all honesty, if he saw a man looking at you the way that women have looked at him, he’d be raising hell.

“You okay, baby?” He grins as the two of you walk into your home after your excursion to the bar, tossing his car keys on the kitchen counter.

“Mhm.” You hum. Short and sweet. He won’t expect a thing, right?

You’re kidding yourself and you know it.

“Yeah?” He replies, crowding your space immediately from behind. He takes the curves of your hips in each of his palms, his breath tinted with the Maker’s Mark he had a glass of at the bar. Top shelf only for him, of course. “You were awfully quiet tonight. Getting shy on me all of a sudden, princess?”

You can hear the subtle teasing in his voice, and you’re sure he knows exactly what you were sulking for. But you simply answer, not ready to give yourself away too quickly. “No, just tired is all.”

“Just tired is all,” he mocks you with a low chuckle. You’re a terrible liar, always have been. “It’s cute that you think you could ever lie to me.” He adds, lips grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck – it already feels too much but not enough. 

And when his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, you feel a rush of heat between your thighs, and you swear your knees may give out. How he’s able to turn you into a puddle of yourself so quickly? You’ll never know.

“Come on, princess,” he sounds, and just like that it’s over. His hands are removed from your hips and he moves in front of you, his arm outstretched to you and his body facing the stairs. “Let’s go to bed then if you’re so tired.”

You try to hide your huff of annoyance, aching to have his touch again after being subjected to watch women drool over him all night. So you decide, no, you’re not going upstairs. Your arms cross over your chest like an insolent child who didn’t get what they wanted. Stubborn and spoiled. And your act of defiance is certainly not lost on him.

“No?” He quirks up an eyebrow at you, “Is the princess suddenly not tired? Sure are moody, though. What’s that about?”

God, you hate him. You hate that he’s finding your frustration the slightest bit entertaining. He’s taunting you, dangling the carrot in your face just to see you bite back.

He huffs out a laugh at your silence. “Oh, so we don’t wanna talk now, hm? That’s alright. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Before you can even blink, you’re thrown over his shoulder like a rag doll. A surprised shriek slips out of you as he trudges up the stairs and in the direction of your bedroom. Smaller in stature he may be, but weak is not a way you would ever describe him.

“Jake!” You scold him, not having any of his shit right now. “Put me down!”

“Oh, so we are talking now?” He muses, depositing you on the neatly made bed. He hovers over you, standing at the foot of the bed where he practically threw you on it. 

“How about this then, princess?” He taunts, “Since you’re suddenly in the mood to talk, I say we play a little game. You talk, I listen.”

Seems easy enough…a little too easy. 

“Everything off.” There it is.

He strides over to the bed, climbing on before laying on his back. His head rests against the pillow as you continue eyeing him, slowly peeling your clothes off your body until your stark naked and sitting on your heels on the bed.

“So obedient, my pretty girl. And so fucking beautiful when you listen, aren’t you?” He coos. “Come have a seat, princess,” he beckons, still fully clothed, “talk to me.”

With a bite to the inside of your cheek, you rise from your sitting position to straddle his lap. And just as you begin to settle yourself – 

“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “Not quite, baby.”

Your incredulous look makes him laugh. What else could he have wanted?

“Come on,” he encourages, placing his hands on your hips. “Up you go, princess.”

With a quick slap to your ass, he hoists you up further. Your eyes go wide and you yelp at the crack of his hand hitting your skin, your heart racing as your knees straddle either side of his head. 

“Good girl,” he praises, his hands trailing up the sides of your thighs and to your hips to keep you steady. “Go on, princess. Tell me what’s got you so pouty. Wanna help.”

Considering you’re at a loss for words and can’t think straight with him eye-level with your cunt, you suddenly don’t even know why you were upset to begin with. But another swat to your ass quickly brings you back to consciousness.

“F-fuck,” you whimper, your head falling down and fingers gripping his hair. “They were staring at you…at the bar.” You manage out.

“Yeah? Who was, princess?” He’s teasing you even more now, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your clit until you choke out his name and begin tugging on the roots of his hair. He knows you can’t answer; you’re already too far gone and he’s hardly started.

But your impending fear that he would stop has you rushing out the words through uneven breaths.

“The girls at the bar,” you croak out as his lips continue pressing small kisses to your bundle of nerves. “Hated the way they looked at you. I was fucking jealous. I’m sorry.”

Pleased with your answer (even if he already knew it), he grins. And you can feel it against you before he presses one final kiss to your pearl.

“But you see, princess,” he says, smoothing his hands over your hips. “No one else gets to have this. Just because they see my face, doesn’t mean they get to fuck it like you do, do they?”

“N-no.” You reply, desperate to feel his mouth on you again.

“Good girl,” he croons. “And what they don’t know is that I get to have my face fucked by the prettiest little pussy whenever I please. Get to have your scent all over me. ‘Cause it’s yours, isn’t it, princess?” 

“Yes, sir.” You peep, unable to form another word if your life depended on it. 

Not only were you insanely turned on and dripping because his face was buried between your thighs, but it’s also due to how he speaks to you with such dominance and authority. He could have you on your knees (both literally and figuratively) with the snap of his fingers.

With one more praise of good girl, he dives back in, immediately sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking against it like a man starved. You feel your eyes roll back, a whining desperate mess above him. The tugging on his hair only gets tighter as he grips your hips to keep you against him.

You’re sure there will be marks, and you aren’t mad about it either. You need him tethered to you in every way possible.

He expertly licks through your folds, tongue gently prodding at your entrance as his nose brushes your clit. You can’t fight the whimper that leaves your lips, your pussy fluttering around the tip of his tongue. And when he groans at the feeling, you swear you’re done for.

“Jake,” you gasp, tightening your hold on his hair. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He hums against your cunt, flicking your arousal against your clit before sucking it past his lips once more. 

“Yeah, princess? Feel that sweet little cunt fucking squeezing my tongue. That feel good? Feel good to take what’s yours?”

And before you have time to catch your breath, his tongue finds your entrance again. He wastes no time going harder, faster this time. His tongue fucks into you relentlessly, nose nudging your clit in perfect timing. It’s sloppy and wet and downright sinful.

You can hardly register when it happens, you’re so far gone, but you cum hard against his tongue. Grinding your hips against his tongue to chase the feeling for as long as your body will allow while you cry out his name like a hymn.

And he can’t get enough of it either, ravaging you and swallowing every bit he can muster until you pry yourself off of him. 

You look him over, his mouth, chin, and nose glistening with remnants of you. It’s enough to stir you back up again, your overstimulation be damned. Your lips crash into his, and he’s eager to capture them with his own, maneuvering you to straddle his lap. 

“Fuck, my sweet girl,” he breathes out. “Did so fucking good. Came so hard for me. Could eat that pussy until it suffocates me, I swear.”

You gasp when you feel his hardened cock through his jeans that he wore out make contact with your swollen clit. 

Grinding against him, you whimper against his lips at the new feeling bubbling within your tummy. He groans, feeling the slightest bit of relief as you grind against him. With the amount of wetness you felt between your thighs even after your orgasm, you’re sure that you’re absolutely soaking the fabric.

“This what you want, baby?” He murmurs. “Want my cock? Wanna fuck what’s yours?”

“Please.” You whimper, grinding down against him with a bit more force this time before moving your hips upwards to allow him to undress.

He practically moans when he sees the wet splotch of your arousal on the crotch of his jeans. “Fuck, princess. So fucking wet for me.”

“Jake, please,” you whine, tugging at his pants in an effort to make him move faster. 

“Oh, my needy little thing.” He teases, resuming pulling his pants down along with his boxers. “Just had her pussy fucked with my tongue and can’t wait for more, can you?”

You shake your head no, trying to will yourself to calm down. You don’t want him to think he has the power, even though he knows all too well that he already does.

“I know, princess.” He soothes you with his tone, tossing his pants and boxers on the floor along with your clothes. 

His dick stands tall, pressed against his stomach as precome leaks from the slit on the swollen head. He gives himself two languid strokes with his fist, hissing at the feeling. “Can’t wait to have you wrapped up around me…all tight and sweet and warm- fuck, come here, baby. Take it. Take what’s yours.” 

You’re quick to crawl back to him, desperate to have him inside of you as you grasp his shoulders for balance. Using one hand, you grasp him, whimpering when you feel his crown just lining up with your weeping hole. 

Jake holds your waist, patiently waiting for you to sink down around him. And when you do, you could cry from how good and full you feel already. You keen as you feel the familiar and pleasurable sting that only happens when he’s this deep inside you. 

“Shit,” He hisses, fighting the urge to fuck upwards into you. “Feels so good, princess. This cock is yours, baby. Everything is yours.”

And that’s more than enough to encourage you to begin riding him, rolling your hips back and forth at an even pace. You whine and mewl from above him as he holds your waist, encouraging you with each movement you make.

You’re both a complete wreck already. Jake is already so close to coming and you’d hardly started moving your hips against him.

“Whose cock is this?”

You hated when he made you talk. You could listen to him go on and on all day about nothing that truly mattered (especially in bed). But you hate having to talk as well. You feel like you were nowhere near as good at it as he is.

In hopes that he’ll somehow forget what he asked, you resume your movements and peel your eyes away, beginning to go faster in hopes that you’ll truly distract him. But that sure as hell doesn’t work.

“Uh-uh,” He scolds, using his free hand to take your chin and turn it to face him. Eye-to-eye. “Eyes on me, princess. Now tell me whose cock this is. Wanna hear you, sweet girl. Tell me nice and loud.”

You’re embarrassed. If your cheeks could turn any darker in this moment, you’re sure they would. And you don’t want to answer him, suddenly bashful even when he’s buried inside of you as you bounce on his cock. 

Displeased with your lack of a response, he angles his hips upwards, meeting you halfway to send himself deeper into the depths of your cunt. It catches you off guard to say the least, but only causes you to move faster, further onto him to chase that feeling again.

“It’s mine, sir,” you whine, words rushed and breathless. “It’s mineit’smineit’smine!” You continue, drunk off his cock and so close to coming you can’t hardly stand it.

Jake groans, continuing to push his hips upwards. “Yes, princess. My good fucking girl. It’s fucking yours.”

You want him to come harder than he ever has; want his cum deep inside you because it really is yours. He’s yours.

“Taking me so well, princess.” He pants. “Riding me so fucking good. Go on, baby. Want you to come again. Soak my cock, baby.”

Your words become mush, incoherent babbles as you continue fucking yourself on him. You can’t hardly breathe anymore, your chest heaving for breath as you feel the knot inside of you threatening to snap.

“Oh, princess…” he coos, “My dumb little baby. Can’t even get a word out when my cock’s buried inside you. Can’t even help it, can you?” He snaps his hips upwards more forcefully than before, an unforgiving pace that allows you some sort of reprieve from the burning in your thighs.

The moan that rips from your chest would have caused you to curl in on yourself in embarrassment, but right now you can’t seem to care. The way he’s fucking into you, the way he’s speaking to you…it’s too much for your already fucked-out brain to handle.

“Gonna come!” You muster out, your voice cracking as you grip his shoulders tighter.

“Yeah?” Jake taunts, still snapping into you as your pussy contracts around him. “Do it, princess. I can feel you fucking squeezing me so tight- fuck, baby. Gonna make me fucking come, aren’t you?”

You want to answer him; you really do. But all you can muster is a nod as your orgasm rips through you, your mouth dropping open and your cunt locking down around Jake as it fights to keep him inside. Your ears ring as you pulse around him, unsure if you’re making noise or not at this point. 

Jake’s orgasm washes over him, choking out a moan of your name as he buries himself as far as he can. He spills inside of you, cum spurting from his swollen tip and into you. You feel him coating your walls as your vision returns to you, his eyebrows furrowed and sweat glimmering his forehead. 

God, he’s beautiful all the time, but especially like this.

The two of you are a breathless mess, feeling the his cum mixing with yours as it seeps down your inner thighs. You breathe out a laugh, your forehead falling against his as he wraps his arm around you.

“I’m yours, princess.” His voice is as soft as silk as he traces his fingertips along your spine. “You know that don’t you?”

You smile, lashes fluttering as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes your heart feel warm – even when you don’t deserve it; even when you’re acting like a brat.

“I do now.” You tease, attempting to bite back a smile but ultimately failing when you hear him giggle.

“Oh, princess,” He tightens his arms around you. “What are we gonna do with you?”

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[sirjaketkiszka]

Josh Kiszka One Shot: Just Friends

You share an embarrassing secret with Josh. Turns out, he shares the same one.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,253

Warnings: 18+!!, sexual content, cursing, mutual loss of virginity, slight dirty talking, kissing, dry humping/grinding, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected sex, oral m!receiving, swallowing, and, of course, mediocre writing.

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

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The slight chill in the early summer air causes goosebumps to pepper your bare arms and legs, making your hands subconsciously rub the textured skin. You and Josh retreated to the backyard when Jake’s end-of-the-school-year party got too overwhelming, but a majority of the company had vanished by now. The previous music coming from the house is no longer playing, and the cars that littered the streets have all pulled away.

Golden and blush pink hues paint the skies like rough brush strokes, and minuscule twinkles of surfacing stars shine through the fading clouds. You could stare at the sun-setting sky for hours, but the brisk wind sends a chill up your spine and you grow noticeably uncomfortable.

“Want my jacket?” Josh asks, his head turned toward you as yours cranes upward to the scene above you. His soft voice pulls you to look at him, and you can tell by the way the tip of his nose sports a gentle shade of pink that he’s also cold.

“I’m okay,” You dismiss his question, hoping he’ll leave it alone.

“Please, just take it,” He insists, his hands finding the bottom hem of his oversized hoodie and lifting it above his head, “You know I run hot anyway.” He winks, handing you the bundle of warm fabric. You know his statement is a lie to get you to accept the jacket, but you also know he won’t let the topic go until he gets his way.

“Thank you,” Mumbling under your breath, you slip your arms through the sleeves and allow the fabric to fall over your shoulders and cover your torso. Immediately, your senses are flooded with his rich and comforting scent. Notes of cinnamon, firewood smoke, and the faint smell of weed intertwine themselves in the carefully woven wool of the Baja hoodie.

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, and the light breeze creates a soft woosh sound; a product of the branches on bordering trees brushing up against each other. The bonfire before you dissipates into a low amber glow, the quiet crackles indicating its last leg. You know it’s time to head back, but just by glancing over to the house, you can tell that Jake is cleaning up and he’ll ask for help the moment you two walk inside.

“So,” Josh’s voice turns your head back to him, “Did you enjoy your first year of college?”

“Um,” You hesitate, giving the question some thought, “Yeah, I did.” Though the tone of your voice says otherwise, and Josh, of course, notices. As a form of comfort, you bring your thumbnail to your parted lips, anxiously nibbling on it while you zone out.

“That wasn’t convincing at all,” Josh chuckles while leaning over and gently wrapping his long fingers around your wrist, stopping you from chewing your nail off. This time, you really look at him; concern is reflected in his furrowed brows, his eyes searching your face for any indication of the truth, “What’s wrong?”

One thing is for certain, Josh always knows when you are upset. It sometimes feels like he knows you better than you know yourself, which can get a little annoying, especially when you prefer to process certain things privately. Although, with being friends since elementary school, his accurate reading of your emotions is a given.

“Well, I guess I expected more,” You shrug, avoiding the real reason.

“Like what?” He pushes, and your pulse begins to climb under his interrogating stare as he’s nearly falling out of his seat, quite literally on the edge of it. If you tell him you don’t want to talk about it, he will let it go, but another part of you wants to tell him.

“I just– Ugh,” You groan, the words proving hard to form because of how embarrassed you feel by them, “I expected more male attention.” Your words are rushed, your eyes diverting from his softening gaze. God, you hate when he pities you.

“Oh,” His lack of response surprises you, and you can’t help but notice the subtle disappointment laced in his features, “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” A frustrated huff exhales from you, and you slump in the uncomfortable lawn chair, “A relationship maybe– my first relationship.”

“Well, you know, the right person will–”

“And my first time,” You blurt out. Both yours and Josh’s eyes widen at your admission and, of course, you panic and continue, “I know we don’t talk about our sex lives with each other, but I thought maybe I would’ve lost it by now.” You feel so juvenile avoiding the word virginity, but you can’t help it, and you’re afraid of any potential nearby listeners.

“It’s perfectly normal to wait,” He soothes, and you only now realize that his hand is still wrapped around your limp wrist, absently rubbing small circles on your smooth skin with his thumb.

“I know, but… I don’t want to,” You sigh, feeling as though a weight’s been lifted off of you, and now you can openly express your disappointment, “I know I shouldn’t feel embarrassed, but I am, and part of me does want to wait for the ‘right’ person, but another wants to just get it over with, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” He sits back in his chair, releasing your wrist and resting his hands on the chair’s armrests, “If it makes you feel better, I haven’t done it either.”

“Wait, really?” You sit up a little, and he smirks at your enthusiasm. When you think about it, Josh hasn’t ever dated anyone long enough to get to that point, so it should make sense, yet you still assumed he lost it somewhere along the way. You’re not entirely sure why you’re so relieved to hear that he’s still a virgin, like you, but you can’t help but smile.

“Don’t sound so excited,” He laughs, his head thrown back and perfect teeth flashing.

“I’m not!” You giggle, “Just surprised, that’s all.”

“I guess I’m just waiting for the right person,” He shrugs, resting his head on the back of his chair and staring up at the darkening sky. The previously colorful shades morph into a jet-black sky, and the stars freckle the dark backdrop. The temperature will only lower from this point on, and when you take another glance at the house, there’s no more movement, just the soft glow of the television from the living room. “Hey, what if–” Josh breaks the brief moment of silence, and you’re eager to hear his thoughts, “Never mind.”

“What if what?” You urge, fully sitting up in your seat.

“It’s nothing,” He shakes his head, brushing you off.

“Oh c’mon, Josh,” You nearly whine, curiosity getting the best of you. You have an inkling of what he might say, but then again, the idea is ridiculous. Absurd, even. He’d never suggest a thing like that.

“I was going to say we could… you know… together,” Oh, he would suggest it, apparently. He glances over at you, then away, his voice hardly a whisper by the end of his sentence, and you’re left speechless, “It’s stupid, I know. I thought maybe because we’re best friends that it wouldn’t be so weird, but I can see now that it is weird, so let’s ignore–”

“Okay.” You cut him off, his lips sealing and eyes holding yours.

“Okay… let’s ignore it?” He asks.

“No, okay as in ‘let’s do it’,” You explain, and his jaw nearly drops, “If you’re okay with it, and I’m okay with it, what’s the harm?”

“I–” He pauses, “That’s true. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” You respond confidently, “Are you sure? We totally don’t have to.”

“No, no, I want to,” He rushes out, and you have to fight back the smile that threatens to pull at your lips.

“So,” You drag out the word, feeling a little awkward, “When should we…?”

“Oh! Um,” He looks around and takes note of the empty house, all prior company is suddenly gone and the street is empty, “We could do it now?”

“Like now, now?”

“Unless you don’t want to!”

“No, let’s go,” You say, nodding your head toward the house and getting up. His gaze follows you, his eyes locked on yours as he gets up from his chair. The fire has dwindled into nothing but smoking ashes, and the only light that guides your way is the dimly lit back porch light. Your footsteps create quiet thuds into the overgrown grass, and you try to be courteous while climbing up the steps to the sliding door. Josh follows closely behind you, letting you walk in first, and you both remove your shoes by the door.

The kitchen is surprisingly clean– you almost can’t tell that there had been a party just over an hour ago. The rest of the house is eerily quiet, but the muffled sound of the living room TV carries into the kitchen, and you both have to walk through the room to get to the stairs. When you peer into the living room, Jake is sprawled out on the couch, clicking through channels and sipping on his last drink of the night.

“Hey, guys, I was wondering when you’d come inside,” He greets you and his twin, although he doesn’t look away from the TV.

“Hey, Jake,” Josh steps in front of you, addressing his twin, “We’re going to go watch a movie in my room, let us know if it gets too loud.”

On any other day, that would be a normal thing for the two of you, but tonight, it feels very different. It isn’t out of the ordinary for you to stay late and watch movies with Josh, but it is out of the ordinary to lie about what you were actually going to do, and somehow, you feel like Jake knows. He couldn't possibly know, but your conscience says otherwise.

“No worries,” Jake mutters into his cup, taking a sip and finally settling on a channel to his liking.

Josh motions for you to follow him, walking past the TV and up the stairs. Your pulse pounds in your ears the closer you get to Josh’s room, and you swallow down the anxious lump in your throat when he opens the door for you, allowing you to walk in first and lock the door behind you. You’ve been in his room plenty of times, but again, this is under different circumstances.

He rushes past you and slips a random DVD into his small TV, turning the volume up considerably loud. When he turns to face you, a nervous smile is on his lips, and you’re sure your expression is mirroring his. Was this a good idea? Only one way to find out.

Taking a seat on the bottom edge of his twin-sized bed, you pat the empty spot next to you, urging him to sit down. He moves quickly, sitting beside you and turning to look at you. His eyes frantically search your features, and yours do the same, taking in his appearance; his face is slightly flushed, and his shoulders show how deeply he’s breathing, slowly rising and slowly falling.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice coming out in barely a whisper.

“Yes,” The single word comes out in a quick huff, and only now do you realize how you’ve been holding your breath, anticipation prickling up your spine. Josh’s eyes zero in on your lips, his upper body leaning toward you, gravitating your own to him. Through parted lips, quick breaths exit the both of you, brushing against each other when you get closer, and eventually collide.

With eyes fluttering close, his lips are plush and perfectly molded against yours. The feeling is foreign, but a feeling you wholeheartedly welcome. Only a fleeting moment passes before your lips move fluidly with his, causing heat to rise to your neck and settle in your scarlet cheeks. Desperate for his touch, your hand reaches for his, guiding him underneath his sweatshirt that you’re still wearing, and allowing his fingers to glide along your bare waist. Your stomach clenches and a small gasp is pulled from you when his hand slides up your ribs and settles just below the cup of your bra, gripping the heated flesh slightly.

Pulling away, your eyes peel open to hold his gaze; his pupils are blown, his irises nearly pitch black, and his plump lips are a shiny maroon. Soft pants leave the both of you, eyes wide and yearning for more.

“Are we really doing this?” He asks, breathless, his brows scrunching in disbelief.

“I don’t want to stop,” You admit, your hand on his caressing reassuringly.

“Neither do I,” He says with a smile, flashing the gap between his teeth. You always love it when it shows through his toothy grin, a result of his goofy laugh or pure excitement. From now on, you will think of this moment, and that thought scares you, but yet, you can’t find it within yourself to care.

“Good,” You smirk, pulling away from him while backing up fully onto his bed, only stopping when your head hovers above his pillows. He remains at the end of the bed with his hand that was once on your skin subconsciously reaching out to you. “Come here,” You instruct him.

He turns over to crawl up the bed, his eyes bouncing from yours to your opening legs when he gets closer. Inching over your body, his hips lay snug against yours, and you hold back the surprised moan that settles in your throat when you feel his growing bulge against your core. He wastes no time placing his lips on yours again, letting his arms hold himself up on either side of your head, caging you in.

Your legs lazily tangle with his, your hands coming up to grip his clothed waist. This kiss is unlike the last; it’s fervent, hungry, and urgent. His breathing is heavy through his nose, and your small whimpers travel into his haste kisses while he absently grinds into you. Heat pools in your core when his bulge massages your aching clit, causing whimpers to mix with needy moans, and rough grunts to catch in the back of Josh’s throat, muffled by the kiss.

Moving his hips faster, your mouth opens to let out a moan, but his tongue swipes against yours, silencing you. The simultaneous sensation of him grinding into you and his tongue clashing with yours dulls your senses, drowning out the blaring sound of the movie playing, making you dizzy. If you found his scent comforting, his taste is all the same; smokey, cinnamon, and just Josh.

Pressing a final peck to your partially open lips, he travels down your chin to your jawline, leaving open-mouth kisses along your jawbone. Breathless moans consistently brush past your parted lips as he moves to your neck, your head tilting to allow him better access. Traveling up from his waist, one of your hands rests on the back of his neck, intertwining his braided rat tail between your fingers. He gently sucks on the sensitive skin below your ear, making sure to pull away before leaving a mark of any sort.

“Can I try something?” His words are broken up between gentle pecks, slightly muffled by the crook of your neck. When he pulls away, you nod eagerly, watching him sit back on the heels of his feet and gripping the bottom of your hoodie. Sitting up slightly, you let him lift the garment off of you, leaving you in just your tank top and shorts. A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips, his eyes shamelessly admiring your flushed state, heavily breathing with legs spread open for him. “May I?” He asks, sliding his hands up your bare thighs, inching up the rough fabric of your denim jeans, and stopping just where the button and zipper are.

Nodding again, he unbuttons your shorts and slowly unzips them, his fingers hooking into the waistband and tugging gently. You lift your hips, allowing him to slide the fabric over your ass and hips, and down your legs. He tosses the shorts somewhere behind him, his focus solely on your clothed cunt. His jaw is slack, his tongue swiping along his lower lip as fingers trace the hem of your underwear.

You silently thank your past self for choosing such cute underwear; a simple black cotton pair with a lace waistband. If only you knew how handy it would become. His eyes flick up to yours, “Can I take them off?” His voice oozes with tenderness, though there’s a slight tremble, telling you that he’s just as nervous as you are. The thought oddly soothes you, reminding you that this is his first time too.

“Please,” You beg, slowly nodding and swallowing back the nerves that come with being completely exposed to him. You figure the anxiousness would be worse had you agreed to do this with someone you don’t know as well as Josh, and the closer you get to the real thing, the more eager you are. He removes your underwear at a tantalizing pace, the stretchy fabric sliding over the hills of your ass when you lift your hips, and peeling off your wet slit. If your face could get any hotter, you’re sure your cheeks are dark maroon, and you fight the urge to close your legs when he nearly stops breathing at the sight of you.

“So beautiful,” He mumbles to himself, and barely audible enough for you to hear. Your hands fidget with the sheets on either side of you, and you watch as he leans forward, pressing a tender kiss to your bent knee, and then to the other. He takes his time alternating between legs, leaving gentle kisses along your thighs as he repositions himself to lay on his stomach, his head just inches from where you want him. Feeling his soft breaths cascade on your soaked cunt, you fight the urge to grind your hips upward, desperate for relief of any sort.

Thankfully, he takes the hint, likely noticing your restraint and near lack thereof. His hands press on your inner thighs, prompting you to spread them wider, and he holds you there. Leaning forward, he presses a light kiss on your clit and your hips writhe at the simple gesture. If that can get you worked up, you aren’t prepared for what’s next.

He places another kiss, firmer this time, and a moan carries itself out with the shaky exhale you release. Just when you think you can’t take the teasing any longer, Josh swipes his tongue along your slit, and your back arches at the foreign feeling. If this felt otherworldly, how did actual sex feel? More swipes of his tongue pull incoherent words from you, mumbled between desperate whines and surprised gasps. Low hums vibrate his tongue, and his hips absentmindedly grind into his mattress, his eyes closed and eyebrows synched while he tastes you.

“Oh my, God,” You breathe out, feeling the warmth erupt in your lower abdomen and send waves of pleasure straight to your core, “You’re so good,” Encouraging words elicit him to flick his tongue on your swollen clit, and a deep groan pushes past your lips as you throw your head back in his pillows and a free hand carefully grasps at his curls, “Fuck— Just like that, please, Josh.”

One of his hands holding your thighs apart slides along the plush flesh, and you gasp when his middle finger toys with your entrance, “Is this okay?” He mumbles against your clit.

You nod frantically, “God, yes, please.”

Slowly pushing his middle finger in, he continues his attention on your clit, distracting you from the feeling of your walls stretching around the digit. There’s no pain, but you know he’s just trying to get you adjusted to feeling full. Short pumps and the curl of his finger press against your g-spot, and you whine at the feeling, your back peeling off of the mattress.

Trembling legs, the string of breathless moans, and the uncontrollable writhing of your hips signal a close release. You’re so close to finishing, feeling your walls pulse around him, but you’re afraid that it’ll end once you reach climax.

“Need more,” You mutter while lifting your head and tugging on his hair slightly, making him look up at you, “Need you inside me.”

He pulls his mouth away quickly and removes his finger leisurely, eager much like you are, and returns to his kneeled position between your legs— your hands returning to their resting position on either side of you. Without a word, he lifts his t-shirt over his head and you nearly salivate at his impressive physique. Sure, you’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times, and yet, this is different; his abs clench with every passing breath, his shoulders visibly heaving, and to top it all off, his lips and chin shine in the dimly lit room, a product of you.

Cautious eyes observe him while he unbuttons his khaki shorts, unzipping them and pulling them down just enough to pool around his bent knees. His erection strains in his boxers, begging to be released, and when he pulls the waistband down, you swallow thickly. The tip of his cock leaks precum, and his hand wraps around the shaft, pumping lazily. Your gaze travels up his body, settling on his face, which reflects how eager and nervous he is.

“Shit… I don’t have a condom,” His meek voice admits with a chuckle, “We don’t have to—”

“No! It’s okay,” You rush out, a little too impatiently, but you really wanted this and didn’t want to back out now, “We’ll just be… safe.”

“Okay… Okay, yeah, we’ll be safe,” He nods, understanding what you mean. Leaning forward, his fingers still wrapped firmly around his length, he rests his other hand on the pillow beside your head. A shared shaky breath leaves both of you when his tip glides between your folds, roughly circling your clit and gathering the wetness. Slowly, he positions his tip with your weeping entrance, and the pressure causes you to hold your breath, “Ready?” He asks, making sure to maintain strong eye contact.

“Yes,” You choke out, still afraid to breathe.

“Let me know if it hurts too much,” He comforts, and while you appreciate it, you want— no, need— him now, “We’ll stop, okay?”

“I know,” You swiftly nod while your eyes shoot between his and his erection poking at your cunt, “I’m ready. Are you?” You make sure to ask, realizing how reassuring he’s been this entire time, and afraid that you’ve been lacking the same hospitality.

“Of course,” He smirks, and his hips move forward by an inch, letting his tip be consumed by you. Your chest gets tight, your lungs stalling as you anticipate pain of any sort, “Breathe,” He comforts, inching deeper into you, “Just relax, mama.”

His unusual pet name almost distracts you from the stretching feeling of his cock pushing into you, your walls doing their best to accommodate his size. You breathe deeply, letting out shaky exhales as your wide eyes lock onto his, a sharp gasp pulling into your lungs when he eventually bottoms out. A relieved groan melts from Josh’s tongue; his eyebrows scrunched in pleasure, and his lips agape. The stinging sensation is dull, not overwhelming in the slightest, but you still grip Josh’s waist, waiting for it to hurt.

“You feel so– fuck,” His voice is strained, his hips unable to move while his cock twitches inside of you, wanting more. His eyes nearly roll when you absently squeeze around him, pulling a drawn whine from him, “How can someone feel so… good.” His words send a rush of arousal to your core, coating his erection as he inches his hips back, and carefully pushes back in.

“Holy shit,” Your words are dragged out by a moan, surprised by how natural this feels. You expected blistering pain with little to no pleasure involved, but this felt delicious. As his tip brushes against your textured walls, a mixture of your whimpers and his breathy grunts tangle in the space between you, silencing the TV that plays loudly just feet away from you.

“How does that feel?” He murmurs, his voice lost when he speeds up slightly, the previous resistance no longer present, allowing him to glide in and out of you effortlessly. With his gaining speed, your legs wrap around his waist, creating a new angle that pulls him in deeper.

“So good, Josh,” You cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as the pressure rebuilds itself in your gut, “Please, don’t stop.” He quickens his thrusts, repositioning his arm beside you, resting his upper body weight on his elbow and forearm. His free hand explores your curves; gripping your thighs, your waist, skimming over your clothed breasts, and finally sliding down to your spread cunt.

“Does that feel good?” He sweetly whispers directly in your ear, lazily rubbing circles around your clit. Your hand flies from his waist to his, guiding him to press firmer and rub faster.

“Fuck, yes!” Your words grow increasingly louder the closer your climax gets, and your distracted mind forgets the company that resides in the story just below you.

“God, you feel so good,” Josh’s husky voice and quick breaths brushing against your earlobe add to your pleasure, heightening your peak and tightening the wounding coil, “So warm, so tight.”

“Oh god, Josh,” You whine, your other hand leaving his waist and sliding up his back, your nails pressing crescent moons into the warm skin. “I’m close,” Crying out, your legs tighten around his waist, and your hand grips his wrist, encouraging him to keep going, “Shit!”

The coil in your abdomen snaps, sending a rush of heat through your limbs and core, causing your legs to frantically shake around him and your cunt to rapidly squeeze him as he continues pumping into you. Eyes shooting open to look at the ceiling, your vision is hazy and hearing is muffled, the only sound being let in is the distant string of profanities and cries. Whispered phrases like “That’s right,” “It’s okay,” and “Holy shit.” leave Josh’s lips, which press against the top of your ear.

The final pulses of your orgasm grasp around his length and your moans melt into exasperated breaths, your chest heaving against his. Placing soft kisses along your jawline, he moves further down, peppering along your exposed collarbone and nibbling on the thin skin. His hips gradually slow down, and he practically comes to a halt.

“What- why are you slowing down? Are you okay?” Your words are rushed, and they pull him to look at you, a lazy smile plastered on his plump lips. His face is completely flushed; red splotches cross the bridge of his nose and make a home of his naturally rosy cheeks.

“It’s okay, nothing’s wrong,” He assures, pressing a soft peck to your parted lips, “I just need a minute,” He chuckles as his hips tiredly thrust into you, “I’m so close.” His admission gives you an idea and a favor you’d like to return.

“Wait,” He immediately stops when the word leaves your lips, and his eyes are piercing, afraid he might’ve done something wrong, “Can I– Can I taste you?” Your shy voice comes out in a whisper. His face is stunned, but if it’s possible, his eyes grow darker, clearly enjoying the thought.

“Of course,” He chokes out, clearing his throat. Carefully pulling out, a noise of resistance exits both of you. Glancing at his cock, it’s covered in your release, and your mouth waters at the sight. You switch positions with him, letting him lay on the bed while you sit in between his legs. In the process, he’s taken both his shorts and boxers off, leaving him bare to you.

His eyes are expectant, patiently waiting and watching as you bend forward, lightly grasping his member with your hand and gently placing a kiss on his leaking tip. His hips jut forward, chasing your mouth when you pull away, looking at him with a satisfied smile on your face.

Leaning forward again, your lips part and wrap around his sensitive tip, sucking delicately and pulling a trembling sigh from Josh. The saltiness of his precum and the taste of your climax coat your tastebuds, making your mouth water. Swirling your tongue around him, you plunge deeper, inching his erection into your mouth until his tip pushes against the back of your throat. To prevent yourself from gagging, you hum, making his cock twitch. A sharp gasp pierces his lungs when you pull away and immediately sink back down, your head slowly bobbing on his length.

“Oh, my God,” He mumbles, your eyes shooting to his while you work your way up and down, sucking just enough, “that feels so– fuck.” His head falls back with his eyebrows scrunched, and his hips do their best not to thrust into you, chasing his own release. You move quicker, ignoring the stinging sensation of tears gathering on your waterline, “Keep going, oh god,” You do, sucking harshly, “I’m gonna come.”

His choked words morph into mouth-watering whines, encouraging you to work faster, pulling his orgasm from him. Rushed-out curses leave his sweet lips as his hips sputter and stomach clenches, his cock twitching deep within your mouth. A hand flies to your hair, silently begging for you to keep going while spurts of hot cum coat the back of your tongue. The feeling is overwhelming, and the liquid threatens to leak from the corners of your mouth as you continue your work on him, only pulling away when his erection no longer spasms with every passing of your lips.

When his head finally lifts from the pillows, you swallow eagerly, making sure to hold his amazed stare when you do so. His eyes are shining, cheeks deep red, and his lips stay parted. His eyes are wide as his hand travels from your hair to your cheek, cradling your face and wiping away the drop of cum that escaped on the corner of your mouth with a swipe of his thumb.

“That was—” He breathes out, his chest rapidly rising and falling, an appreciative smile falling on his lips.

“It was,” You shoot back, smiling in return and crawling up his body, surprising him with a firm peck. His hands grip your waist, his chin lifting to deepen the kiss, a pleased hum vibrating your lips.

Knock Knock

The two of you separate at an impressive speed with Josh scrambling to cover you with the blanket located at the end of his bed. Even with the door locked, you feel panic rising in your throat, making you feel sick, “Yeah?” Josh calls out.

“I’m going to bed, can you turn the volume down?” Jake’s muffled voice comes from behind the door, presumably clueless to the state in which you and Josh are in.

“Yes! Sorry!” Josh quickly replies, rushing to the TV and turning the knob, making the volume gradually lower until the room is near silent. When he turns back to you, you both stifle a laugh, and you lift the blanket, motioning for him to join you. “Shouldn’t I get dressed first?”

“Hmmm,” You think about it, lifting a brow and smugly smirking, “Nah.”

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My second Josh one shot, hurray! It’s a little different from what I usually write, but I hope you enjoyed! <3

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@musicislove3389

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[obetrolncocktails]

Deception | Josh Kiszka X Reader | Part 2

Warnings: stalking behavior, gaslighting, anxiety, secrets, angst, lying, alcohol consumption, betrayal, blackmailing, guilt.

Word Count: 4.7K

Author's Note: This series has been heartbreaking, but so fun to write so far....oh, how I love to tear your hearts into itty bitty shreds! MUAHAHA

Summary: Be careful what you write, what you post, and who you know. One wrong move could bear severe consequences.

You weren’t used to functioning with spectators watching you. You couldn’t remain calm and collected in the eyes of others, especially those that you didn’t know. That was Josh’s specialty. His extraverted nature guaranteed ease of conversation with anyone; stranger or friend, Josh excelled at opening himself to them with little to no hesitation. Recently, you had become so guarded and paranoid, turning with every step you took, checking your phone constantly for another threatening text from your stalker. It had been a week, and you’d waited impatiently for the next unsettling message, but it never came. The mystery of it left your gut churning, the secret guilt rising in your throat like corrosive acid. Through the soft tinking of glasses, and Josh’s hand squeezing your thigh, you nursed yourself back into the light dinner conversation, scrambling for the important points of discussion so you could mask around everyone. You pasted on an unbothered expression and cleared your throat, reaching for your glass of wine. You felt Josh’s thumb spin slow, delicate circles into your thigh, and you knew that he was aware of your distance. He turned his gaze to you while the conversation continued and mouthed, “You okay?” You read his lips and nodded, thought the opposite was true. 

“I’m fine. My stomach hurts,” You lied, placing your hand on top of his, feeling his thumb move to slide over one of your fingers. 

He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your temple, his hand moving to caress the small of your back. “I’m sorry, baby. We can leave in a minute or two, don’t worry.” You nodded, offering another gentle smile. In this restaurant, you felt on display despite the fact that no one in particular seemed to hone in their attention specifically to you. Jake, Jita and Sam were occupied within a discussion that must have been riveting, because Sam seemed to gesture excitedly about every five seconds, while Jake sat leaned forward in his seat, his thumb and forefinger pressed thoughtfully against his lips while Jita reclined back in her chair, chiming in when she saw fit. Danny had excused himself from the table a while ago to take a phone call. 

Buzz. 

“3998 Hillsboro Pike, Nashville, TN 37215 You look beautiful in that slutty dress, by the way.”

An address. You swallowed, a terrific wave of anxiety sizzling over your body like an encroaching wildfire. You flitted your head upward, peering beyond the table like helpless prey in the scope of a hunting rifle. Pulling up google, you typed in the address. The result appeared:

Santo: Greek, Mediterranean restaurant in the Greek Neighborhood, West Nashville. 

Bile surged up your throat and into your mouth, soiling your tastebuds with acrid bitterness. You rose from the table, cringing from the sound your chair made as it scraped at the polished concrete floor. 

“I don’t feel good. I’ll be right back,” you sputtered to Josh before quickly turning and rushing away, fully aware that everyone at the table was watching you. 

You sheltered yourself inside the private bathroom, blessing the powers from above for granting you this one moment of relief. You forced yourself to breathe deeply, forcing the need to vomit back down your throat. Sitting on the toilet, you pulled the phone out and looked at the text message again. 

“Who the fuck are you, and why are you following me?”  You pressed send, feeling another rush of adrenaline roll through your body, inducing a thin layer of perspiration to pock the high points of your brow.

“Oh Y/n, you’re not quite as discrete as you think you are. I know who you are because you weren’t exactly hard to find.” You read the text immediately as it arrived, not daring to navigate away from this conversation. They weren’t done tormenting you, it seemed. You watched three dots bounce on your screen for what seemed like an eternity. 

*Sent with invisible ink.* 

It was a picture. 

You hesitantly swiped at the screen, revealing the contents of the image. If you could have slithered and disappeared through the floor drain of this bathroom, you would have. It was a screenshot of your Tumblr page, decked out with scrolling pictures of Josh performing on stage, the main pinned quote on your page a salacious profession of what you would like to do to him if given the chance. At the time, it was innocent. A parasocial ‘what-if’ hyperfixation that sufficed as your escape from the mundanity of everyday life. Now, it had come back to terrorize you and jeopardize the one thing you held most dear. You held fast, preparing another text. 

“So you have an old screenshot. So what? I privated my account.” 

You waited for a long while, but when the three dots never appeared again, you rose from the toilet and washed your hands, not stopping to dry them. You let your fingertips drip, wiping them on your dress as you stepped back into the bustling dining room. 

“We were just about to send a rescue team,” Sam said, turning in his seat. “Thought you got stuck in the toilet.” 

“Hey, hey. Leave Y/n alone. The sight of you makes me nauseous too,” Jake retorted slyly. Usually you would have played the game with them both, but this new paranoia weighed you down like black tar, covering your body and soul in invisible filth. You couldn’t look anyone in the eye, especially not Josh. You would have to decide your next move quickly. 

“Can I have some water?” You asked quietly to no one in particular, the dryness of your throat producing little more than a croak when you spoke. Jita reached immediately for her glass and poured more water from the carafe, standing up and moving around the table to approach you. 

“You don’t look so good, babe,” She said gently, handing over the glass, her brows furrowing with concern as she lifted her hand to your forehead. “You’re not feverish, but you are clammy,” she said, her nurturing instincts taking over. As a medical professional, she knew how to triage, even in the middle of a fine-dining restaurant. You turned as you heard the familiar grinding of a chair against the floor. It shot spears of anxiety into your body. Josh stood up from his seat. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly, quickly folding his cloth napkin and laying it on top of his plate. Side-stepping away from the table, he stepped toward you, his hands immediately finding somewhere on your body to caress, to protect. You’d never felt disgusting before, so ashamed of yourself as if you could taint anyone near with your presence. You cringed when you felt his touch. He was blissfully unaware of the terrible secret you had hidden so well. Until now. 

Buzz. 

“Wanna know a little secret I’m keeping, too?” Your screen illuminated in your hand, the newest notification sending shivers down your body from the top of your head, to your toes. 

“Who’s that?” Josh asked casually, pulling you in and kissing your head as he reached for your purse from your seat, hanging the strap off of his shoulder. 

Fuck. He saw the message. You decided to play it off, standing up straight. 

“Just my cousin. She’s gossiping about her brother-in-law. If I’m honest, I’m not in the mood to respond.” It was a safe lie. 

“Did she get a new phone recently?” He asked, reaching for his wallet and keys, from the table. He finished the final sip of his wine. 

“What’s with the third degree?” Sam jutted in, ruffling his long hair with his fingertips. You looked at him with a forced smile. 

“She finally got an iphone last week, and changed carriers. I just haven’t put in her contact info in yet.” Josh wrapped an arm around your shoulder, leaning to kiss the side of your head. 

“We’re heading out, guys. Jake, if you handle the bill, I’ll pay you back.” Jake nodded and shrugged casually in a ‘I got it,’ manner. “Don’t have much fun without us. Danny,” Josh said, pointing to his brother. “Don’t let this miscreant make bad choices. That’s my job.” 

Sam looked around briefly before lifting a middle finger in the air, blowing on it like a smoking pistol. “Dude, you are so lame,” Jake said, turning to the younger pair.

“I’ll take that as a I’ll see you later,” Josh said, squeezing you tighter. “Come on, baby.” He reached down to take your hand in his, and you did, though you felt simultaneously comforted, yet unsettled by it. 

***

The drive home was quiet, and Josh let you lean against the window. It was a relief that he knew nothing of the inner turmoil that roiled in your gut. He always seemed like he needed to be touching you; despite the silence in the car, he still proved his loyalty in small, but meaningful ways. His right hand rested on your thigh, his thumb rubbing slow, dragging circles into your skin. 

Another vibration ripped through the desperate calm of the drive. 

“Not interested in hearing my secret? Oh, I’ll just tell you then! I have your password, and soon I’ll have everything I need for your other related socials. Go ahead and try to log in. I changed the password and email, and re-routed the phone number to my own. Don’t worry, it’s not this one. Your account is safe in my hands. Until it’s not.”

Is this a fucking threat? You thought to yourself. 

“What the fuck do you want from me?” You typed, terror sizzling through your bloodstream and into your fingertips. You waited for another long moment, this time staring directly at the screen. 

“I want absolutely nothing from you, Y/n. I just want the satisfaction of telling Josh the dirty, pathetic truth of who you are.” You swallowed and looked instinctively at him. He turned his head to you as he approached a stop sign, flipping his hand over for you to take. You echoed his smile, though guilt and mortification roiled in your gut. 

“Are you happy?” He asked suddenly, his eyebrows raising softly, his face turning serious. 

“Of course I’m happy,” you said, squeezing his hand, intensifying your smile. 

“Very good,” He answered softly. “Just checking.” He pulled your looped hands up to his lips, kissing your knuckles before proceeding past the octagonal sign. 

Stop. 

Stop. 

Stop. 

You let the message of the traffic sign flood through your senses like a levee about to break and crumble, the waters destined to destroy anything and everything in its path. 

“Leave me the fuck alone, or I’ll call the cops.” You typed with one hand, and looked out of the window at the passing Nashville scenery. 

“Do it. You’ll just look incensed to them. No one can find me. I’ve got friends who, with their handiwork, have ensured my anonymity.” 

You were trapped. Should you ignore the messages? What would come of them?

“He doesn’t know, does he?” The message chimed through again. 

You’ve had enough. You click the info button at the top of the contact bubble and select ‘Block.” Just like that, the imessage bubbles turned green, flooding you with a sense of relief. You sighed heavily. 

“Feeling any better?” Josh asked, turning briefly to you as he entered the neighborhood. You swallowed and nodded, feeling the anxiety waning. 

“Much,” you admitted. 

“Let’s go inside and watch a terrible movie,” he said, pulling into the front yard. “Popcorn, snacks, me-you time.” He reached to scratch at his hair as he turned off the ignition. You turned your head to smile softly at him. 

“I’d like that,” you agreed. For the rest of the night, you didn’t receive another text. Sleep drifted back to you easily as you laid beside Josh, his chest rising and falling in an innate, comforting rhythm that willed you to close your eyes and let yourself rest for the first time in over a week. 

***

“The party is Wednesday,” Danny said, tilting a cup to his mouth where he stood in your kitchen, tapping the side of the cup to retrieve an ice cube from the bottom. “It’s an odd day for a party, but Josh insisted,” He shrugged. “It’s not the worst idea. The photoshoot for the album is Friday morning,” he explained. 

“I still can’t believe that you guys agreed to do album prep on their birthday,” you said, leaning against the kitchen island, popping grapes into your mouth. “They didn’t riot?” Danny shrugged.

“It was the only day to get the entire team together without conflicts. A shit ton of people in the middle of the desert? What could be more fun?” He snorted, reaching to steal one of your grapes. 

“We’ll celebrate Jake later that afternoon. You know he wasn’t interested in the whole party thing,” He continued. 

You nodded. “For twins, they’re so different,” you chuckled through your nose. 

“I grew up with them, Y/n. Trust me, they’re similar in the most annoying ways,” he smirked. “They can be ill-tempered jackasses one moment, and then cracking stupid jokes, laughing their asses off the next.”

You knowingly shook your head. “That’s what makes them artists, right?” You smirked. “Tortured souls make for wonderful art,” you snorted. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, straightening his back, reaching his arms in the air over his head, yawning. “I’m gonna call catering and make sure they have the weird ass food that Josh asked for.” 

You popped another grape in your mouth. “Good luck, and make sure to eat before you arrive,” you winked. 

“Oh you mean you don’t like tapenade, caviar, and topo chicos?” He said sarcastically. 

“When you put it all together like that, I’d rather eat sand,” You admitted, placing the rest of the fruit back into the fridge. “We will be limiting the menu of weird shit.”

Jake grinned as he dialed the number. You could hear the dial-tone through the speaker of the phone as he padded into the next room. 

You heard your phone ring in your pocket, but when you fished it out, the call ended. Unknown ID.

“Having a good day with Danny? I heard he’s single too. Maybe you’d want to double dip?” A new text read. Your eyes darted about, through the kitchen window into the spacious, wooded yard. You and Josh didn’t live in a suburban setting. Josh had been smart with this purchase. You had no idea how this person knew you were with Danny. You checked the front driveway for any suspicious activity, but you saw none. Nothing was out of place, and no one roamed about, besides a neighbor who was walking to their mailbox, checking their mail. They were late middle-aged, so immediately you shrugged them off as a plausible suspect. 

Fuck. You might have said the word audibly. You practically sprinted around the house, unplugging all of the Ring cameras one by one, making sure to reach inside to yank out the reserve batteries. 

“What’s wrong?” Danny asked, confusion knitting his brows together. You could vaguely hear the hold music tittering through his phone speaker. 

“I’m being watched,” you snipped, balling your hands in fists, feeling the batteries clack together.

“What?” He asked, his eyes widening. 

“Someone is stalking me.” You reached for your phone and showed him the text. 

You watched him read the text. “Are you sure it’s not just someone playing a joke on you? I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s Sam being an asshole.” You shook your head instantly.

“No. This is serious. Someone knows things that they shouldn't. They’re threatening me.” You said, instantly wishing you hadn’t opened your mouth about something so vulnerable and sensitive. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, hanging up the phone and shoving it in his back pocket. “They know about the album? About the tour?” He asked, trying to conjure up any information he could think of that has been kept secret and was worthy of this much worry. 

“No. It’s so much worse than that.” You admitted, feeling the simultaneous need to vomit and cry. 

“Did you do something?” He asked softly, stepping toward you. “I mean, did something happen?”

“Well not exactly,” You said, guilt stabbing and prodding from deep within your belly. Nervous sweat broke out on your brow. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently. “You can trust me, Y/n.”

“I don’t think I’m very trustworthy,” you said, an angry edge grating the statement, though you were only angry at yourself and at the unnamed stalker who had conjured back so much forgotten anxiety. “I did something awful to Josh, Danny.” 

You already said too much. 

“Okay…Did you cheat?” He asked. 

“Are you fucking serious? No!” You practically shouted, throwing your hands out defensively. 

“Okay, okay, don’t yell at me–” he snipped, echoing your movement as he yanked his palms in front of his body. “What is it, then?”

“I just don’t know how to tell Josh that–” You began, but were cut off promptly as the front door opened and Josh walked through it. 

“Tell me what?” He asked with a soft smile. You watched as he pushed the door shut and placed his key fob on the hook beside it. 

“Nothing–just a little snag. We don’t want to ruin the surprise, so we can’t tell you, sorry.” Danny said, saving you this once. You cleared your throat, finding it hard to speak. 

“We’ll fix it,” You accrued him, offering a small smile that seemed to vanish just as quickly as it appeared. 

“What happened?” Josh pressed further, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorway. 

“The caterer couldn’t find one of the things on your stupid list.” Danny said, grinning at Josh. “You’ll have to survive with one less…peculiar menu item.” Josh snorted. 

“Just as long as everyone’s there and makes it in one piece, It’ll be the perfect day,” Josh said, stepping closer to you, bending and pursing his lips. You tilted your head upward and kissed him softly, feeling the touch of his lips like a stake to the heart. This is wrong. So wrong–and he doesn’t deserve any of it.

“Oh shit, I forgot,” Josh said, suddenly scrambling for his phone. “What time is it?” Pulling it out of his pocket, his eyes widened. “Fuck–I gotta go get mom and dad from the airport! I’ll see you later?” Josh asked you, to which you nodded with a soft smile. He reached to pat Danny on the shoulder before snagging his keys off of the hook and booking it out of the door. 

Silence clung to the walls as they seemed to close in around you. Danny looked at you expectantly. You shook your head slowly, pulling your hands up to cover your face. 

“What is it, Y/n?” Danny asked, turning to you. “What happened?”

“Why did you do that?” You asked angrily. 

“Do what?” He retorted, his face twisting with confusion. 

“Why did you lie for me? You don’t even know what I did. I–” You shook your head, your throat tightening with an ache that burned. 

“Y/n. I am a safe person to talk to, but I also know that Josh is, as well.” 

“I can’t tell him. I absolutely cannot tell him.” 

“Tell him what? Just tell me.”

“I need a drink first.” You admitted without a hint of shame, pulling yourself into the kitchen to retrieve the nearest bottle of liquor. You pulled a glass out of the cabinet and poured freely, uncaring of the unreasonable amount of alcohol you were about to drink. 

“Y/n…don’t do that,” Danny said, stepping into the kitchen. In a moment of numbness, you lifted the glass to your lips and tilted it back, swallowing back the liquid, tasting the bitterness that assaulted your tastebuds. You wanted to cough and hack, but you resisted the urge, downing every drop. You wiped the excess from your lips and set the glass down, taking a second to breathe deeply. You would have done it again, had Danny not yanked the bottle from the counter. 

“Stop!” You spat, reaching up for the bottle, tears springing to your eyes. 

“This is not healthy!” He said loudly, battling for dominance over the desperation in your voice. He was tall, and you wouldn’t be able to reach it even if you wanted to.

“There’s always more,” you said, reaching into the cabinets to grab a bottle of tequila, uncorking it and pulling the bottle to your lips. 

“Y/n, fucking stop it!” He shouted this time, his voice filling the kitchen with a deafening command. His free hand wrenched the bottle from your grasp, liquid splashing over the rim and landing on the floor at your feet. You couldn’t conjure words to explain yourself or defend your actions, but the alcohol had begun its effects, easing your inhibitions. Uncontrollable sobs wracked your body, your chest heaving as you struggled to take in deep breaths, but every time you did, the choking noises became worse. Danny sat the bottles down onto the kitchen island. 

“Hey, hey,” He said as reached for you, tucking your body defensively into his chest. Your body crumpled, and you let yourself fall to the floor, knowing that Danny would protect you on the way down. You cried and cried and cried some more, your face drenched with tears. Danny used the cuff of his sleeve to wipe the tears from your eyes, holding you close and rubbing your back. “It’s okay, Y/n. It will be okay. Will you talk to me?” You heard him almost coo the words, coaxing the truth from you in a safe, nurturing way. You’d already decided that you would tell him, and you hoped that he would keep your secret until you could tell Josh. If he didn’t, it would just be yet another mistake you’d been stupid enough to make. What else did you have to lose?

“I-I,” you began, the sobs stealing your voice from you. You took a second to pull yourself together, pulling away from Danny to sit in front of him with your back against a cabinet door. “I lied to him.” 

“You lied?” He asked softly. You nodded, pulling your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs. 

“About what?”

“About who I am. I’m not a good person.” You shook your head left and right, sniffling. 

“I don’t think that’s true. I’ve known you long enough to know that it’s not true.” You looked up at him, and his eyes softened as he met your gaze. 

“But it is true. Danny, I knew who you guys were before I met Josh.” To your surprise, Danny’s expression didn’t change immediately. 

“Okay,” he said slowly. 

“I let Josh believe I had no idea who he was, when in truth, I knew exactly who he was.” The truth suddenly felt like the heaviest, but lightest thing you’d ever carried before. Simultaneously, a relief swept over your body, while the damning truth still weighed you down like a concrete block tied to your feet. 

“Okay, well, we are kinda….”

“Famous?” You asked, finishing his sentence, finding it the tiniest bit amusing just how humble Danny was. He shrugged. 

“I had a blog. About you guys. I wrote stories.” You said, continuing. You picked at your nail beds as you dove deeper. 

“Okay,” He said again, his eyebrows furrowing, trying to understand. “What kind of stories?”

“You don’t want to know.” You said, covering your face. “You can guess.” 

“Oh,” He answered. “I see.” 

“But I didn’t know you guys. I didn’t know Josh. I just knew your music…all of it came from my imagination, and now I have a stalker who’s trying to out me to Josh and to the entire fandom…”

“Wait, what?” He asked, sitting up straight. 

“I told you,” You said, pulling your phone open to the conversation with the number that you had previously blocked. “I blocked this number, but they keep texting me. Scroll.”

You watched his thumb slide across the screen, stopping when the screenshot of your tumblr page appeared. 

“Wow,” he said. You eyed him, and let him continue to read. 

“They knew where I was at the restaurant. The exact address.” You watched as he read the text. 

“Okay this is fucking creepy,” he said. “Did you report this to the police?”

“What would they do, Danny? There’s no one to connect this to. No names, no nothing. I’m absolutely powerless.”

“Okay, but you blocked them, right?” He asked. You nodded, and reached for your phone. 

“I did, but they created another number.” You opened the new text chain, showing him the text you had shown him earlier. “How do they know that you’re here, Danny?” You asked him, knowing he wouldn’t have an answer. 

“I don’t know. I didn’t post anything.” 

“They’re here. They’ve hacked the cameras….or they’re following me,” you said quietly, taking a second to look up out of the kitchen window at the darkening sky outside. “They’re threatening me.” 

“With what?” He asked.

“They’re going to tell Josh. Everyone. I know it.” 

“Then what’s the easiest solution?” He asked. “You have to tell him, and be honest about everything.” 

You nodded. “I don’t know how to tell him the truth. I can’t watch him fall apart in front of me, Danny.” He shrugged, sighing deeply. 

“Josh is sensitive when it comes to personal relationships and with trust. If he loves you like I know he does, he will understand–but only if you tell him.” 

You swallowed, feeling the ache in your throat becoming more prominent. A single tear teetered from your lashes, sliding down your cheek. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“You won’t,” Danny said, reaching forward toward you, pulling you in again. “He’s in love with you, Y/n. You have no idea. He kissed the top of your head. He’s one of the most understanding and forgiving people I know. He will appreciate you coming to him.” 

“The party is tomorrow,” you whined. “I’m going to ruin his party if I tell him right now.” 

“Then make the best decision that you can,” he said, pulling you up from the floor. “Let him have a good birthday and tell him afterwards, gently, when you two have a moment together.”

You pulled Danny in for a big hug. “I’m sorry for lying to you, too, Danny.” You hugged him tightly, and he reciprocated, squeezing you him. 

“It’s okay. Thank you for trusting me.” 

“Please let me be the one to tell Josh,” you pleaded. 

“I won’t say a word,” Danny said. “But don’t leave him in the dark, Y/n. I can’t leave my brother in the dark. It’s not fair.”

“I know it isn’t.”

“Do you feel safe here by yourself?” He asked you.

“Not really, but I’ll be okay. They’re not stupid enough to break and enter.” He smirked, reaching for his keys off of the island. 

“If you see anything funny, text me.” You nodded, reaching for the counter as wooziness challenged your balance. 

***

Josh arrived home later than you had expected, but you assumed that he had been with his parents. “I’m home, honey,” he said, bending to kiss your cheek as you pretended to be asleep, curled up in bed. You opened your eyes, taking a moment to observe the loveliness of his features, knowing that it could very well be the last time you’d see the love in his eyes. 

“Come here,” you commanded softly, peeling open the sheets. 

You spent that night making love with him, savoring every delicate touch, every kiss. Upon his lips, you’d uttered the words that you knew were true. “I love you.” It was the first time you had said it, and though you’d wished it was said under better, less ultimate circumstances, you wanted him to know. 

“I am in love with you, Y/n. I probably have been since that first day in the pasta aisle,” he chuckled. “I love you.” Your chest heaved, and before you could save it, a betraying tear rolled down your cheek, and he saw it. “Awe baby, don’t cry.” He leaned and kissed the wetness away, pulling you to his chest. It was simultaneously the happiest and most heartbreaking moment of your life. By this time tomorrow, it was likely that you’d be the undoing of it all. 

***

End of part 2.

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[builtbybrokenbells]

Poolsides & Pizza Boxes | JTK (1 of 2)

A friendly hangout and an innocent drinking game turns into a troublesome affair.

Read part two here.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 13.5k

Warnings: sexual situations, mentions of sexual frustrations, lots of sexual tension, like one smidgen of dry humping, embarrassing crushes, kissing/making out, awkward situations, play fighting, lots of friendly teasing, drinking, smoking, partying, swearing, a touch of angst, lots of fluff, sorry if i miss any! (stick around for part two for the rest 😉)

hi lovelies, I had a blast writing this! part two obviously is the more climactic part, but I hope you enjoy this for now. The next one should be out soon 🤍 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

The summer sun was blinding, irritating your eyes as you shielded them with your hand. Your skin was warm, the cool pool water long forgotten and the droplets dried into a distant memory. The drink sitting in the cup holder of your patio chair was condensated, the ice inside melting the longer you sat, and the music blaring through your speaker was playing a song you hadn’t heard in a long time. The moment was perfect, the summer day exactly what you had dreamed of in the slump of work that only ever seemed to grow larger. What made it even better was the crowd of boys sitting poolside, their feet in the water and beer bottles in their hands.

As you sipped at your straw, you watched as one of them stood, the water running from his legs onto the brand new concrete panels on the ground. You looked upwards, your eyes settling on his face as he turned away from his brothers and took a step in your direction. His brown hair hung over his shoulders, framing his face and blowing softly in the barely-there breeze. You couldn’t help but feel your lips turn upwards into a smile as he continued on his path, standing in front of you and casting a shadow over your chair.

“The sun looks good on you, you know.” He said, his hands anchored on his hips as he gazed down upon your lax position in the chair.

“What does that mean, Jacob?” You raised an eyebrow, looking over the top your sunglasses at him. There was a hint of a smile on his lips too, and you could see his skin of his chest and shoulders beginning to redden from the constant sunlight touching it.

“It means you look better in the sun than you do behind an office desk.” He continued, pushing an identical chair closer to you with his leg. He stopped when the arm collided with yours, sending the ice in your drink clinking against the plastic cup. He sat down, turning his head to look at you before speaking again. “It means we have to do this more often.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You sighed, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose. You rested your head against the wooden back of the chair, taking in a long breath. The summer air was sweet, lingering with the scent of the blossoming flowers Jake had helped you plant by the doorway just a few days prior. When the wind blew just right, you were hit in the face with his cologne still lingering on his skin, mixing with the last bit of sunscreen that refused to wash away after his pool escapades. The scent was familiar, it was comfortable, and it made you think of home.

“Makes me think you’re forgetting about me, sometimes.”

“Forgetting about you?” You scoffed, chuckling at the idea alone. “As if I could do that even if I wanted to. And how does that make any sense? You’re here every fuckin’ day anyway.” At that, he let out a laugh, one that shook his shoulders and echoed through the air.

“Yeah, but hanging out with you is much different than listening to you talk on a boring conference call from across the room.” He brought the cap of his beer to the edge of the arm on his chair. After a few seconds spent positioning it correctly, he slammed his hand down on top of it. The cap popped off, clanging down on the concrete, and bubbles overflowed from the neck of the bottle. With a mischievous smile, he flicked his hands towards you. You jumped in surprise as the cold liquid hit your warm skin, sending him a glare that spoke louder than any words. “You moved halfway across the country so you could be near us again, and all you do is work.”

“Mhm,” you let out a hum, your lips pressed tightly together as you wiped away the droplets of beer from your chest. “You travel all over the world for months at a time, but you don’t hear me complain about it.” He shot you an incredulous look, shaking his head in disbelief that you would even say such a thing.

“Yeah, I do actually. Every minute of every day that I’m gone.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” You dismissed him, closing your eyes as you fought back a smile.

“I can pull up the texts if you’d like,” he said, reaching for the patio table on the other side of you to grab his phone. As he did, you grabbed his wrist, holding his hand back so he could not proceed any further. “And the phone calls.” He let out a long breath, upping his extravagance to bring extra attention to his point. He didn’t cower under your hold, but he didn’t try to move again. “It always goes something like—‘oh, Jake, when are you coming home? I miss you so much’ or ‘only three more sleeps!’” He put on an airy, high pitched voice as he recounted the things you said to him most often.

“Oh, so that’s how we’re going to do this?” You asked, sitting up in your chair and turning towards him. “You don’t want me to start.” You warned, still holding his wrist tightly in your hand.

“Oh, yeah, whatever.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed. “What about you? Calling me at three in the morning ‘cause you couldn’t sleep, or when you have a little too much to drink and you miss the sound of my voice?”

“Yeah, like I’d miss the sound of your annoying little ‘Jacob Kiszka’s’! You’re worse than my mom when you call!” He put an extra flair on his voice as he imitated you, striking a flame of annoyance within you.

“Maybe if you’d behave yourself when you’re gone, I wouldn’t have to—“

“Hey!” Josh shouted, turning his head back towards the two of you. “Stop fighting with each other. You’re ruining the vibes.” He motioned to the still, blue water of the pool, illuminated with sun rays.

“He started it.” You grumbled, letting go of his arm and pushing it away from yourself at the same time.

“I don’t care who started it, I’m finishing it!” Josh snipped, taking a sip of his drink. “Worse than children, the two of you.” He let out a disappointed tsk.

“Yes, mom.” You hung your head low with faux shame.

“Sorry, mom.” Jake joined, copying your actions. When Josh turned back to the pool, you could see Jake peeking over at you through the strands of his hair. You bit down on the inside of your lip, stifling the laugh that was rising in your throat. Then, in a hushed whisper, you could hear a grating sound coming from his lips. When you strained to listen, you could he him muttering words, mocking his twin brother for his inability to have fun.

The laugh that tore from your chest was loud, irritating, and disruptive to everyone sitting in the immediate vicinity. Your shoulders shook and your stomach ached from the laughter coursing through you. Josh whipped his head back around, his eyes settling on Jake with a scowl on his lips.

“Is he making fun of me? I know he’s making fun of me.” Josh huffed, ready to argue worse than what the two of you were doing moments before.

“No, Josh. Pinky promise that nobody was making fun of you.” You gave him a sweet smile, sipping at your straw.

“You always take his side!” Josh accused, still joking but spewing some truth about the situation.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side!” You defended, raising your hands in the air.

“F’course you are, ‘cause your in love with him!” Josh grumbled, frustrated at your constant insistence on having Jake’s back and not his.

“I am not!” You exploded, looking to the chair beside you. Jake was unbothered by the thought, amused by the situation unfolding before his eyes, and happy the attention was off him and on you, instead.

“Are too!” Sam joined in, using his foot to reel in one of the pool floaties. As he did, he slid from the poolside on top of the tube. After he situated himself, he pushed himself away from the side and floated to the middle of the water.

“Do you hear yourselves? Are you insane?” You fought off the accusations like your life depended on it, your cheeks burning red and your stomach twisted with embarrassment.

You weren’t sure why it was such a sore subject, but every time they spoke the idea into existence, your whole body felt like it would explode if you didn’t get yourself out of the spotlight.

“Look at her, she’s blushing.” Daniel cackled, his head turned just enough to see your face.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jake cut in, realizing that you were more uncomfortable than they thought. “Josh, you’re just mad she broke up with you in the third grade. Let it go, man.” Jake said, watching as Josh’s expression dropped into one of great confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. His lips dipped into a frown, then he turned back towards the pool, lifting himself off the ground by his arms and sinking into the water.

Even if the other three knew they were in the right, they were never a match for the two of you when you joined forces against them.

When everyone distracted themselves with drinks and swimming, easily moving on from the moment of torment, Jake reached his arm out to you. He brushed the hair away from your shoulders, letting his hand rest on the back of your neck. The touch was calming, and when his fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of your neck, gently scratching over your head, you nearly forgot what had you upset in the first place. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned back into the chair.

“They’re just being assholes, trouble.” The nickname fell from his lips, smooth like silk and sweet as sugar. You could listen to him call you that all day and you were certain you would never get tired of it. “They don’t mean it, they just like to get under your skin.”

“I know.” You hummed, lost in the feeling of his hand on your neck. “Just don’t like it when they team up on me, is all. I know they’re just joking.”

And you did; they had been joking about the same thing since the summer before freshman year of high school, when you had spent every single day following Jake around like a second shadow. It would have hurt you more had he not been doing the exact same thing to you, and it would have been unbearable if you actually did feel that way about him. Back then, you laughed it off, and so did he. Both of you knew the notion was incredibly incorrect, and neither of you were too concerned about the constant teasing that came along with having a best friend of the opposite sex in a small town during your high school years.

In fact, nothing really bothered you much. There was nothing in the world that seemed to be able to tear the two of you apart, and no rumors or suspicious whispers ever changed the dynamics of your relationship. He was your best friend, and to this day, the simple fact remained the same. After a fateful encounter at the soccer field at the school on a warm July morning, the two of you got to know each other beyond what’s expected of familiar faces. You realized you had a whole hell of a lot in common, and within seconds, you realized that friendship with Jake Kiszka was a prized possession you never wanted to give up.

You knew each other beforehand, seeing each other in class and of course, the disastrous heartbreak of his twin brother in the fall of third grade (the relationship only lasted two weeks, but he really liked you), but never explored the possibilities of friendship until that summer.

Since then, you had never known anything else.

You spent days in his bedroom, watching him (poorly) play the new guitar his dad bought for him and watching movies that would quickly turn into memories that served you great comfort. He would walk your dog with you, and occasionally get ice cream with you at the corner store down the street when you both managed to scrape together enough change. When the school year started, you were his crutch for academics, and he was your’s for anything social. Before him, you didn’t have many friends, and the idea of high school always struck a sensitive nerve within you. With him by your side, you never felt like you had to worry about a thing. He held your hand through your first (real) heartbreak, and you helped him practice asking out girls to the school dances.

As you grew older, life changed, but never your friendship. Summers were the same, only with a little more freedom. You went on road trips when you felt your third-hand car could survive it, and got your older brother to buy you booze for house parties. You dated plenty of people, but none of the relationships ever lasted. Plenty of tears were shed, lots of memories were made, and one thing forever remained constant; his presence in your life, and his unwavering support. He wiped away the tears, shared the bottle of vodka, and always knew where to find you when a slow song came over the loudspeaker so he could get at least one dance in at the parties.

It was a relationship everyone yearned for, yet not many got to enjoy. It was a love that was never broken, and one that was never misused. It was the knowledge of never being alone, and knowledge that you never had to fall, because there would always be someone to catch you. More importantly, it was knowing that even if you did fall, and if you fell as far as rock bottom, he would wait beside you until you were back on your feet. You loved Jake for many things, but his support was unlike anything else. He always let you feel your way, figure it out yourself before he tried to fix it for you. He encouraged you to stand, rather than picking you up. It allowed you to learn, to make mistakes you needed to, but you never had to do it alone.

Jake Kiszka was the kind of person everyone wanted in their life, and you were the one lucky enough to have him around. It was a constant reminder to appreciate him, but it was also a constant question of what you ever did to deserve him.

The love carried you through to the very end of senior year, and all the way to a bittersweet goodbye. All of the support you had given to each other encouraged you enough to follow your dreams. The only downside was that your dreams could not happen overnight, and you could not complete them alongside each other. You loved each other so much that it forced you away from each other, but you both knew that staying together in fear of losing would only make you lose even more.

With teary eyes, he stood outside your car that was packed with your whole life, holding you in his arms until the very last second. With a kiss on the head, he sent you across the country with a reminder that he would always be your biggest fan, even if he was not there to tell you. You drove for hours, remembering the sight of the four boys waving you off at the end of your driveway, and did not stop until you landed in front of a dorm room and you were too exhausted to shed another tear.

You drive home on holidays, spending as much time with him as you could, but time was a thief, and you never had as much time as you wanted. Every visit home, and with every road trip across the country he took to see you, things were different. Never love, but life. He was older, his hair longer and his face prettier (how, you did not know). He watched as university tried and failed to beat you down, and you watched as his biggest dreams began to come true. As beautiful as it was, the distance was a killer. You hated seeing him show up at your door, just slightly different than he looked the last time. You were tired of going home and realizing how much had changed.

When you graduated, he was living in Nashville, just signed on by a bigger label and preparing to travel the world. Still, despite his growing popularity and never ending excitement, he never forgot about you. He showed up with a bouquet of flowers and a single suitcase, RSVPing the invitation as soon as he received it. He spent four days with you, laughing and crying, staying up until odd hours of the morning in an attempt to cling to the memory just a little longer. He told you he was going to start touring, and that he was scared he would lose you. You laughed and shook your head, knowing you would call and text him every spare minute you had.

Distance tried hard to tear the two of you apart the first time, and was determined to do it the second. Thankfully the two of you were strong enough to withstand it, and you knew that no matter how hard the years tried to change you, one thing remained certain; Jake would always be your best friend, no matter how far away he was.

You settled in Oregon for a few years, working outside with the environmental science degree you had bled for. He continued to travel the world, playing stages for thousands of people and releasing music he’d dreamed of writing since he was old enough to walk. You called, texted, and every now and again, visited each other. Life was good, simple and fun, but it didn’t feel right.

You had no idea why it felt that way, until you broke down on the phone with Jake as you confessed how badly you missed him.

That’s when things began to change.

He showed up, 85 hours later and running on zero sleep. With little plans and no real answer to your problems, he appeared at your front door, willing to do anything he could to take away the ache in your chest. It was a night full of tears, both of you drunk off wine and the feeling of being together again. In your bed in a run-down one bedroom apartment, he asked you to move to Nashville. After years of keeping silent, he admitted to how bad it was to be away from you. He offered you a place to stay and help looking for a job, and anything you could ever possibly need so long as you were living in the same city as him.

At first, you laughed.

Three weeks later, he flew back to Oregan with his brothers in tow and helped you pack up your life all over again.

This time, for good.

His brothers flew back to Nashville after the brunt of the work was done, but he stayed so he could drive with you. Standing in the driveway of the apartment complex where you had spent the last two years of your life, things seemed the same as they always did. You and your best friend against the world, ready to face a whole new and exciting chapter. As soon as he got behind the wheel of the car, assuring you he would drive the first half of the way, it was different.

Jake was not your childhood best friend who you shared scraped knees and melting ice cream cones with. He wasn’t the boy who used to play guitar for you in his parents basement, nor was he the one who walked your dog with you on those hot summer days. He was a man who was willing to drop everything in his (extremely) busy life to travel halfway across the country to make you happy. He was a man who was more beautiful than you could remember, and he was a man you were willing to drop your entire life for just to be with him again.

He was the same person, and so were you, but this time, everything changed.

You were in love with him, and so impossibly so that it made your head spin and your stomach sick.

You made a vow to secrecy, knowing if he ever found out, the world would never be the same. Losing him was not something you were ever willing to consider, because he was the only constant you ever had in the ever-changing world. For six months, you bargained with the feelings while sleeping in his spare room (some nights) and ate dinner with him at his kitchen table. Most of the time, especially at the beginning, you fell asleep in his bed while you watched terribly filmed and scripted YouTube documentaries in his bed, and you woke up with his arm slung across your waist and his head buried in your neck. You tried to tell yourself that with time, the fleeting feeling would pass and you would consider yourself ridiculous for ever thinking you felt that way about him, but that time never came. When he left for tour, gone for weeks at a time, you missed him more terribly than you ever had despite living in his home with his memory seared into every corner.

The reunions were sweeter, the hugs longer and the warmth in your heart larger than ever before. It was a dangerous game to play, because it was so hard to keep it to yourself. You knew that if things continued the way they had been going, you’d be forced down on one knee with a ring in your hand, begging for marriage.

So, a reluctant conversation surfaced after the third night in a row you had fallen asleep next to him. It was not the conversation you wanted to have, but it was one you needed to have. You sat him down, telling him with faux happiness that you had enough money to put a down payment on a house a few blocks away. You expected him to rejoice, to celebrate the victory of home ownership with you and jump to help you move out, but he did none of those things. Instead, he forced a tight-lipped smile on his face after he cleared his throat. He gave one, firm nod and reached across the table to grab your hand.

“I didn’t know you were looking.” He said, his sadness equal to a punch in the stomach. “I would have let you live here forever, you know. I never wanted you to move out.”

You had so many questions, ones that you did not know if you wanted an answer to. You looked down at his hand in yours, wondering how you had gotten yourself in such a position. You had fallen for the one person you knew you shouldn’t, and you couldn’t bear the thought of the consequences, which is why you forced yourself to buy the fixer-upper, anyway.

Had you gotten it wrong? Did he feel the same as you did?

You were too cowardly to ask, and a month later, you had enlisted the help of the four boys to renovate a house you weren’t even that keen on living in. With five of you, the work was pretty fast, but that was the worst part of it all. After seeing Jake’s reaction to you telling him you were moving out, you wanted to stay, to drag the renovations out for as long as humanly possible, but you knew they would catch on. Instead of dwelling on all of the things you should have said, you focused on what you were going to have. Luckily, the house renovations were mostly aesthetic, and it was done within a few weeks. By the end of it, you were excited to have something of your own to do whatever you pleased with.

Then, Jake had to suggest a fucking pool.

You were happy, content with having everything finished and being moved in (and more importantly, moved out of his house). Things finally seemed to go back to normal, no waking up next to a boy who made your heart beat a little too fast, and no dinners bordering too close to romance.

But it was boring, and you made the mistake of complaining about it.

“It’ll be a great housewarming gift, y/n.” He said, his arms outstretched as a shit-eating grin encased his (infuriatingly) beautiful face.

“Jacob, I don’t need a pool. Besides, I spent all of my money tearing out the carpet and buying the ‘real’ wooden panel flooring that Sam insisted I needed.” You argued, looking down at the expensive flooring with a scowl on your lips. “Stupid fuckin’ wood.”

“That was your fault for listening to Sam in the first place!” He exclaimed, looking around the empty living room. “And besides, do you even know what a gift is? It means someone gives it to you, because they bought it.”

“You’re not buying me a pool, Jacob Kiszka.”

“You’re right,” he gave a slow nod, looking at the fenced in backyard through the large living room windows. “I’m not going to buy you a pool. I’m going to pay a bunch of men to build one!”

Turns out that building a pool is much more costly than he previously anticipated. You figured he would scrap the idea entirely and just buy you an inflatable kiddie pool on your birthday to keep true to his word. You would have been fine with it —no, you would have been more than happy with it. You weren’t sure you could accept such a grandois show of affection from a man you were trying so hard not to have feelings for, but you knew better than to expect the bare minimum from Jake. In the ten or so years of knowing him, he had never stooped as low as the bare minimum.

So he suggested the two of you do the brunt of the work together, then he would pay someone to do the rest.

The issue was, neither of you had any idea how to build a pool (or start to, for that matter) and that entailed a surplus of quality time that you moved out specifically to avoid.

But, you had never been able to say no to Jake, especially when his eyes grew soft and his bottom lip jutted out into a small pout. Puppy dog eyes were your kryptonite, and from him, you were sure it would be your demise.

After a few weeks of digging up ground and clearing your backyard, the area was finally sufficient to hire someone to finish the job. Not long after that, the concrete was poured and set, and soon enough, what used to be a grassy patch had become a pool that was much more expensive than you ever could have afforded.

“This is too much, Jake. I can never even begin to repay you for this.” You said, a hand on your head as your facial features twisted with stress. It was stunning, inviting, and your favourite part of the entire home, and it was all thanks to him.

“You don’t need to repay me, trouble. I wanted to do it.” He said, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he pulled you into his side. The action made your heart flutter and your stomach fill with butterflies. “Do you know how fun it’s going to be? We can get Sam some arm floaties and Josh a life jacket, then we can have so many pool parties.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the blue water.

“I ask myself the same thing about you, every day.” His hand on your upper arm tightened ever so slightly as he spoke. “You dropped your entire life to move to Nashville, Y/N, just so we could be together again. Do you have any idea how much that means to me? Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?” You turned your head upwards, looking over his face. His head was already turned down and he seemed to have been staring at you for some time.

“I love you, Jake.” You mumbled, giving him a smile. If only he knew how true the words really were.

“I told you a pool was a great idea, trouble.” Jake said, clearly trying to take your mind off Josh’s teasing. You crossed your arms over your chest, the still-damp material of your bikini top sticking to your dry skin as you did so.

“I’m not going to say it, Jake.” You huffed, standing your ground. He’d been trying to get you to tell him he was right since the day the pool was finished, but you had bit your tongue and held back every time. “Your head is big enough as is. No need for me to inflate your ego even more.”

“Oh, so that’s how you want to be?” He asked, sitting up in his chair. His eyebrows were knitted together as his eyes silently begged you to retract the rude statement.

“That’s how I’m going to be, yeah.” You nodded, unwilling to back down. “What’s it to you?”

“You know, I’ve always been so nice to you, and I’m just supposed to take this abuse?” He continued, making a move to stand. He sat his beer on the table on the opposite side of you, raising to his feet with a slight sway. You could tell the summer heat was mixing with the alcohol in his system, and he was feeling good. In truth, you weren’t far behind him in the drunken race.

“Yeah, I’m just the worst, Jake. I’m so mean to you.” You laughed, looking up at him as he stood over you. His shadow casted a chill over you, making you realize you hadn’t moved from the sun soaked seat in hours.

“You said it, not me.” He said, his hands on his hips as he continued to tower over you. “Are you going to take it back?”

“Fuck no!” You laughed, placing your drink beside you in case he made any sudden moves that caused a spill. “I’m not going to tell you that you were right, and I’m not going to take it back. You have an ego problem, Jacob, and I think it’s time you realized it. You don’t have to be right all of the time.” The sass in your tone was completely humorous, used only to irritate him further.

Even as you two found yourself in a mock-fight, you couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the picture before you. His sun-kissed skin was glowing under the rays, and his dark hair was tousled perfectly after it had dried from his pool escapades. There was a slight wave to it, and the wind was blowing it away from his face. His shirtless chest was catching your attention, but not nearly as much as the peek of a v-line from his swim trunks, and the patch of hair under his belly button leading to the hem of the fabric. Your heart sped as you remembered what it felt like with his chest pressed to your back and his hand resting on your hip while he was sleeping away the earliest hours of the morning.

Either he did not notice your staring, or he did and he opted not to call you out on it. You were happy either way, because not even being caught staring at Jake was an embarrassment anymore. It happened so often that you felt odd when your eyes weren’t on him. Before you could digest his eyes on you in the same way, he was leaning down with outstretched arms. With ease, one of his arms slid around your lower back. He shifted to the side, hooking his other arm under your thighs. With a swift motion, he lifted you off the chair. You let out a shriek of discontent, knowing exactly where his mind was as he straightened himself up. Now that he was holding you, he seemed all the more steady on his feet, almost as if he was terrified to drop you.

“Jacob Kiszka, do not throw me in that pool or I swear to god—“

“Or what?” He mocked you, cutting you off as he took two steps away from the chair. Your arms slung around his neck, holding on tightly as he clambered closer to the poolside. “What are you gonna do, trouble?”

“I don’t know, but it won’t be good!” You fought against his hold, trying to shake out of his grasp and land back on your feet.

“Oh, I’m so scared!” He laughed, his feet now at the very edge of the pool. “Say it, trouble! Last chance!”

“Never!” You fought back, feeling your body already tense in anticipation of the cold water on your skin.

“Throw her, Jake!” Josh cheered in the background, lingering in the deep end by the side so he avoided the splash zone. He was laughing at the sight of the two of you, always amidst some kind of argument. Jake looked over his shoulder at his brother, smirking at the encouragement.

Josh had a knowing look in his eye, his feelings completely unspoken but apparent to the boy standing over the pool. He knew, just as well as Danny and Sam did. Even as Jake tried to play it cool, and as you deflected every accusation, love completely surrounded the two of you wherever you went.

“Josh, what the hell! You’re supposed to be on my side!” You pleaded, frantic for someone to stop him before he let go.

“Do it, Jake!” Danny yelled over the sound of your voice, laughing as he watched your head whip towards him.

“You guys fucking suck-“ before you could finish your angry sentiments, you felt Jake’s arms move upwards. You took in a sharp breath, holding it as you prepared yourself for him to follow through with throwing you in the water.

But, you had always been the one to get the last laugh.

As he tossed you forward, you tightened your arms around him. As your body pulled away from his, your arms stayed locked behind him, causing him to stumble with the force he’d thrown you with. You heard a laugh leave his lips as your ass touched the surface of the pool, and not long after you were fully submerged in the water. You were barely able to contain your laughter when Jake fell into the water on top of you. When you swam to the surface, you noticed that he did not join you. You looked down into the water, nervous that you might have hurt him, but you did not have to think of it for very long; his hands reached for your thighs as he swam towards you, and with one strong motion, he pulled you back under the water again.

Smiling and holding your breath, you tried your best to fight his hold. After a few seconds of a futile attempt, he loosened his grip and the both of you resurfaced. With his arms still around you and his hair covering his face, he guided you towards the shallow end before he pulled you into his chest. His breathing was ragged, still recovering from the minutes underwater. You relaxed against him, finding yourself breathless for a whole different reason.

“Good one, trouble.” He muttered, pushing his hair away from his face. The water droplets streaming down his cheeks only made him all the more inviting, and his hand on your barely clothed hip was driving you crazy. He reached out, brushing the stray hairs away from your face, in no hurry to move away from you.

“The pool was a good idea, Jake.” You whispered, smiling at him. His lips parted slightly as he tried to process what you were saying to him, and after a few seconds, you saw his eye twitch as he held back a grin.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He said, turning his head to the side so his ear was closer to your mouth.

“Don’t make me say it again.” You groaned, but you were still smiling despite your annoyance.

“Just one more time?” He pleaded, his fingers tightening on your hip as he asked. It was absent minded, almost as if it was natural for him to touch you so intimately. He didn’t even seem to think twice about it, and he certainly didn’t seem keen on breaking the hold.

“Fine,” you huffed, unable to deny the man of anything he asked for. “You were right about the pool.”

“Sorry, trouble. Can you speak up? I really can’t hear you.” He said, a laugh stuck in his throat as he continued the bit.

“Oh, fuck you, Jake.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at him.

“—I’m not paying a delivery fee when I have two working legs!” Your attention was drawn to the poolside yet again, and as you looked past Jake to see what the commotion was about, you could have sworn you felt Jake move to be just a little bit closer to you. “Can you think? Do you ever use your head?” Sam continued, flicking Josh on the forehead to solidify his stance on the matter. Josh swatted his hand away, clearly annoyed with his actions but trying to keep his composure.

“Ten dollars is really going to kill you? Ten fucking dollars?” Josh fought back, his eyebrows knitted together similar to how Jake’s looked when he was upset. Jake turned fully, sliding his arm around you so he did not have to lose contact while he watched his brothers argue. You couldn’t help but feel the familiar swarm of butterflies overtake your stomach once again.

“Maybe it is, ‘cause it’s ten dollars I don’t have to spend!”

“You’re cheap, Sam.” Josh responded, his lips turning down into a frown.

“It’s okay. We can walk, it’s not that far.” Daniel said, breaking the tension with a hand on both of their shoulders. “We can stop at the corner store and grab another case of beer on the way back.” Danny offered. “They won’t deliver that, anyway.” With a huff through his nose, Josh eventually gave a nod.

“Fine, we can walk, but that’s not my point.” He said, stepping away from the two to grab his wallet and his shirt. “You know I’m right, you just won’t admit it.” He pointed a finger at Sam, his tone grave.

“God, you two really are twins.” You whispered, looking sideways at Jake.

“What can I say? We’re stubborn.” Jake gave a slight shrug of his shoulder.

“That’s putting it lightly.” You giggled, turning back to the three standing together.

“We’re going to get pizza,” Josh announced. “And we’re walking, because ten dollars split five ways is just too much for Sam.” You stifled a laugh, biting down on the inside of your lip so you did not further the tension in the air. “And we’re going to the gas station, I guess. Care to join?” Josh asked, looking suspiciously between the two of you. You glanced at Jake, waiting for him to answer first. When he realized all three of them were staring at you, he slowly removed his arm from your waist.

“No, I’ll stay, I think.” He cleared his throat, looking at you as he awaited your response.

“Yeah, me too.” You nodded, forcing a small smile despite your anxiety about the situation you’d found yourselves in.

“Figures.” Josh gave a cheeky smile, slipping his shirt over his head. “We’ll be back, please don’t forget that.” He continued as the other two boys stepped towards the fence gate. You felt your cheeks burn, looking down towards the water to avoid the staring. “You guys want anything? As long as Sam doesn’t deem it too expensive to buy?”

“Shove it, Josh.” Sam muttered, unlatching the metal lock as he pushed open the wooden door. “Be back soon!” He called over his shoulder as the other two followed him out. When the gate slammed closed, the lock clicked itself shut, sealing the two of you alone inside your backyard.

You shook your head, chuckling at the scene that had just unfolded before looking over to your best friend, who already seemed to find himself staring at you. Without a word, you took a few steps forward in the water, reaching out for the floatie Sam had abandoned when pizza was mentioned. Jake followed closely behind you, likely scheming another way to disrupt your day of relaxation. You pulled the brightly coloured tube towards you, steadying yourself as you centered it with your body. With one strong push, you pulled yourself up out of the water and lurched forward, heaving a sigh of relief as you landed on the tube. You turned around, careful not to fall off, and settled your ass in the middle. With a small smile, you relaxed and let your arms hang over the side, your fingers grazing the surface of the water as you looked up at the sky.

Jake was beside you, smiling to himself as he watched you. “You look comfortable.” He noted, propping his arms on the side of the floatie and resting his chin on it as he gazed up at your face.

“I am.” You agreed, looking at him through the corner of your eye. “And I’d like to stay that way, if you don’t mind.”

“You always think the worst of me, sweetheart.” He laughed quietly to himself, seemingly lost in thought about something other than the topic at hand. “Do you remember the year we bought that cheap inflatable pool? We put it in your backyard and sat in it all summer.”

“Yeah,” you laughed at the thought, closing your eyes as you recalled the memory. “It was that summer before senior year. My car broke down on the way to Walmart. Took us all damn day to even get the thing.”

“We got it though, after Josh came to the rescue.” He reminded you.

“That pool was like four feet wide, max. I have no idea how the two of us even fit in it.” You grinned. “And it looked like a watermelon. The cashier thought we were idiots.”

“Because we are.” He laughed, turning his head to the side so his cheek was laying on his arm and his eyes were stuck on you.

“Yeah, we were.” You nodded, bringing your hand to his face and brushing the stray hairs away from his eyes. You knew you shouldn’t, and that the touch was too intimate for a friendly relationship, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to touch him all of the time and never have to worry about anything else.

“Did you ever think we would end up here, in a real pool, living as sort-of neighbors almost ten years later?” He asked, reminiscing on the years of memories shared between the two of you.

“No.” You shook your head, only telling him a half-truth. You didn’t think you would end up like this, but you had always hoped you would. Actually, you always hoped you would end up like you were months before, living together in the same home, sharing a bed every night. Although you had what you once dreamed of, it wasn’t in the way you wanted it to be. As much as you enjoyed your brief stay at Jake’s house, you knew it was for the best that you left. You couldn’t keep hoping for love when you knew it wasn’t possible. You couldn’t open yourself up to the idea, because you couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him.

“I miss you living with me.” He confessed, his cheeks rosy from the liquor coursing through his veins. He would never have harnessed the courage to admit it sober, but he felt like he needed to get it off his chest, just in case you felt the same. “My bed is weirdly empty without you in it.” You felt frozen in place, his words hitting you much harder than they should have. You didn’t want to speak, fearful that the moment meant more to you than it did to him, so instead you sat, staring at him with parted lips and surprise in your eyes. “Sorry, that was weird. I didn’t mean—“

“S’okay, Jake.” You smiled, letting your hand fall from his face to his bicep. You gave his arm a small squeeze, reassuring him that it was alright. “I miss it too. I think I jumped the gun with buying a house. It’s nice, and I am excited, but it’s lonely, I guess.”

“Why did you leave?” He asked, the words coming out too quick for him to possibly stop them. As you looked over his expression, you realized it was a question he’d been dying to ask since you told him that you were moving out.

“Oh,” you breathed, swallowing hard as you tried to come up with a quick lie. “I, uh, I didn’t want you to get sick of me. I felt bad, like I was a freeloader and you were doing charity work.” You forced a smile on your face, trying to make the situation lighter by joking, but he didn’t seem to take it as such. His eyebrows furrowed, and a flash of pain crossed his eyes.

“You know I would never feel that way, Y/N. I waited for you, you know? Till you were finished school, for when you had a job and you knew what you wanted to do… I waited for you to call me and tell me you wanted to be with me again.” Your heart sped and your stomach sunk. As sweet as the sentiment was, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow defensive over the idea. He was being far too romantic for a man who never once seemed keen on being more than friends.

“I just… I had to, Jake, okay?” You rushed out, scared he would back you into a corner and make you confess the one thing you wanted to keep secret. The pain on his face made you regret the words immediately, and you knew that fighting was the last thing you wanted to do. “I’m sorry.” You breathed, trying to focus and understand the jumble of words plaguing your brain. You wanted to be honest, to tell the truth, but every time you came close, you thought you might be sick. “I loved living with you, Jake. I think it was the happiest I’ve ever been, but I don’t want you to get sick of me, and I think that being roommates with someone you love so much is a tricky thing. I… losing you would be the worst thing in the whole world.”

“You’re ridiculous, Y/N.” His words were harsh, but his lips were upturned into a smile. “In all of the years I’ve known you, I’ve never been sick of you, and I never will be.” He said, the certainty in his tone making your head spin. “But hey, we got a pool. That has to count for something.” You liked the sound of his words, making it seem like you two were more than best friends. If not a couple, then definitely a team.

“We did get a pool.” You grinned, only slightly guilty that you had such a hard time returning his sweet words.

As always, you were terrified that it would mean something different to him than it did to you.

“You know what the best thing about a pool is?” He asked, his eyes scanning the still surface of the water.

“Hmm?” You hummed, naive to believe his question was innocent.

“It makes it so easy to annoy you.” He answered, giving you no time to register his words before he backed away from the tube and dipped his hands below it. With a strong push, he flipped it over and sent you tumbling into the water again.

You were so shocked at the suddenness of his actions that you forgot to hold your breath, finding yourself choking on water as you forced your way back to the surface. When your head popped back up, you were too busy coughing to notice Jake’s echoing laughter. When he noticed your distress, the amusement disappeared and concern replaced it. He pushed the tube out of the way, swimming towards you as you continued to clear your lungs of any water that remained.

“Hey,” Jake said, now in front of you as he reached out to hold you. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking over your face as you took in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, trouble. I was just messing around.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” You nodded, noticing the closeness of his body as his hands lingered on your arms. “You’re a dick.” You snipped, fully recovered as a grin blossomed on your cheeks.

“Seriously, you’re okay?” He disregarded your insult completely, still concerned with your well-being.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nodded, reaching out and placing a hand on his side under the water to reassure him of the fact. He was so close, so comfortable and alluring. You couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from him, remembering how nice the physical contact felt with him. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to part ways with you, either, his eyes locked with yours and his hands anchored in position.

Instead of dwelling on the yearning of your heart, you took advantage of the moment and used all of the force you could muster to push him. He lost his footing under the pressure and stumbled backwards, his upper half crashing into the water as he sank below the surface with a splash. With a laugh stuck in your throat, you watched him fight his way above water as he suffered through your revenge. When he was back on his feet, there was a fire in his eyes and a devious smile on his face.

“No, Jake, we’re even now.” You pleaded, pointing a finger of warning in his direction as he began to move towards you.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded, clearly in disagreement with you.

“Seriously, stop!” You exclaimed, backing away from him as he closed in on you. Before you could get away, he was in front of you and his hands landed on your hips. In a moment of desperation, you locked your legs around his waist as he lifted you off your feet, cementing the idea in his head that if you went down, he was coming with you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as closely as you could to deter his attack. “I swear to god, Jake, stop!” You let out a shriek of laughter, preparing for his unforgiving nature one last time, but it never came.

Instead, he seemed frozen in place, immobile from the position you had forced upon him. When the adrenaline faded and you understood he was making no further effort to dunk you under the water, your sanity returned and so did your self-awareness. In your desperation to avoid his shenanigans, you had clung to him in such a way that his face was settled on your chest, and your legs wrapped around him so tightly that you had put him in a very compromising position. If that wasn’t enough to embarrass you, your actions not only seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, but a growing problem in his pants. A problem that was so imminent you could feel it.

You were certain he could feel your heartbeat through your chest as his chin rested on top of your breasts, propped up by the padded material of your bikini top. Your hands tangled in the hair on the back of his neck did not make the scene any less explicit than it already was, and perhaps the worst part of it all was that shame seemed like a far away feeling, covered completely by need for him. For a moment, you weren’t lifelong best friends, nor were you afraid of any consequences. You were a woman consumed with desire for the person below you, and it seemed as though he was a man gone mad. You feared you had the signal mixed up, that you were so lost in your own feelings for him that you were confusing his feelings for you. Then, his hands on your hips slid backwards, cautious and careful as his grip settled on your ass.

You took in a shaky breath, the touch electrifying your entire body. In reaction, without thinking, you shifted downwards on him. Somewhere deep in his chest, a low groan sounded as his fingers tightened on you. The skimpy bikini bottoms left little to the imagination as he pulled you down on him further, his cock pressing against your clothed core. Your eyes fluttered closed, wondering if you were dreaming or if the euphoric feeling of being so close was actually a reality. You turned your head downwards, finding him already looking up at you with an unfamiliar look in his eye. He straightened his upper half, his face lifting from your chest and advancing unusually close to your own. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as the tip of his nose brushed against yours, and it was driving you close to insanity.

You wanted to taste him, to feel his lips on yours and explore the possibilities that were presenting themselves. You could feel how hard he was, how badly he needed the relief similar to yourself. Your mouth was watering at the idea of feeling him, and you were aching at the fantasy of finally having him in a way you only ever dreamed of.

The tips of his fingers traced the outline of your bikini bottoms, curious and eager to go further. Why wasn’t he pulling away? Why was he letting this go so far without saying a word to stop it? Could he really feel the same way? There were too many questions, and you did not care much for the answer as you lowered your hips on him a little further. As you did so, the friction from the movement gave you a sense of relief. A quiet whine forced its way through your teeth, and you were unable to stop it before it reached his ears.

“Careful, trouble.” He whispered, his voice husky and the vibration of his chest rattling your own. His lips were so close to yours, nearly brushing yours as he moved them to speak. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His tone of voice made it hard to decipher if his statement was a warning or an invitation.

“Who said I can’t finish it?” You challenged, desperate to keep him there for a little while longer. You weren’t ready to give him up just yet.

“You know better.” He said, the words forced like he hated to say it. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” You challenged, your face inching closer to his own as you awaited a proper answer.

“God,” he hissed, sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth. “You always make it so fucking hard to do the right thing.” This time, he pulled you down on him, unable to resist the temptation of feeling you on him.

Before you could get to the bottom of his ambiguous words, voices filled the air through the screen door of your kitchen and a rush of fear filled you. The grating sound of the tread on the door against the frame caused you to recoil away from Jake, pushing yourself backwards as if you had never been in the confusing situation at all. As bodies filled the patio, laughing and completely unaware of what they interrupted, you looked to Jake to see what he was thinking. As if it was some kind of sick joke, his face was plastered with undeniable disappointment, and behind his eyes, there was a glimmer of hurt.

You thought you might be sick. Your head was pounding and your stomach was twisted with anxiety. To make matters even worse, you were still aching for relief, aching to be back in his arms with your body pressed against his. Surely there was no way in hell that he wanted it too, and you tried to convince yourself you were crazy for thinking so, but the sadness on his face told you a completely different story. His lack of care about the position and his enjoyment of the moment was obvious, but it was too much to process all at once.

Instead, you decided to pretend that it never happened at all. Of course, it was the most painful thing to do, but in his own words, it was the right thing to do.

“Jesus, what happened? You both look like you saw a ghost.” Josh asked, his voice booming and breaking you both from the storm of emotions consuming you. There was a smile on his lips and clear ignorance to what the group had interrupted. You cleared your throat, shaking the emotions away as you noticed the group had doubled in size since the three had left. The boys partners had been planning on joining after work, but in lieu of the whirlwind of events, the knowledge seemed to slip your mind.

“No, all good.” You assured him, glancing at Jake to see he’d made a quick recovery, too.

“Hope you don’t mind the extra company.” Josh grinned, setting a pizza box down on the patio table.

“No, f’course not. The more the merrier, right?” You forced a smile, but you knew everyone could tell that it wasn’t genuine. You hoped that they didn’t misconstrue the dishonesty behind it, because it had nothing to do with extra bodies surrounding the pool, but rather the boy stuck in there with you.

“Right.” Josh nodded, smiling at his partner beside him. “Come and eat, trouble.” He said, nodding his head to the chairs you and Jake had sat in not long before.

“Yeah, okay.” You breathed, giving a curt nod. “You coming?” You asked Jake, feeling guiltier by the second.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his voice hoarse as his eyes connected with yours. “Just give me a minute.” He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. Your cheeks burned at his words, realizing what he meant and why he had to stay. “Please?” He pleaded, knowing that having you in the pool beside him was not helping his situation.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, nervous as you repeated the same words as earlier. In a rush, you swam towards the ladder and hoisted yourself up. You climbed out of the pool, shuffling towards the group as you tried to pull yourself together. You grabbed a towel from the back of a chair as you approached the group, drying your hands before quickly wiping the water from your limbs. Sam seemed enamored with his partner, barely noticing anything that was happening around them, and Daniel was amidst a painful bout of flirting with the girl he’d been talking to for weeks now. You felt good, confident that nobody was suspicious of you and what happened while they were gone, until your eyes locked with Josh’s.

He cocked his head to the side, a playful smirk on his lips as he raised an eyebrow. Plagued with guilt and embarrassment, you cowered under his stare, giving him all the answer he needed. In true Josh fashion, he couldn’t have cared less about what happened so long as he knew for a fact that something happened. He was selective with his need for gossip, never caring about the details but desperate to know that his suspicions were correct, especially when it came to you and Jake. Thankfully, the intensity of the moment dissipated as people began to fill the chairs around the table. Paper plates were passed around as pizza was served, and Jake had recovered enough to get out of the pool and join the rest of you.

Sam’s girlfriend was in his lap on the chair, and Danny was sitting next to his new fling, taking up two seats. Josh, seeing the opportunity to further his torment of you and Jake, took one of the two remaining chairs and offered it to his boyfriend. Then, he threw a folded towel on the ground and took a seat in front of him, between his legs. With a devilish smile, he looked to you and Jake, awkwardly glancing at the only available seat left with plates of food in your hand.

“You take it, trouble.” Jake said, motioning his head towards the chair. “I’m fine sitting on the ground.”

“No, Jake. You take it.” You shook your head, unwilling to make him sit on the ground after you had hurt his feelings.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He frowned, too stubborn to take it from you.

“Here’s an idea,” Josh pitched in his two cents, sipping his drink before continuing. “You could both sit on the chair so neither of you have to sit on the ground?” He offered, raising an eyebrow. You shot him a glare, expecting nothing less but hoping to be proven wrong. “What? You guys shared a bed for months, but sitting on his lap is too much?” Josh was desperate for a reaction, desperate for the two of you to fess up about how you felt for each other, and he was playing devils advocate to get his way. “Unless there’s a problem, trouble?” He pushed a little harder, but you stood your ground in hopes of silencing him.

“No, no problem at all, as long as you’re okay with that.” You looked at Jake, who gave a shrug. He knew just as well as you did what his twin brother was trying to do, but arguing with him never got you anywhere.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” He nodded, taking a seat on the chair. He outstretched his arms towards you, inviting you in with great pleasure as if the awkward moment in the pool never happened at all. He had a paper plate clutched in one hand and a beer in the other with a dopey smile on his lips and rosy cheeks. Despite all of the days strange events, you could not seem to refute the fact that he was adorable.

You stepped towards him, careful as you placed your drink on the table. You sat, mindful not to hurt him as you shifted into a comfortable position in his lap. You twisted to the side, throwing both of your legs over his as you leaned back on him. He put his beer bottle into the cup holder in the arm of the chair and hooked his arm around your waist to hold you in position.

“How’s that?” He asked, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Good.” You squeaked, unable to confess how much you truly enjoyed it. He placed his paper plate on your leg, and within seconds, the awkwardness dissolved into nothing.

You ate, laughing at the topics the boys were discussing (and arguing about), pretending like it was just another normal day for you, but your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the incident in the pool. You couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you, testing his limit as they travelled over your skin. Your mind only wanted to remember how close his face was to yours, his warm breath on your skin and his nose brushing your own. More than that, you couldn’t seem to forget the way he felt underneath you, worked up from the position alone and nothing else. Over and over again the memory of him pulling your hips down on his filled your mind, and it didn’t take long for the incessant ache began between your legs yet again.

Truth be told, it was not the first time the two of you found yourselves in a compromising position—in fact, it happened more often than not, but this time, it seemed intentional. There was no shying away, and both of you seemed content with progressing further had there been no interruptions. Back when you lived with him, finding yourself sleeping in his bed more often than not, compromising positions were the only way you ever started your day. Whether you woke up, your face resting comfortably on his chest and his hand on your hip to hold you in place, or if you were on your side with his chest pressed against your back and his hand nestled under your shirt on your stomach. Closeness was not foreign to you and Jake, and unfortunately, neither was sexual tension.

Most mornings, more so when he found himself as the big spoon, your ass pressed against him did little to help keep things platonic. It was always a struggle to force yourself out of bed, to pretend you didn’t notice a thing so he did not feel ashamed or embarrassed about his own actions, because you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and take care of the problems for him.

In fact, you were certain there was not a problem in the world you wouldn’t take pleasure in solving for him.

But today, you were conscious, both aware of the consequences and uncaring of them. He was willingly holding you there, testing his limits in the process, and he was sad when you pulled away. That was something you did not expect from him, and it was the very thing that was causing all of the overthinking in the first place. Did he really want you, or was he just being a guy, desperately infatuated by a woman no matter who she was? Was his sexual frustration your doing, or a result of a sexual draught he’d been caught in for months? You and Jake had always dated other people, but it usually never extended beyond hookups and talking stages. Since you’d moved in with him, neither of you even bothered to search for a date or a person to bring home after the bar. At first, you thought you were doing it out of respect for him and a dislike for the idea of having sex with someone else in his house, but you quickly understood that it was much more than that.

You didn’t want to date or hookup with anyone, because you wanted to do it with him. It had nothing to do with respect, and everything to do with your feelings towards the one boy you shouldn’t feel that way about.

You were confused, anxious, and worried that the instance might change the dynamic of your friendship, especially if any of your previous questions were answered with something undesirable. You wanted him to want you. You wanted him to love you, in the same undying and relentless way that you loved him, but it was far too much to ask of him. You didn’t want him to sleep with you because he was in a dry spell; you wanted him to sleep with you because he wanted you, rather than just for sex. The longer you thought about it, the more you realized you had been feeling this way for much longer than you ever realized it.

“Y/N?” Jake asked, shaking you slightly. You snapped back to reality by the burning feeling of his palm on your bare thigh. You turned your head towards him, wondering what he wanted and how long you had been zoned out for. You gazed around the circle of friends, realizing that all eyes were on you. The embarrassment began to eat you alive as you mustered out a hum of acknowledgment. “Josh was wondering if you wanted to play Pizza Box.” He repeated, his hand still lingering on your skin.

“Yeah, I love Pizza Box.” You nodded, looking down at his hand. You couldn’t help but think of how good it looked, decorating your leg and holding you as if you were his.

“What’s Pizza Box?” The girl sitting next to Daniel spoke, laughing nervously as Josh began to break down the cardboard box on the table.

“You see, my dear friend, it’s a game of great strategy.” Josh began, shaking off the crumbs onto the concrete.

“It’s a drinking game.” Jake corrected, rolling his eyes at his brother.

“Yes, a drinking game of great strategy!” Josh continued, finding a quarter at the bottom of his bag.

“It’s not, Sierra.” You cut in, reassuring her of the fact. “It’s super random and it’s really fun.”

“Okay,” she breathed a sigh of relief, looking at Danny and giving him a smile. He reached out and placed a hand on her knee, giving it a small squeeze.

“There is a science and I will not take any further arguments on the matter.” Josh snipped, fishing around in his bag for a sharpie. You played the game so often that he never left home without one.

“I learned about it at a frat party in my first year at college.” You shut him down once more, enjoying the frustration on his face. “We play it every time we drink. Basically, we’re going to write everyone’s name on the box and circle it. We take turns throwing the quarter, and if it lands on someone’s name, they have to take a drink.” She nodded along, following your instruction carefully. “If it lands in an empty space on the box, the person who threw the quarter gets to write a rule, as big or as small as they’d like, and if the quarter lands on that, we have to do whatever it says.”

“Oh, that’s not too hard, then.”

“No, it’s not, and it’s really fun, I promise.” You smiled. “Be prepared to get drunk, though. There’s a lot of drinking in this one.” You warned. Your eyes turned back to Josh, watching him as he wrote everyone’s name down and tried to keep them the same size. He circled his own name last, then pushed the table to the center of the circle.

“Alright, Lena. You want to start?” Josh asked, looking at Sam’s girlfriend. She gave a nod, holding out her hand. Josh tossed the quarter in her direction. She caught it, focusing for a moment before tossing it down on the table. The coin landed on Sam’s name, almost perfectly in the middle, and she let out a laugh at the sight.

“Hey!” Sam complained, furrowing his eyebrows. “You’re supposed to be on my team!”

“Not a team game, Sammy. Drink up.” You smirked. With a huff and an eye roll, he did as he was told. Lena leaned forward and grabbed the quarter, handing it to the boy sitting on the chair underneath her. He gave it a lazy toss, landing on a blank spot next to Roman’s name. Josh’s boyfriend let out a sigh of relief, knowing he narrowly avoided the sentence to drink.

“Uhm,” Sam hummed aloud, trying his best to think of a rule. “Players who land on the spot can’t swear for the rest of the game. Every time they do, they have to drink. You can write it for me.” Josh nodded, leaning forward and circling the words ‘swearing = drink’. Sierra grabbed the coin, sitting back in her chair as she looked around the board. With a targeted throw, she landed on Danny’s name. Without complaint, he sipped at his beer, then took his own turn.

By the time the circle was complete and Lena was ready to take her turn again, mostly everyone had been sentenced to drink with the exception of you. Now, the group had a pact to shoot for your name. Lena tried, but missed entirely, which came a new rule of ‘boys drink’. Sam missed and hit Jake’s name, and Sierra landed on Josh’s name. Danny made the new rule of ‘girls drink’ to counter Lena, and Roman landed on it when he took his turn. The board filled quickly, now including rules pertaining to shenanigans rather than drinking. Jake added one, stating that if the player landed on it, they had to swim a lap of the pool. Sienna added one in which the player had to attempt at a cartwheel.

The board was filled enough that the rules began to slow, and the fun began. With a reluctant round of clinking beer bottle necks, the boys took a drink. Josh tried (and failed) to do a cartwheel on the grass, and Jake had to swim a lap in the pool, grumbling about his own rules being used against him. When he returned to the chair to sit, you refused to let him back on it, giggling as you reasoned with him.

“I just dried off! It’ll be cold and wet and gross, and it’s starting to get dark out!” You complained, anchoring your hands on the arm of the chair.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, trouble.” He bargained, sopping wet as he stood before you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“My chair, my rules!” You cried, hooking your legs around the legs of the chair. He chuckled to himself, leaning down and snaking his arms around your midsection.

With ease, he lifted you from your spot, the chair lifting with you. You held on for as long as you could, but eventually had to loosen your grip. It clattered back against the concrete and Jake let out a sigh of relief. He hooked an arm below your knees to hold you bridal-style as he sat back down, placing you on top of him. You tried to scramble away, but he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back on him as you shrieked with laughter. Now just as damp as he was, you knew the fight was a fruitless endeavor. You relaxed against him, your skin littered with goosebumps from the chill of the night.

“What was that about your chair?” Jake asked, the vibration of his chest ringing against your back as you leaned against him. His chin was resting on your shoulder, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Shut up, Kiszka.” You muttered, mumbling a thanks to Josh as he handed you the coin. The alcohol and laughter did wonders at easing the tension between you and Jake, and you were barely thinking about the pool incident any more. Even as you sat atop of him, closer than usual, things felt normal, and it felt good to know that the situation did not change anything between you.

You tossed the quarter, and it landed on the corner of the box, right atop a little blank space in the corner. You leaned back, turning your head towards Jake so you could whisper something in his ear. He leaned forward, catching on to your intent as he waited to hear what you have to offer.

“I’m thinking skinny dipping?” You whispered, your nose brushing against his cheek as he turned to look at you. At first, he was surprised at your words, his eyes wide and his mind running at a mile a minute, but he looked to the box and quickly realized what you meant. Before he made his misinterpretation too obvious, he gave a nod.

“Good one.” He hummed. You leaned toward, grabbing the marker and writing the words down before encasing it in a circle.

“Ah, so that’s how we’re playing this tonight.” Josh announced, an evil grin taking over his face. At the sound of his words, your stomach plummeted, realizing what you had opened the door to in your moment of mindlessness. “Sounds good to me!”

“What does that mean?!” You whispered to Jake, nervous about what the future held.

“I wouldn’t worry, trouble. It’s just Josh.” He assured you. He had his hand on your hip, holding you close as he reassured you, and it felt good. Almost too good as you tried to bargain with yourself not to cross any boundaries.

The circle went around a few more times, and the night began to take over. The stars glimmered in the black sky and the moonlight casted a white light over the group. You were all long last tipsy, and growing more intense as the game progressed. Roman and Josh had been whispering amongst themselves for the past few turns, clearly planning something grand. Roman carefully aimed when his turn came around, making sure he landed on one of the few empty spaces left.

“Couples kiss.” He said, smiling as Josh reached for the coin. He took his time, and landed on another empty space.

“Singles kiss.” He announced, writing the words much larger than necessary. Your stomach twisted with unease as Josh sat back in his original position, turning his head towards you as he slid the quarter across the table. You gave him a scowl as you reached for it, knowing exactly what he was playing at. Carefully, in hopes of avoiding the biggest circle on the board, you threw the coin. It slid as it landed, making your heart speed, but stopped on Jake’s name.

“Hey,” he complained, a frown on his lips.

“Drink up, buttercup.” You smiled, still too on edge to be relieved. You knew that nobody else would take that much caution in avoiding the space, which made it all the more frustrating for you. Josh had you in stalemate, and he wasn’t backing down until he finished the whole thing.

The circle went around, and with every coin toss, you felt yourself relax into Jake a little bit more. So far, you were in the clear, and you worries began to ease. Perhaps you were a little too comfortable in your assumptions, because when Roman took his turn, his quarter landed suspiciously close to the new rule Josh had added moments before. When Josh took his turn, he was carefully positioned and calculated. As his quarter landed on the board, he tried to keep the frown from forming.

“Couples kiss!” He announced, forcing a fake smile. With that, Josh and Sam both turned to their partners, keeping it sweet and simple. Your turn gave the girls a round of drinks, and as you handed the quarter to Jake, you prayed he would have the same caution as you did. Of course, you couldn’t expect anything from Jake when he was drunk, and as soon as the coin was in his hand, he tossed it without a second thought.

You watched in horror as the coin landed on its side and began an agonizing roll towards the exact spot you wanted to avoid. As if the world was in slow motion, you felt like you could feel every second pass as the coin hit a divot in the box, halting its rapid roll and wobbling in its path. Eventually, it pathetically dropped to its side, and your blood went cold. Below it, the word kiss was covered by the shiny silver, and the only word visible in the circle that surrounded it was the word ‘singles’.

Through his own carelessness, Jake had sealed his own fate, and you knew Josh would never let it go, at least not without a good fight.

what do you guys think will happen in part two ☺️ I can’t wait to hear your thoughts 🤍

[gracev0609]

Get Your Blood Pumping

Josh Kiszka X Reader

I apologize, I'm not sure who to credit for the gif, it's been in my gvf folder for forever! But thank you for your service! EDIT: @joshsindigostreak informed me that the gif is by @readyforthegarden , so thank you!!

WC: 3k+

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI, Explicit Sex, Rough Sex, BEEFY GYM JOSH

A @lipstickitty / gracev0609 collaboration.

Fic based on this request!

When Josh wasn’t on tour, the weekends were your favorite time of the week. This was mainly because in most instances, that was when the two of you had the most free time to spend together. Saturdays were usually more of an errand day, getting any running done that you hadn’t had the time for throughout the week, Target trips, coffee dates, hanging out with friends and family. Sundays were almost always reserved for the two of you- eating breakfast together, spending as long in bed as you wanted, just being with each other and recharging after the busy week.

You would usually wake up on a Sunday morning to the sun gently shining through your windows and Josh’s gentle touch easing you awake. Here lately, however, he’d been hitting the gym most mornings before the sun even rose. Sometimes you’d still be tucked away in bed fast asleep and he’d gently pull you from your slumber with coffee and breakfast after showering off the sweat from the gym, other times you’d already be awake doing some cleaning around the house or cooking breakfast for the both of you- the latter being your favorite by far.

There was no other sight quite like Josh walking into your shared home after leaving the gym, glistening with sweat, curls all in disarray from being shoved back off of his forehead. He would always shed his shirt on the drive home, hating the way the damp fabric would stick to his skin and the leather of the seats. He had a few different pairs of shorts he liked to work out in, being rather particular about the way clothes fit and moved with his body when he was active like that. Your favorite pair by far being the shortest, skimpiest ones- and the ones he wore least often. You swore it was simply to torture you, he knew how much you loved that pair of shorts on him, so he would pick and choose what days he wore them to really get you going.

Today seemed to be the day. You had awoken naturally, early in the morning and you had already brewed a pot of coffee in anticipation of his arrival. You heard his keys jingle in the door lock, and he made his way through the threshold. His light grey t shirt in his hand with numerous dark sweat spots hanging limp between his fingers. His tiny shorts hung low on his hips, the bottom hem landing only a few inches underneath his goods. Your eyes studied his form, his newly sculpted obliques framed his, thankfully, still soft stomach. Following the planes of his body you observed his pectoral muscles, now round and full. Dancing across his collarbone your sight followed his arms down to his recently sculpted biceps. Once again your eyes bounced down to his teeny tiny shorts, and more so you looked at his bulging protrusion between his legs.

“See something you like sweetheart?”

You blushed bringing your coffee mug up to your lips,masking your smirk.

“What? You're blushing like a school girl,” he makes his way over to you, caging you in his arms. Watching his muscles ripple, you reluctantly met his eyes. He leaned in and his scent infiltrated your nose. You smelled the stale cologne he applied hours ago and the unmistakable musk he acquired from his workout.

“Impressed baby?”

Raising your hand your fingers delicately traced his chest, feeling the muscles flex under your touch.

“You've gotten so…. Solid recently. Tell me Joshy, what have you been doing at the gym?”

He brushed his nose over your cheek, voice coming out low and smooth as silk, “I start with a warmup…” one of his hands moved to your throat, not squeezing, just trailing his fingers over the delicate skin. “When I wanna work out my chest, a bench press is my go to…” his breath warmed the skin of your jaw and you felt the rumble of his chest against yours as he spoke. His hand skimmed down your neck, following the trail of your collarbone to your shoulder and back again before just barely brushing against the tops of your breasts over the thin material of your worn sleep shirt. You could feel your slick threatening to drip down your thighs already and he’d barely even touched you.

“Bicep curls, and overhead bar extensions for the triceps.” His fingers started at your wrist and ran their way up the length of your arm, tracing over the muscles he named. “Lat pulldowns work your back…” both his hands traveled to the small of your back, thumbs stroking over your heated skin. “Squats, and hip thrusts…” he trailed down to grab a handful of your ass, squeezing and pulling your body impossibly further into his making you gasp. “Be patient baby, I’ll show you how much I can hip thrust.”

The smirk never left his face, clearly enjoying how easily he could get you all worked up.

He knelt down before you, thumbs stroking over both of your hips before he started peppering kisses there, slowly feeling his way down every inch of your bare thighs. His lips left a searing trail of kisses everywhere that his hands touched, every touch building the burning need inside of you. “On leg days I do lunges and calf raises.” His touch had migrated to the tops of your calves, leaving a few love bites down your thighs as he went. “There’s more, of course, but I’d hate to bore you.” He teased, hands locking around your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. You giggled and squealed the whole way there, begging him not to drop you.

He tosses you onto the bed like you weighed nothing, making you squeal again. In an instant he was on top of you, blanketing his body over yours. His bare chest rubbing against yours makes your nipples ache under his brief touch.

Hot wet kisses from his lips make you moan out his name.

“What, baby?”

“I need you.”

He chuffs a laugh, his cocky smirk still plastered on his lips,” I know you do.”

You huff lifting your hips off of the bed to meet his. Gasping when you rub your sensitive core against his hardness straining in his tiny shorts.

“ ‘M so wet. Need you.”

He grinds his hips down, pushing himself to press against where you're aching.

“Yeah? Does my pretty baby wanna make a mess? Grind her beautiful cunt against me until my shorts are wet?”

You smile, teeth showing,” I think that's what you want Josh.”

“Is that so bad?”

Quickly he rolls off of you, scooting his body up the bed so he can lean in the mass of pillows. He grips his length through the tight fabric of his shorts, squeezing himself for some relief.

“Take your panties off baby. I know they're soaked and uncomfortable.”

Hooking your fingers in the cotton underwear you pull them from your hips, wincing lightly when the material sticks to you between your legs. Slowly you crawl up the bed, straddling his hips. You watch as he adjusts himself in his shorts, laying his cock straight up letting his tip peek out of the waistband. Whispering he croons,” Come on baby, grind that pretty wet pussy on me.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief once your hot aching core makes contact with his covered cock. Tentatively you rock your hips, pressing your swollen clit against his length.

Josh keeps his voice low as he pushes your bed head back, tucking the stray hairs behind your ears,” There's my good girl… I want you to grind on me until you cum okay sweetheart?”

You hum in agreement, rocking your hips against him, already losing yourself in the pleasure. Your fingers dig into his bare shoulders, your toes curling as you hump against him. Feeling him twitch as your wetness soaks his thin shorts. Josh's hands find your hips as they begin to stutter, pushing and pulling you. Suddenly the band in your tummy snaps and pleasure floods your body. Crying out as you shamelessly buck your hips against his swollen length. As you start to still he pulls your hips closer to his, pressing you completely flush against his length.

“Good girl, that's my good girl. Now get up, Daddy wants to see your mess.”

Your limbs felt weak as you clambered off of his lap settling down on the bed beside him.

His breath shudders as he spies the large wet spot sitting over his length. Hooking his fingers into his waistband he pulls his shorts off. What he does next shocks you, a flood of slick threatening to drip down onto the bed sheets below. Instead of tossing them to the floor he brings them to his face, inhaling deeply as his eyes roll back. He connects his lips to the ruined fabric, and sucks your juices off of them.

After a few moments he discards them, looking at you with an unhinged, feral look in his eyes. You knew you were in for it.

“God damn it.” He groaned out and you reveled in the sight of him, a pool of his arousal accumulated where his length rested, flushed red and twitching against his abdomen. “Get the fuck up here baby.” His words came out in a low growl, gripping your hips and pulling you up the bed to straddle his chest.

You hovered over him, a bit nervous to rest all your weight on him every time despite knowing that not only can he take it, he aches for it. “Josh, I don’t want you to suffocate!” You giggled, supporting your weight with your hands planted on each side of his head. He scoffed, letting you know once again how silly he always found it that you weren’t immediately willing to smother him, and yanked you down until you felt the delicious feeling of your dripping core meeting the wet warmth of his soft tongue.

His fingers gripped your hips so tight you knew you’d have fingerprint-shaped bruises to serve as a reminder of his animalistic need to taste you. His pointed tongue drove into your entrance, greedily lapping you up, moaning into your aching heat as your taste overwhelmed his senses. You cried out, one hand propping you up, the other gripping onto his curls for leverage.

His tongue explored every inch of you, licking and sucking at your clit, pleasure surging through your entire body. “That’s it Joshy, such a good boy for me.” You whined, fingers tightening in his hair. He let out a deep growl into your cunt and you felt the sharp sting of his teeth nipping at your sensitive bundle of nerves making you yelp.

“Fuck Josh!”, you raised your hips from his face, sitting back onto his chest. Eyeing him he had a lazy lust filled smile on his lips, his mouth and cheeks shining with your wetness.

His voice raspy with arousal,” Wanna fuck you now. Can I baby?”

Gently you pat his messy cheek,” Of course you can lover boy.”

Once again he uses his newfound strength to flip you on your back, settling between your legs,” I'm gonna let you adjust to me, and then I'm not gonna go slow. I've been aching to fuck you for days. We've been so fucking busy.”

You giggle knowing it was all his own doing, spreading your legs wider enticing him to enter you.

His breath catches in his throat as he grasps his painfully hard cock, swiping it through your entrance.

“So pretty and pink, just for me.”

Canting his hips forward he gently plunges into you, letting your body slowly stretch to accommodate him.

He leans his head down to your chest, letting you relax around him. He squeezes his eyes closed as if the sensation of your pussy around his cock is simply too much for him to bear. Running your hands across his toned shoulders you try to ground him, easing him back to you. You feel his lungs expand and take in a deep breath as he lifts his head,” You ready for it baby?”

You smirk,”Go ahead Joshy. Wreck me.”

You watch his jaw clench as he powerfully thrusts his hips forward, already tapping against your most sensitive spots making you gasp.

“Be careful what you wish for honey.”

After a few deep thrusts, his hips harshly colliding with yours, he grasps your right leg hitching it up over his shoulder. His hands desperately grab at your stomach and your ass, gripping on for leverage as he goes impossibly deeper, pushes impossibly harder into you. In and out he pounds, your eyes rolling every time his swollen tip hits your cervix. The pain and pleasure make a delicious combination. Fluttering your eyes open you first meet the sinful image of his chest, beads of sweat rolling between the valley of his breasts. Following the shimmering trails upwards you're met with his flushed face, cheeks red and lips pink and pouty. His brows are deeply furrowed. He almost looks in pain, but you know better. A small sparkle drips down the side of his head, trailing down in front of his ear, down his cheek to drip off his chin splattering on your stomach.

The sight of him sends you spiraling, the need to have another orgasm already swirling deep in your stomach, you mumble your tongue feeling heavy as if you're drunk on him,” Josh… ‘m gonna cum.”

He curtly nods his head as if words are too much for him now, and he grips your body even tighter pulling you in to meet his punishing thrusts. It doesn't take much longer until your walls are fluttering around him and your back arches off of the mattress. A long wailing moan pairs with the gush of slick around his cock as you come undone for him.

As soon as your body stilled Josh was pulling out and manhandling you once again, maneuvering you onto all fours. You gripped onto the sheets, arching your back for him. Josh buried himself inside your walls fully in one brutal thrust, a strangled moan tearing from your chest.

He brought one arm around the front of your waist and tangled the other hand in your hair, pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. The strong arm around your waist locked you in place as Josh resumed his harsh pace, bruising thrusts hitting every spot inside of you perfectly. The sounds of Josh’s hips smacking against your ass filled the air mixed with the sinful sound of his cock driving in and out of you relentlessly.

The force of his tip nudging your cervix rendered you speechless, no sounds escaping from your lips other than your ragged breathing and strained gasps. Josh, however, couldn’t keep quiet, a constant chorus of moans, groans, whimpers and cries flowing freely from his lips.

“So fucking good, baby.”

“Shit, your pussy’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight.”

“You just love having my cock this deep, don’t you sweetheart? Filling up your pretty cunt so good you can’t even speak?”

You tried to respond, but with the way Josh was pounding into you, you couldn’t manage anything more than a breathy, barely audible chant of ‘yes’ as your walls constricted around his pulsing cock once more. You couldn’t find the words to let him know you were close but your body gave you away, Josh instantly knowing you were right on the edge. “That’s my girl, cum for me.” He choked out through clenched teeth, hips stuttering briefly as you vaguely registered the sensation of him twitching inside you but keeping their pace as he fucked you through your intense high. “That’s it, soak my cock. Just like that.” He growled as he felt you gush all over him again.

His hips stilled while you recovered, letting you float back down to earth before he pulled out of you again making you whimper at the empty feeling. “Get on top of me sweetie, don’t wanna cum just yet. Wanna feel you a little longer.” He cooed, helping you climb onto him taking in your bright red cheeks and fucked-out expression with pride.

Slowly you rocked your hips with what little strength you had left. Josh has utterly and thoroughly expended all of your energy.

“Hmm is my pretty girl tired?”

Nodding your head you agreed as you tried to rock your hips with more gusto.

“That just won't do sweetie, you want me to cum don't you?” He grabs a hold of your hips helping you bounce,” Hold on to me baby, gonna fuck you good.”

Before you can really register what's happening, his hips push up off the bed into a sort of bridge pose. Wildly he thrusts in and out of you, sopping wet slapping sounds fill your bedroom as he pounds into you from below. He lifts your hips up and down, meeting his thrusts pushing himself ever deeper inside of you. Your brain is thoughtless. Pleasure is the only thing you feel.

“Getting close.” He whines.

His legs shake as he slams into you for the final time, holding your hips in place as his cock swells and bursts, flooding your insides with his release.

As he settles you both back down onto the mattress he listlessly mutters,” Fuck” under his breath. You can feel his entire body trembling, the same as yours. Limply you slump over, one locked arm bracing you from landing on his chest. You're panting and sweating and your legs burn like you went to the gym.

Josh gathers your ratty hair into a makeshift bun at the base of your neck with his fist, an attempt to cool you off.

His other hand comes up, lovingly stroking your cheek,”You okay, love bug?”

Mustering up a smile you mumble,”Mmhmm, jus’ tired. That was a lot.”

Worry flashes across his face,” Too much?”

Leaning down, you nuzzle your face into the damp skin of his neck,” No, never.”

After a few beats of silence you're suddenly aware of how sweaty and slick you two are. Sitting back up in his lap, you grit your teeth as he twitches inside of you, he lets out a small whimper from the back of his throat,” Sorry… Sensitive.”

Gingerly you rise from his lap, careful not to disturb his abused flesh, and you lay down beside him.

Sighing, you say,” I'm sleepy now.”

He giggles, his fingers intertwining with yours,” You have two options. We can shower and nap. Or, we can shower and go get breakfast and coffee. Your pick.”

Bringing your hand up to your face, your index finger taps your chin pretending to be deep in thought, “ I'm thinking a nap.”

You watch as Josh's face visibly falls, clearly looking forward to breakfast.

You giggle, grasping his face between your hands,” Baby I'm joking! Let's go get breakfast.”

His eyes light up,” Crepes?”

“Sounds perfect Joshy.”

You rise from the bed making your way to your bathroom, eager to wash the mess from your bodies.

You start the water, waiting for it to heat up, Josh's large palms gently massage the tension in your shoulders.

“Sweetheart, can I wash your hair?” Josh places loving kisses to the nape of your neck, trailing down your spine.

Turning slightly in his grasp to face him,” Only if I can wash yours too.”

He smiles, teeth on full display, eyes scrunched,”Deal!”

[gretavanlace]

Breña

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, oral sex (m rec), illusions to oral sex (fem rec), fingering, etc.

Inspired by this delicious ask and blurb that was sent to me ages ago. I promised I’d get to this one, and I did, I’m just sorry it took me so long. Forgive me 💕

Loosely edited, but what else is new?

“Get fucked, Josh.” Jake barks with such venom your head snaps in his direction. He rarely speaks unkindly, even if it is only his twin brother, who will love him anyway, on the receiving end.

For his part in the exchange, Josh merely smooths a nonexistent wrinkle in his shirt with an airy chuckle. “Maybe you should take your own advice, brother. Seems like you need to get laid. Awful testy, darling.”

He means it as a joke. A laugh to lighten the mood. Unfortunately, it doesn’t land and you watch on in shocked silence as Jake slaps his glass of whiskey down on the coffee table before him, and then stalks from the room without a word - his absence solidified by the sharp slam of his bedroom door.

”You shouldn’t have said that,” your admonishment is quiet, issued tepidly while you stare down into your glass of wine. You feel intrusive, yes, but you feel worse for Jake, and that wins out.

”I know,” he agrees with the decency to at least sound repentant, “But I didn’t mean it that way. And besides, it's been months. He just needs to get on with it.”

”He loved her.” Your standpoint certainly doesn’t come from a place of loyalty to Jake’s ex - you loathed her, but instead, for Jake and his clearly wounded heart.

”He didn’t love her,” Josh corrects, and likely rightly so “He loved the idea of her. There’s a big fucking difference.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t insert yourself, but you’ve never been great about biting your tongue. ”Maybe give him some time to figure that out for himself, then.”

Josh rises with a smile that tells you your candor hasn’t ruffled his feathers. It’s so difficult to rile him up that it often feels like some twisted challenge, “Don’t you ever get tired of being right all the time? Seems exhausting to me. You should try being a fuck up…I could give you lessons.”

He drops a kiss upon the crown of your head and trips off to place his glass in the sink. “I seem to have worn out my welcome here at Jacob’s Tavern on the Green. You want a ride? I only had the one.”

”No,” you wave him off and nip at your glass, “I might just crash on the couch. The A/C’s out at my place again.”

”Alright, then,” he shrugs on his jacket and pats at his hair as if he’s prepping for a night out rather than the quick drive home, “Don’t poke the bear though, doll face. I’d like to keep you unscathed. Kinda like you.”

”That’s funny,” you deadpan, “Because I can’t stand you.”

He wrinkles his nose, offers a quick wink, and then out the front door he slips.

The couch remains your lighthouse for a time, but everyone knows Josh gives terrible advice, so if he has warned against poking the bear, that’s obviously exactly what you should do.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, just before knocking softly on his bedroom door. “Jake?”

Your call is met with silence, but just before you turn to leave, feeling dejected and meddlesome, the door cracks open to reveal him, now barefoot and shirtless…a pair of sweats resting so low on his hips your mind wanders into dangerous territory “What’s up? Bored of my idiot brother already?”

He’s presenting a brave face, but you can see the anguish in his eyes, and also, something else that you can’t quite place.

”He left, actually.” Why do you suddenly feel so stupid? “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seem…I don’t know, on edge?”

He reaches out and gives your arm a friendly squeeze, “I’m alright, sweetheart. He just dances on my last nerve, that’s all.”

And while that’s not a total lie, you also know there’s a lot more to it, so you gently push him along. “You sure, Jake? You can talk to me, you know? I’ve been there, I understand how hard it is to miss someone you shouldn’t.”

Searching your face for something you can’t identify, he lets a stretch of quiet carry on a beat too long, before finally shaking his head, holding the door open a little wider in wordless invitation.

Once you’re perched awkwardly at the foot of his bed, hands clasped and ankles crossed, he speaks up “I don’t miss her, necessarily. It’s just hard. Especially the way it ended. I just…”

God, he looks so small and walled off. “You just what?”

Slumping onto the bed beside you, he sighs “I just wish it had ended differently.”

”It never ends well,” you flop down as well, and stare up at the ceiling as though constellations might appear to dazzle you. “Everyone always hates the ending. Doesn’t make it any easier, though.”

”Do you miss her?” He asks, staring up at that bright, blank white just as you are.

What an absurd question. Why should he care? And were you really that great at pretending to like her to spare his feelings?

The moment seems to scream for honesty, so you hand it over. “No, I don’t. I never cared much for her to begin with, and then she…” you falter and search for a kind way to describe it, “and then she did what she did to you, and I— no, I don’t miss her at all.”

”It’s alright to just say it. She cheated on me.” He laughs a little. “Fuck, how pathetic does that sound?”

Rolling to your side to face him, you blink away his self deprecation, “It isn’t pathetic, Jake. Not on your end, anyway.”

“I suppose I just wonder what I did or didn’t do, you know?” He chuckles quietly to mask his vulnerability, “What did he do that I didn’t? Why wasn’t I enough?”

“I don’t think that’s really how it works,” you assure him, turning to stare up at his ceiling once again, but now reaching for his hand. “Besides, I can’t imagine you not being enough.”

He returns your encouraging squeeze and makes a half-whispered joke, a verbal mask to hide behind. “Maybe I just wasn’t good enough in bed. I swear I know where everything is, and where things go…mostly.”

”Shut up,” you laugh softly so as not to disturb the calm that has settled. “I have zero doubts about your abilities, Jake Kiszka, in bed or otherwise.”

Now, he is the one rolling to his side to face you. “And what does that mean?”

”I don’t know,” you shrug, suddenly feeling extremely on display. “It’s just…well, in my experience, men like you don’t often disappoint in that department.”

”Men like me?” You have perked his interest and plucked at that mildly conceited chord that lives within him. “And what type of man am I exactly, sweetheart?”

”I’m not going to stroke your ego, Jacob. Though if you’d like to do it yourself, I’d be happy to leave the room.”

He laughs at that, “If I planned on stroking something you’d leave the room? Another devastating blow to my pride.”

You groan in mock exasperation at his tactless humor, earning another chuckle from him. You love the sound of his laugh, and you love being the one to make him laugh even more.

”It’s not like it would matter anyway.” He sighs, nuzzling against his duvet to get comfortable. “Stroking something, I mean.”

”Jake!” Your head whips to meet his scandalous gaze.

”Oh, grow up.” He grins, eyes flashing with mischief, but still something else that you can’t place.

He’s right. You promised him he could talk to you, so you shake it off and start anew. “What do you mean?”

”I just…can’t…” he pauses, searching for his resolve. “Not since she left.”

You’re shocked, and unfortunately, not hiding it well. “You haven’t had sex since then?”

It doesn’t seem possible. He’s gorgeous and charming, charismatic and dripping sex. Women crawl for him everywhere you go.

“I haven’t done anything since she left.” He corrects, dodging your stare. “I can’t. No matter what I do. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Every time I get anywhere near I—“

He abruptly cuts himself off, “I’m sorry. This isn’t cool. I shouldn’t be telling you this. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”

“No,” the last thing you want him to do is shut down. “It’s okay. Talk to me.”

He closes himself off again with a clipped shake of his head ”You don’t want to hear this shit.”

Alright, that’s it, he can’t have it his way. He can fight you tooth and nail, but you’re going to march on anyway and drag him along, kicking and screaming.

“So you haven't gotten off since the split?” You ask as if it’s no big deal…and maybe it isn’t.

“Jesus, babe…” he teases, “such a mouth on you.”

Interesting choice of words, Jacob.

”It’s just surprising to me, that’s all.” It’s a leading comment, and you damn well know it.

”Why?”

”Because you’re you, Jake.” Now you’ve spun to face him again as well. “You just walk around like living, breathing sex all the time. And you’re also a liar with your ‘mostly’ bullshit. You know where everything goes and then some. I can tell.”

”You sound terribly sure of your analysis, sweetheart.” His voice has grown quiet and it makes you long to squeeze your thighs together.

“Am I wrong?” Oh, you seem to have grown quiet as well. When did that happen? “Because I don’t think I am.”

He ignores your question, “Living, breathing sex, huh?”

”Again, I can leave the room if you’d like to sing your own praises.”

His fingers reach up to smooth an errant lock of hair away from your forehead, “You are the one singing my praises. I’m simply enjoying the attention.”

You’re further hushed at his touch ”You’re a smug little shit, you know that?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I do know that…it’s just been a bit since I could remember why.”

You want this. You want this so badly you might even be inclined to beg for it. Instead, you seize the opportunity with feigned confidence. “I could help you. If you wanted.”

His fingers are still caressing your forehead, lulling you so softly, “Help me how?”

”I don’t know,” you’re toying with the chain around his neck now, avoiding his eyes, “I could…try.”

”Try what?” There’s a smirk ghosting at the corner of his beautiful mouth, and it betrays his intentions. He knows exactly what you mean. He just wants you to say it.

Now or never. “I could get you off. If it would help. I mean, I’d like to…I want to help.”

The strong column of his throat bobs as he swallows hard, and then there is his nose, nuzzling against yours, the closest to his kiss that you have ever been ”You want to make me cum?”

The way he speaks of it, as if you two have been here a thousand times together before, is so sexy your head is suddenly spinning.

You offer a tiny nod and then hurry on before you lose your nerve, “You could just lie here and I could…”

Every ounce of confidence seeps from your bones when his eyes, cinnamon sugar and blown wild with lust, catch your own.

”You could what?” He presses the gentlest kiss against your cheek.

”I could use my mouth…I…” fuck, you can hardly breathe, and the room feels too small, crowded up with tension and long repressed desire.

A needy, hungry groan rumbles out of his chest as he pulls you a little closer. “You would do that for me?”

”Of course I would.”

His eyes are on your lips now, agonized and desperate. “Have you thought about it before, or do you just feel sorry for me?”

He knows the answer. There’s that smugness you spoke of.

”I think about it all the time.” You whisper honestly. “Do you?”

”No.” his hands fist into your hair. “I don’t think about my cock in your mouth,” oh god, the way those words tumble off of his pretty tongue, dripping saccharine but so dark “but I do think about my face between your thighs…how you’d sound. How you would taste. How you might rock your hips against me when I got you close.”

In response, you’re on your knees before him in a breath, fingers curled into the waistband of his sweats, imploring him with your gaze for permission.

He nods with a hitching inhale and that’s all the confirmation you need. Pulling them down, there it is. Stunning and achingly hard, thick and pulsing for you. As breathtaking as an obscene symphony. He looks so ready, leaking opalescent droplets into the soft dusting of hair below his belly button. You doubt you’ve ever wanted anything more.

The flat of your tongue runs warm and wet from base to tip, nudging harder at that special spot just below his velvety head. How did you know? He wonders as he twitches against your kiss.

After such a long stretch of fighting to get off, he’s now frightened he just might embarrass himself and cover your lovely face before you’ve even had a chance to suck him in.

But suck him in you do, without warning, and so deeply he can feel the silken back of your throat. Lurching forward, curling in on himself against the pleasure, he chokes out a humiliating sound and grabs at you…one hand tangled in your hair, the other clutched around the nape of your neck. “Oh my god, baby, please…”

You nod your understanding and swallow around him, sweeping your tongue back and forth. He sounds blissful but pushes you away without warning. “M’gonna cum,” he murmurs through his panting breaths, “just give me a second.”

How has he gotten here so quickly? It’s horribly humbling, but he wants it so badly his heart is resting in his throat, thrumming savagely, pulse-points pounding a fierce and uncontrollable beat.

”That’s the fucking point, Jake,” you fist at his wet cock and drink him back down once before pulling back, “You need it, I can feel it. Cum in my mouth. Please?”

Your please, so sweet and innocent while asking for something so filthy, snatches a growl out of him that flushes you with unbearable heat.

Both of his palms find either side of your head tentatively, “Can I stand?”

You nod eagerly around him, and then gaze up at his face once he is hovered above you like a deity soaked in depravity. There is a pink blush painted across the bridge of his nose and cheeks that makes you feel as soft as warm cotton.

“I want to use your mouth,” he hushes, “Is that alright?”

Again, you merely nod with your mouth stuffed full of him.

”You give me a little shove if you want to stop…” he coddles your cheek, and speaks like a lullaby as you blink up at him in consent.

When he drives inside of you, it is a vicious invasion, but one that you’d plead for over and over again. He is buried so deeply inside your throat you can scarcely breathe, but the threading of his brow and the steady moans dripping from his lips are all you’ve ever wanted.

He’s twitching already against your tongue, slipping deeper into you until you’re fighting a gag that only wrecks him further.

One, two, three, thrusts and he is reduced to whimpers, “Shit, oh god, please, I need it. I need it so bad. I need to—“ a pained grunt, through gritted teeth, interrupts his babbling, “I’m cumming, sweetheart…”

The taste of his release dances across your taste buds as you struggle to swallow him down.

He is shuddering and cursing above you, holding you still as he shakes his head violently in apology, “I’m sorry…” his voice is but a phantom of itself, “It’s too much, I shouldn’t have…not in your mouth…oh fuck, fuck…”

And you’d tell him if you could, that it is a privilege…his offering, a gift. Instead, you allow every drop to roll down your throat as you suckle gently for more until he is shivering in overstimulation.

Finally, you allow his cock to slip from your mouth as his thumbs sweep over your cheekbones. “I— goddamn…thank you, sweetheart. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

”You’re welcome, Jake…” your thumbs find their own place to sweep against - his thighs. “Thank you.”

His lips part to protest, but pull back into a snarling hiss when you wrap your hand around his length “You’re still hard.”

He looks half-bashful, “I’d say it’s been a while, but I think it’s just you.”

”Yeah?” You rise from your knees and nip at his chin, “Have I made you hard before?”

”Does someone have a bit of a praise kink?” His grip sinks into the dips of your hips beneath your shirt, “Do you like knowing you’ve made my dick ache?”

”Maybe,” you shimmy your shoulders nonchalantly, “or maybe I’m just a cock tease.”

”Get on the bed.” He demands, in lieu of an actual retort, while tugging at the button and zipper of your jeans. “Everything off. You may lay however you’d like, but I want that pussy on display for me…let me see her.”

You may? Well…there’s that bit of dominance you had imagined hidden away inside of him more times than you care to admit

Dropping down on the bed, completely bared to him for the first time, you close your eyes against his appreciative scrutiny, “You’re fucking perfect,” his words are nearly vibrating, “Stay just like that and let me look at you.”

Demurely, you do as he says.

”Legs a little wider, babe…lemme see that sugary little cunt,” oh, he’s deliciously dirty.

”Hi, pretty girl,” he coos when your knees press against the sheets.

”Hi.” You murmur back softly.

He ever so gently waves you off, “Not talking to you, sweetheart. Mind your own business.”

Your cheek kisses linen as you nestle your face into the bed, content to allow him to have his private moment with your pussy. If that’s what he wants, that’s what he gets

His fingertips are there now, curling so lightly over your swollen clit, pretending like they just might nudge inside you now and then, until you’re writhing with want. “Please, Jake…” a tremulous, tiny mewl escapes you. A vexing little sound that heats your face and betrays your need.

His eyebrows quirk upward, “Inside?”

”Inside.” You nod earnestly.

Without warning, you’re filled with his middle and ring fingers. They search along your walls as his gaze clocks your expression until you cry out. “Right there, baby?” He pouts, mocking your whine. “Is that the spot?”

”Faster,” the blood in your veins is rushing at a feverish pitch, the taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue has broken you wide open.

“No,” he shushes, the soft pad of his thumb nudging at your clit “Nice and slow, sweetheart. Relax for me.”

You do your best and fill your lungs to the brim with air that smells of sex and him before releasing it slowly.

“Good girl, baby.” He praises, fucking you gingerly with his hand as if this is all either of you will ever do for the rest of your days…no rush. “When you cum, can this pretty princess make a mess?”

”Hmm?” You’re a million miles away, drifting through his sea, you’ve barely registered him speaking to you.

“If I make you cum,” he clarifies, pressing up into that place that makes you whimper and half-squirm away. He holds you down firmly, but with such tenderness. “Stay still, for me. If I make you cum just right will you soak my hand all sweet and warm?”

”I can’t…” you flush with inexplicable shame, “I don’t do that.”

”That’s alright…you just let me take care of you.” He sounds like he’s coddling a wounded bird just before he begins curling and massaging inside you with a tiny smirk on his face that seems to claim he knows something you don’t.

Never before has anyone’s touch dismantled you so perfectly, and you’re soaked and dripping; wet, heavenly sounds filling the room to mark your pleasure.

“No messes for my sweetheart? Just a neat and tidy little baby?” He taunts as your thighs begin to tremble, “I think you’re lying. maybe not with someone else, but I know you’ve worked this pretty, wet cunt just right…ruined your sheets, had to fight to stay quiet so no one would hear—“

With a cry that could be mistaken for agonized, you let go…barely there-tiny bursts of slick sprinkling across his palm like a spring mist. Were he a garden, he would bloom so beautifully under the kiss of your meager shower.

“There we go, sweetheart,” your eyes are locked in on his arm, watching the muscles turn and twist as if you’ve been hypnotized. “C’mon, just a little longer, relax, sweet girl, relax…”

It’s like lying in too-tall grass on a breezy day. Warm and gentle like an embrace, and his voice is ferrying you through it all so sweetly. How could she have ever given this up?

When you begin to tense against his ministrations, he pulls back delicately and pats the inside of your thigh, huffing the softest sigh of a laugh, “And you said no messes.”

“Jake,” your hands are instantly hiding your eyes, face sparking heat with a euphoric fluster.

“You did good, baby.” He whispers, kissing a path along your shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about that for a very long time.”

“Please,” your entire body is still inwardly writhing and you can’t manage much more.

“Please what?” His hand, so gentle and soft, drags yours downward to wrap your fingers around himself. He is thick, throbbing rhythmically, and so hard, “You want that?”

He sounds in control, but it’s all there for you in his eyes, he wants this badly. He needs this. He needs you…and not simply because it’s been months.

Grabbing his free hand from where it is resting beside your head against the mattress, you guide it down until his fingers are stroking delicately across you, wetting his touch, warm and silken, “You want that?”

He visibly falters, face ducking to find solace in the crook of your neck, “I want you,” he whispers so airily you aren’t even sure you’ve heard him, “I want you so fucking badly. Please, baby…”

His voice is hushed, dragging across your skin hot and wet, desperate and hungry, you couldn’t deny him even if you were crazy enough to want to.

“You don’t have to beg,” you promise, hands now petting through his hair. “You take what you need, Jake…it’s all for you.”

”I need to get off again first,” the words sigh warm against the shell of your ear, “I’m too close. You’re so pretty and warm, and you smell so good. My sweetheart.”

”Well, look who gets soft when he’s this hard.” You tease, gently stroking the cashmere tip of his cock against your clit. “You cum as fast as you need to, let me do this for you.”

Again, his beautiful face drops to hide away, mouth sucking chills into your throat.

“I don’t want to be that guy.” He confesses, sounding shy in a way you’ve never heard before. “I want to get you there, too.”

You reach down deep and find your nerve, “Is this a one time thing? It’s okay to say yes.”

At last, his stare finds yours, “I certainly fucking hope not.”

”So, you’ll owe me one.” You shrug with a cheeky smile to soothe his nerves.

”No.” he shocks you with a fervent shake of his head as he lines himself up, nudging in gently with his pillowy soft tip, “I’m gonna get you off, baby…right on my cock.”

Dirty fuck, who would’ve thought?

”Deeper, Jake,” you’re whining already, fingernails sinking into his shoulders to pull him in closer. “Fuck me.”

”Say it again.” He orders, kissing a path along your jaw.

”Fuck me,” you repeat as though you know nothing but how to follow him into the woods, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please…”

His cock is right there teasing at you, barely inside, working your entire body into a frenzy, you want it so badly.

”Please?” His nose Eskimo kisses yours, “You’re begging very sweetly. You sound like an angel.”

“Haven’t I begged enough?” The words pant out of you warm against his lips and that - the taste of your aching need, shoves him over the edge.

Hips rolling, he slides into you like he was made to fit. The stretch is a lovely, stinging heat that claws a blissful cry from deep within your lungs. It's his favorite sound, he decides in an instant, and he wants to listen to it for the rest of his life.

As if the two of your were created simply to share this together, he fits inside of you perfectly, nestling against that sweet, hidden spot over and over until your back has arched away from the sheets and your nails scratch at him for purchase.

”So soft and tight,” his praise is but a breath, “You feel so fucking good.”

”I’m close,” you whisper back, cunt gripping at him violently, “don’t stop.”

”Wait for me, sweetheart…” he sounds filthy and angelic all at once. “I’m almost there, just…fuck, just wait for me.”

”Inside,” have you even made a sound? “Do it inside, Jake.”

”Are you sure?” He slurs, drunk off of you and ready to melt.

”Yes,” you nod frantically against the pillow, knotting your hair, “Do it. Fucking do it.”

Lost for words, he replies with a growl that takes that tightened coil deep in your belly and snaps it into pieces.

”Oh fuck,” his body tenses against you, thrust losing rythym as you flutter and clench around his twitching cock. “Gonna cum, baby, yes…you feel so…fuck…”

You watch in awe as his face twists gorgeously, eyes rolling back before squeezing closed, lip curled into a delicious snarl - and then, with a drawn out groan of your name, he collapses against you, kissing gratitude and love against your throat until the tickle of his hair makes you giggle.

”Get off me,” you laugh, shoving at his shoulders tenderly as he rolls to his side, smiling prettily at you like a kid in a candy store.

”You have magic between those pretty thighs.” He sighs, smoothing your hair. “I’m gonna tear solos up about it. Write the dirtiest riffs and licks all about that perfect pussy.”

”You’re fucking disgusting,” you sigh back, attempting to chase down your breath, “and such a guy.”

He pulls you in close, tucking his body, slick and hot, into your own, “Shh, you love me.”

Maybe he doesn’t mean it that way, and maybe you don’t either, just yet…

…but maybe you will.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @lvnterninthenight @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama

[katuschka]

Touch Starved Pups – One

Jake Kiszka x f!Reader x Josh Kiszka 4.011 words

Welcome to Part One of the story about what happens to two well-behaved, bored and horny romantics when a new feisty, worldly and hot social media manager enters the building...

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): expressive language, promiscuous behaviour, unprotected sex (or still rather just allusions to it , just setting the scene...), oral sex, handjob, kissing, twinfight, fistfight, angst, mockery, consensual teasing game that's borderline exploitative, slightly toxic behaviour...so, to sum it up, this is pure rock&roll filth, folks.

Also, if you like the story and want to get notifications for future updates, you can join the Taglist or see the Masterlist

Hooked? Read Part Two.

I know who I am when I'm alone

I'm something else when I see you

You don't understand, you should never know

How easy you are to need

Don't let me in with no intention to keep me

Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me

Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

Walking down the photo pit after all the other photographers cleared off is my favorite part of the day. Or night, to be more precise. That’s when I shine: strutting along, ready to capture all those best moments that make all you bitches go feral during AND after the show. This is my queendom. I make content for you lot. And I’m damn good at it.

How do I know that? The numbers just skyrocketed after I joined the team. Ka ching! All those poor things that came before me had no idea how to do their job. Tried to do some lifeless artsy shit that might be good for booklets and collectors’ crap that only collects dust, but not followers. They listened to what the band and their management wanted, but that’s not how it’s done. Nuh uh. I listen to you, my dudes. Your screeches, howls and cries. Some say that you’re crazy, but I know better. I’m here to observe what drives you crazy, and then I shall stir it up even more. When it comes to online content, the only thing that matters is what YOU want.

Make no mistake, I create art too. The crucial difference is that it’s not shit. Socials need candid eye candy and I’m here to provide it. 

I gotta admit, they make my job quite easy. All four of them do, but the twins are human masterpieces. Born pretty, they gradually learned that they could monetize it just as much as their respective talents. I didn’t need to come up with a strategy; it’s always been there for the taking. The fact that my predecessors have been mostly ignoring this is a mind-boggling mystery to me. Those guys know for sure that they ruin your panties. I just needed to know how.

So I rolled up my sleeves and went down to the barricade to do my research. Marketing’s no rocket science. Veni, vidi, vici. I just looked at them through your eyes and your own photos, and let me tell you – you bitches aren’t crazy, you are right! Yeah, I saw it too. And I get it. Some people in the team wanna keep pretending that it’s all about the music – which is surprisingly good, by the way – but that’s not what makes you sleep in the dirt and sit on a curb for days, and then again…and again. Those sons of bitches basically fuck on stage, looking very tasty while doing so. Especially Frodo and Patchybeard. Whether it’s a guitar, a mic stand or just plain air – they just shag it! Y’all look like you can feel it, and they’re very well aware. It strokes their egos, so they just keep adding fuel to the fire. The first time I saw that, I just stood there with my mouth wide open and just laughed, and laughed, and laughed. It was a fucking orgy! And then, when it was time to walk into their bright conference room and pretend to do some serious business for a change, I put on my super serious and super professional face, and I told them what needed to be done. 

Let’s just take your usual fangirl stuff and make it official. Sorry, not sorry. You crave it, so what. I keep the Facebook page artsy and businesslike for those gramps and music snobs that would go batshit crazy if they saw any more pictures with sweaty “jummies”, sparkling dicks and marshmallow balls; but anywhere else, it’s a party. 

Some of you keep wondering why they behave like such frenzied horndogs all the time. My lovelies, the explanation is pretty simple. It’s because they are! You wanna know if they are like that in real life? Yes, the answer is yes! It’s good for the show, sure thing, and they’re both true born professionals creating a breathtaking spectacle. “It’s all for you, bla bla bla!” But the truth is that they’re naturals, not really much different offstage. Lusty, filthy, bad. 

Just kidding. They’re sweethearts. Lust-driven, whiny pups that want to be played with. When the show is over, they both follow me backstage like the good boys that they are, wagging their tails at me enthusiastically. 

Ooops, what did I just say? Lemme put my fingers to my mouth and giggle like a coy lady that I’m not. Some of you already suspect it anyway, and it was collectively decided that you should hate me with passion. I guess now I’m famous, too. D’oh!

So, yeah… When I said that it was there for the taking, I forgot to mention that I also wanted to take it. Life on tour is lonely and stressful. I’m not immune to that either. Sex helps. That’s why the rockstars of yore kept fucking everything that dared to come close while they were all high as a kite. Because why not…well, apart from the fact that unlike good sex, drugs actually ruin lives. No, I’m not a fan. 

Times have changed and today’s musicians – and I’m not talking about all those wannabes with backing tracks – really need to work hard to earn their bread.They’re self-aware and sober (Take that with a pinch of salt…they’re sober while actually working.). Often homesick. Sure, some of them are still jerks or junkies. Or both. Not a fan of these either. I worked with some and it was a nightmare. 

But, when I joined the Greta Van Fleet team, I found a bunch of down-to-earth and touch starved homeboys, well aware of their power but hesitant to act upon it. That’s the difference between having a huge dick and being one. They’re – and now let me let out a sob or two for the dramatic effect – gentlemen! 

You know what a sweetheart with a huge dick is? That’s your dream come true. Believe me. That’s just something you want. I certainly did.

Not from the start, though. No. They treat the crew like friends and family, and as much as that was certainly a pleasant change, I wavered initially. They were all so kind and gentlemanly that I just decided to keep my friendly distance, thinking they really were such mama’s boys that they appeared to be…The impression didn’t last long. Soon I heard them making jokes and lewd comments when they thought no one was listening. Some of those comments were about my bouncy ass, too. 

Men, am I right? 

Alas, sweethearts’ dicks are still just dicks, and neglect will gradually take its toll. I could see right through their nervous ticks. 

Jake was the first one that fell into my snares. I didn’t really pursue it; I’m not a monster. Like I said, we were lonely and stressed, and so it just happened one fine day. He craved human contact, and I was there. Life is complicated, but certain things are still pretty simple. Thank god, or whatever supernatural entity you believe in. 

It was a lovely evening in his 2-storey hotel apartment. He often got those, because the others had this habit of gathering together in his room to discuss business – since it was his band – and to get shitfaced in the process. 

We were both sitting cross legged on his bed, both already pleasantly booze-soaked and shrouded in semi-darkness, the only source of light being the dimmed lamps in the main room. I had been giving him a lecture on the importance of a good online presence that evening. Or at least I was trying to do that… When the others got a bit too rowdy, we retreated to his bedroom to have some privacy.

When it comes to online shit, Jake’s the most difficult one. He doesn’t like it. Plain and simple. He had created this cute mask of a smooth and aloof poet slash ancient adventurer, behind which he hides, but you bitches don’t like that. You like watching him talking to his SG in front of thousands like she’s his obedient whore. See, there’s a certain discrepancy in that. I kinda understood where it was coming from, him being in his element onstage and all that shit, but I also needed him to understand my point.

And it was tough. He’s complicated. He likes to pretend to be a tough, mysterious guy, but deep down he’s just a shy and wide-eyed fawn that bounces when you say “boo”. Not always, mind. I learned that  the hard way once when I was leaving his room with scarlet imprints of his fingers on my thighs. However, drunk Jake is a meek and needy cutiepie. I could definitely use it to my advantage. So I poured us more drinks. 

“I dunno, s’not really me,” he countered after I tried to explain one more time. 

I showed him another one of the most recent videos. “Are you telling me this is not you?”

I grew really fond of his quiet “hahaha” every time he felt discomfited and flattered at the same time. Just like now. Stroking his chin with his finger, he shifted nervously and continued: “Well, yeah…uuum…you like this?” 

That was the moment when I knew I had him firmly in my grasp. Yeah, Jakey, I reeeeally like it. Let me just show you how much.

I seized my chance. We laughed and joked and flirted and all that shit. Talking about his desirable body parts that y’all take snapshots of soon turned to physical manifestations and before we knew it, his fly was open, his fat cock hard and out and firmly in my hand. I brushed my thumb gently over his pink and already leaking head before I wrapped my fingers around his shaft once again and started pumping him slowly. He just sat there and watched me with his lips parted, both mesmerized and taken aback by how quickly things escalated. I returned his stare, looking him firmly in the eye while I quickened my pace, and his breathy exhales turned to full-fledged, loud moans. I tried to shush him by forcing my other thumb in his mouth… and that only made it worse. There were still other people in the adjacent room and the door was open, but he just wouldn’t shut up! I had to grab his chin and stick my tongue in his mouth to keep him quiet. 

That sobered him up a bit. He didn’t want me to stop, he just wanted to regain control. Our tongues wrestled for a few seconds before he grabbed my cheeks and returned the kiss in such a manner that made my pussy spasm. I liked that, and we continued like that until he came all over my fingers a few minutes later. Thankfully, someone put some music on in the other room and it muffled his moans a bit, because my mouth could no longer contain them. He howled in it. It was hot.

You know, I’ve had the misfortune to cross paths with assholes who’d just throw me out after that, both satisfied and ashamed that my skills made them finish so quickly and unceremoniously, without fanfare and praises. Not Jake. He had to reciprocate AND prove himself at the same time. He’s vain, but in a good, gentlemanly way. 

After everyone else left, he just fucked my brains out. It surprised me how much he wanted to kiss, and not just my lips (either kind). His tongue was running marathons all over my body, and if I remember it correctly, I think I came five times that night. Not my record, but still a very impressive first-time. 

After that, he just kept crawling back to me, stopping me in empty hallways just to whisper obscene poems about my hungry pussy in my ear. Talking about how he’d feed me. 

He’s a sly one: the kind of a man that would run his fingertips gently down your spine in a room full of other people, while talking casually about fucking you raw, only for you to hear. I mean, that’s exactly what he did once or twice. I’m sure our “conversations” always looked completely innocent from a distance, with only Josh sometimes watching us with his lips pursed. Sometimes his eyes even narrowed a bit. That feisty chipmunk knew from the very start, and I thought I could spot jealousy in that piercing stare of his. I enjoyed that, just as much as Jake enjoyed making me wet in public, and calling it “retribution”. Honestly, I didn’t mind. Punish me as much as you want, baby, and keep using all those fancy words while doing so. Yeah. 

I’m a born provocateur, so I often just asked for more. Every time I saw him start licking his lips absentmindedly, I struck. In the end, it was always him who had to calm down, to keep it cool…to hide his hard dick. 

We both loved it. It was our little fight for dominance. We teased each other and then there would be a reward. 

It was a bit different with Josh. He’s a lover, not a fighter. He doesn’t need to fight for dominance and so he often rejects that role voluntarily.

At first I thought he wouldn’t be interested at all, even though his grabby hands landed on my bare skin more often than some would deem comfortable. But he’s like that with everyone! Including Bob, the chalice filler. It often doesn’t mean a thing. 

I knew it meant something when he almost grabbed my ass once. I tried to experiment with the same strategy I once used on Jake: using his own weapons against him, making him cross the friendly line.

It happened during a soundcheck while I was showing him a preview of my next scheduled post. His weapon was right there, on full display, and I further accentuated it by a subtle, punny caption. It made him giggle and I winked at him. 

“So, you okay with this? I mean, it’s all over the internet anyway…”

“Dear sparrow, if I weren’t okay with this, you wouldn’t be able to take such a lovely picture of it.” His hand first landed on the small of my back familiarly, just like it always did, and as we talked about other pictures in the carousel, I felt his fingers move even lower until the tip of his pinkie slid under the hem of my pants. I cleared my throat ostentatiously and he drew his hand away quickly as if I had burned him. 

“You know, I should report you for harassment for this,” I said matter-of-factly, still looking at the screen, trying to look both cool and unphased, but the twitch in the corner of my mouth gave me away. A true master of reading such subtleties, he slapped his fingers with his other hand and grinned at me. “Naughty me. Can’t blame me. You just smell so nice, sparrow. What is that?” 

“Hypnotic Poison.”

“Right…” He licked his teeth in a vain attempt not to grin even more. To be hundred percent sure, he still asked me if I wasn’t mad. Sure I wasn’t. I had been waiting for this. 

We parted after that, minding our respective businesses, but all those fleeting glances he cast my way during the rest of the afternoon didn’t escape my attention. Later, just before the show, he cornered me in the bathroom, startling me. I almost poked my eye out with a mascara when I noticed him standing right behind me. “Jesus Fucking Christ on a stick, Josh!”

“Yeah, I’m all that.” It was obvious he wasn’t there to take a leak as he kept watching me watch him in the reflection and his eyes grew darker. I slowly turned around and ran my finger down the hem of his low neckline, even more slowly. Tentatively, almost. Never breaking eye contact and with his lips slightly parted, he let me go lower until I reached the zipper head and tugged at it playfully. 

“Black velvet really suits you, you know?” I teased.

“Yeah, I know.” 

Cheeky brat. You wanna play, baby? Let me show you how it’s done. I slipped the tips of my fingers under the hem of his cleavage until I found his left nipple and started running circles over it with my middle finger. His breath hitched and his eyes widened before he seemingly regained his composure and flashed me a sly smile. 

“So…ummm…you and Jake are…exclusive?”

“Wow, you’re pretty straightforward,” I laughed. “No, we’re not. Just having some fun. Why?” 

Why, indeed. He made it pretty clear why, and I let my tongue give him the answer he desired. After the show that very night, he knocked on my door with a shy smile plastered on his face after I opened it. I welcomed him in.

Josh never fought me. He always presented himself on a silver platter and let me do whatever I pleased. Then he repaid me when the payment was due. My initial impression of him being a pillow princess wasn’t completely off, but my god! The man can fuck! Never try to piss him off. Or you know what? DO try to piss him off, because it turns him to a jackhammer. 

I once called him a sissy and the wrath that poured down on me afterwards made me see stars. 

So that’s how it went. They both knew what was happening behind closed doors with the other one, and both were ok with that, as long as it didn’t interfere with their own plans. And that was just a matter of time. 

To tell you the truth, I did wonder what it would be like to have them both, so when the opportunity presented itself, I would be a fool not to encourage it. 

Every once in a while, there are shows where shit just happens and everything that can go wrong, does do wrong. It was one of those nights. Even back at the venue, right after the show, I saw how both their faces were twisted with tension, and maybe the best way to avoid even more trouble would have been to avoid them altogether. They weren’t the only people who had a rough night. I was exhausted, too. If I were a bit more responsible, I would have settled for a nice hot bath and a filthy book, but sadly, I’m a people pleaser. Also, nothing can calm me down better than the smell of male skin.

It was long past midnight when I heard a knock on my door. 

“It’s me, Bebe. Please, let me in.” 

That’s right. He gave me that nickname shortly after we started fucking, even though I teased him that he would never beat those allegation that way. 

If you guessed that I indeed did open the door, you’re right. He didn’t even wait for the invitation to enter this time. The stress was doing us no good. I could smell even more troubleon the horizon, but I ignored it.

“Jake, you can’t just storm inside like this. What if I had company?” It was no use to argue with him. No longer sober to begin with, he was already making himself at home and pouring himself another drink. 

“Please, Bebe, stop teasing. I need you! I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Well, tough luck! Josh asked first.”

“Oh no, no no no! It’s my turn, baby! You can’t do this to me. Tonight was hell. Call him and tell him that you’re mine.” I shot him a sharp look, so he added quickly: “... for the night. ” Well, that only made it worse. 

Funny how quickly they got accustomed to the fact that I was just within reach. I would have been offended if I weren’t aware of how insolently I played with them too. Still, I should have said no, but I’m just human. 

However, the whole situation was already a bit more complicated than that. “I can’t. He’s already here.” 

Jake cast me a confused look before he smiled sympathetically at my feeble attempt to get rid of him. “Where? Hiding in the closet?”

“No, he’s in the shower.”

He just stood there for a short while, contemplating something, before he grabbed my cheeks with both hands and whispered sultrily: “Please, love, just a blowjob then. Your mouth can do wonders, baby. I beg you.” Noticing that I wavered, he bent closer to whisper in my ear: “You can ride my face anytime you want. You know that.”

Again, I should have said no, but the said mouth already started watering when I noticed the rapidly growing bulge. Mentally, he was already hitting my tonsils. I was on my knees in seconds. I knew Josh usually took his time, so maybe it was manageable. And if not…well, surely there was a way to benefit from the hypothetical pickle, should it happen.

And it happened. I was deepthroating him with both his hands holding my head and his head tilted back, when we heard the door open.

“Jesus fuck, Jake!” 

The moment of surprise made me gag. Jake withdrew quickly and started tugging himself back in his pants, which wasn’t easy, given his current state. Josh, however, just stood there completely and unabashedly naked. “Get out!” he bellowed, completely forgetting that it was in fact MY room they were both in. 

“No,” Jake spat back.

They started barking at each other like berserk chihuahuas. I swear, I was seconds from throwing them BOTH out, dicks out and all. They could keep shouting at each other in the hall or even in the main lobby for all I cared, but the wicked creature in me wanted to see how this would escalate. And it escalated majestically. 

I hadn’t bothered to unpack my suitcase earlier that day. It just lay open on the floor with my purple vibrator placed haphazardly on top of my lingerie. Jake spotted it, bent down to retrieve it and before I could argue, he thrust it against Josh’s bare chest while his other hand patted his cheek: “Here, this should do. Now bugger off!” 

I think I stopped breathing for a second. They teased each other quite often, but this seemed downright mean, even to their standards. I think Jake realized it too, but it was too late. We both watched the flames that appeared behind Josh’s dilated pupils and before either of us could react, Josh started after him and pushed him against the wall. And so the party started. In a matter of mere seconds, Jake fist almost collided with Josh’s jaw. Thankfully, Frodo is quite nimble, so he ducked the blow and striked back, his knuckles colliding with Jake’s forearm. Watching them wrestle like that, fuming, limbs intertwined, I was almost sorry I had no popcorn at hand. It was a comical sight: Josh still completely naked, Jake barely tucked back in his jeans. 

Have you ever seen puppies fighting over a toy? That’s them. They were both so needy and neither one ready to give up. It was time to seize the opportunity, so I… started laughíng. Loudly and mockingly. They both let go of each other and turned their heads to the source of that offensive sound: me. 

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, leaning back on my arms and with my legs crossed, contemplating my next move. Realizing I had no panties under my punto tube dress, I decided to Basic Instinct them. Sure, nothing new, but men are simple creatures. A naked pussy is like the Moon they howl at. It’s always new. Moreover, the fact that they never saw me like this before together was surely a great bonding experience of its own. I watched their faces for more clues and grinned viciously when I saw exactly what I hoped for. See, they’re different in many ways including this. Jake licks his lips, while Josh clenches his jaw. I tutted at them, watching how they both raised their eyebrows in a silent question. 

“Guys! You both know very well that I got more than one hole.”

Hooked? Read Part Two.

@its-interesting-van-kleep @takenbythemadness @edgingthedarkness @writingcold @ignite-my-fire @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @thewritingbeforesunrise @wetkleenex-gvf @lyndz2names @emojakekiszka @hollyco @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @cheersdannyx2 @gvfstuddedmajesty @gvfmarge @dayumclarizzel @musicislove3389 @lipstickitty

[gretavangroupie]

Saudade

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 16.6k

Warnings: Cursing, Drinking, Heartbreak, Angst, Sexual Themes, Mentions of Disbandment, Mentions of Estrangement. Smut: Dirty Talk, Touching, Kissing, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Oral M!Receiving, Edging, Protected and Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I know this is not your typical story, being set twenty-five years in the future, but I hope you will stick with it until the end. Though this was only planned to be one part, I could definitely see this having a part two in the future. As always, thank you so much for reading, liking, reblogging, etc. It means more to me than you know!

OCTOBER 2049

NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE

It was almost the same. Twenty five years later and not much had changed. Maybe the owners, the patrons, the furniture and the drink specials, but wholly and truly it was almost exactly the same as it was back then. It’s dark, and poorly lit by a string of multicolored Christmas lights around the perimeter. Dusty college pennants line the walls, and the sound of billiards balls smacking together still ring through the air. 

The clientele has changed a bit since the last time you were here. Instead of a younger, edgier crowd, the bar is filled with people your own age. Quite possibly reliving their own glory days. Your mind flashes back to a night full of blurry memories and cheap beers, this very bar packed to the brim with friends and familiar faces. It was a night of celebration amongst your peers, the pre-party before the main event, so to speak. It was all a blur now, but it was a memory you’d held on to for all these years, and in a way you all did. 

You bring your glass to your lips, sipping at the now watered down Gin and Tonic. Your phone buzzes on the bartop in front of you, your screen showing a message in your recently resurrected group chat. All it took was a single photo of the bar and they knew. A memory unlocked over twenty years later. You’d all talked about meeting up again. Coming back to the city where you all met each other, but years passed and life got in the way. It never happened, and that was okay. The friendships never faltered. Those remained a constant, even after all this time. 

They couldn’t believe you were here. You told them you were going to come, and why wouldn’t you? When you found out the conference was taking place in Nashville it was nearly the first thing that came to mind. You knew you had to stop in to take this picture just for them. It felt sad almost, being here without them. You knew it wouldn’t be the same, but just being here in this place you have such fond memories of felt good. 

A large group descended upon the bar as you arrived, huddling around the bartop ordering drinks and shots. They were loud and rowdy, but you didn’t care much. You know that was you once, and you hope they will look back on this night much the same way you look back on the night you spent here in the company of your friends. They hung out there for most of the night, a few people from their group leaving to hit the pool tables, or step outside to smoke. You kept to yourself, enjoying your drink in such a nostalgic place as you made conversation over texts. 

Now though, as your drink was melted and your skin was feeling warm they decided to leave. They cleared out of the bar quickly, taking the noise and the vibrant energy with them. Now that your view is unobstructed you turn your head to look down the bar. It’s mostly empty, only a few people left sipping their own drinks. You bring your glass to your lips as you observe the people around you.  It’s quiet and dark and your eyesight really isn’t what it used to be. The man about ten chairs down from you seems to do the same, finally able to see more than the horde of people that made the bar their home all evening. He looks to his left and right, taking in his surroundings the same way you did. He turns his attention back to the television hanging behind the bar, watching whatever football game is happening in the stadium down the street. He’s leaning back in his chair, his right hand fixed on his glass as his left scrolls on his cellphone with a few flicks of his thumb. 

The bartender steps up to you, delivering your fresh drink and snapping your attention back ahead of you. 

“Thank you,” you offer, sending him a soft appreciative smile. 

“My pleasure, let me know if you need anything,” he answers with a nod of his head. 

You grab the new drink and bring the small black straw to your lips, letting the lime flavored bubbles flow over your tongue. The bartender stepping away has grabbed the attention of the man to your right, watching as he turns his head to meet your line of sight. You feel a rush of nerves flood through you, but as the man's eyes meet yours you feel something else. Something familiar and strange. It’s something you know, deep inside of you that's been buried away for years and years. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. 

He nods his head and gives you a small, pleasant grin and that’s really all it took to put it together. It hit you like a tidal wave. Connections in your brain that had been long severed, were finally finding their way back together. The tip of his chin, the familiarity of his smile, the dark twinkle of his eyes. This wasn’t just a handsome long haired man alone at a bar. No, it was Jake Kiszka. 

You quickly turn away, your eyes zeroing in on the labels on the liquor bottles across from you. You felt stiff as a board as you sat there, your heart pounding in your chest as your mind started to flash through hundreds of memories. Twenty years worth of music, and laughter and memories playing on fast forward. Your mind settles on one though. One in particular that sticks out the most, and probably the most painful one of them all. 

You can remember it clear as day. It was an overcast day in March, your phone buzzing incessantly on your desk. Over and over it rang and rang until you picked it up and answered the call. It was bad news, some of the worst you’d heard. “What do you mean a mutual separation?” 

How naive of you to believe something so good could last forever. Your small community of friends were devastated, unable to cope with the fact that the very thing that brought you all together was seemingly gone without warning. What you had is all you would ever have. It didn’t feel real. No more concerts to attend, no more music to look forward to. Nothing. It was just over. In the blink of an eye. 

Some fans took it hard, lashing out and picking fights. Some were okay, happy and eager to see what would happen with the four members in the future. Whether it be families or solo projects, you knew you would support them either way. What none of you expected though, was for all four of them to disappear. 

It was years before anyone saw or heard anything about them, collectively or singularly. They had gone into hiding, something they were good at. No marriage announcements, no birth announcements. Nothing. Even their social media accounts died that day in March. Everything was silent. It hurt, but it was almost better that way. 

Around the ten year mark there were whispers, rumors of a reunion. Small gigs here or there, but nothing ever really came of it. They were just that, rumors. There was no show, and there most definitely was no reunion. 

A few years later came an album celebration. The fifteen year anniversary of ‘Anthem of The Peaceful Army’. It was slated to be a large event, even a few people you knew planned on attending. Only two of the four showed up to the event that day and the online murmurings of sibling animosity were running rampant. You never heard anything else about the event, there was barely even a photo posted to prove it happened, but it did. Something changed that day in the park, and that was the last anyone had heard or seen anything from Greta Van Fleet. 

Now, fifteen years later you find yourself here, looking at Jake Kiszka, in the flesh. He’s older now, in his fifties with a few wrinkles adorning his face and his hair a bit lighter and streaking silver in a few places. He looks different, but in a way, almost exactly the same. He seems to carry himself much in the same way he always did, keeping to himself but exuding a powerful presence.

You toss back a gulp of your drink and make your way into the bathroom. You wonder if you’re making the wrong choice, leaving without saying hello, but you tell yourself that he will be here when you get back. You just have a feeling. 

You take a look at yourself in the bathroom mirror, swiping on a new layer of lipstick and tucking away a few errant strands of hair as you give yourself a pep talk. You take a deep breath and fix your top before making your way back out to your barstool, happy to find him still sitting in his seat. As you sit down you see him turn towards you, almost looking at you as if he wants to say something, but doesn't. 

You remember back then you always told yourself that if you ever saw him you would say hello. You’d walk right up to him and say hi with no fear at all. But you knew that wasn’t true, one look from him had you running the opposite direction. A single glance in your direction mid show nearly had you in cardiac arrest. However, you’d grown up significantly since then, and never before had you had an opportunity like this one. 

He bites his lips together and turns away, minding his own business as he sips away at his drink. You smile, noticing that his style really hadn’t changed much. Newer versions of his same tried and true staples hanging from his body. A pair of dirty old boots and a corduroy jacket, of course it’s Jake. 

You aren’t sure what has come over you, this sudden bravery taking you by surprise. You turn your barstool just a touch, now facing him just a few seats away. 

“Jake?” you say, swallowing down your nerves. 

His head snaps to the side, his eyes growing in size as his face softens, “Yes?”

You’re shocked to say the very least, you hadn’t really planned anything past that. 

“Hi, um, I’m sorry, I just– I thought it was you but, I wasn’t completely sure. I don’t mean to bother you.”

He shakes his head quickly, “No, no. No bother at all. Have to be honest, it's been a long time since someone recognized me,” he laughs. “Several years at least.”

He stands from his stool and slides his drink along the bar as he walks towards you. You feel your heart rate increase dramatically as you swallow down your nerves. He takes the stool next to you, and now that he is directly in front of you there is no refuting that it’s him. His cologne is strong as you breathe him in, spicy and warm, everything you always expected. 

“I think I knew it was you pretty immediately, but it’s dark in here and all…” you smile. 

“Well, to be fair I don’t look the exact same as I used to, the years have been tough on me,” he laughs, fidgeting with his glass. “No one really recognizes me at all come to think of it, I’m a little surprised you did.”

“Oh, that can’t be true! I think you look the same!” you say, hoping to boost his ego just a bit. “Honestly, I almost didn’t say anything. I know you value your privacy and I really didn’t mean to bother you.”

He smirks to himself and nods his head, his eyes scanning over you as he lifts his head back up. He stops suddenly, grabbing your arm and turning it just a bit, feeling hesitant to touch you.  

“My god, I haven’t seen that in years,” he says, his face completely shocked. “It’s um, it’s the Age of Machine symbol, right? From the album?”

You feel your cheeks grow warm at the recognition, suddenly feeling a bit bashful about the ink. “Yeah, yeah it is. It’s in desperate need of a touch up, but yeah that’s exactly it.”

He runs his finger over it gently in admiration, his eyes growing dark and a smile pulled across his lips. “I loved that one. I still remember when that song came out,” he pauses, taking a pull from his drink. “Those were the goddamn good old days, weren’t they?”

“Yeah, they were. I think that one ended up being my all time favorite,” you say nervously. 

He releases his grip on your arm, and you mourn the contact, a sizzling fire burning through your skin at his touch. “My favorite album we ever cut. Always was.”

He sets his glass down and looks at you, really looks at you for the first time. His eyes drinking in the sight of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask for your name,” he says, still fixated on your face.

You sip at your drink, needing the alcohol to hit you quickly if this conversation was going to continue. “Oh, it’s Y/N, I’m sorry, it completely slipped my mind.” you giggle.

He takes in your name as if it’s a fine wine, tasting each syllable on his tongue. “Y/N…” He pauses, trying out the name on his lips. Feeling it roll off his tongue. He nods his head in a silent agreement, liking the way the name sounds falling from his mouth. 

“It wasn’t true, you know,” he pauses, biting his lips together, “I didn’t try to be…reclusive or whatever people used to say. It’s not that I needed privacy. Things were just so different back then. I had to recharge, everything was just so…draining, I suppose.”

You find yourself smirking at his choice of words, swallowing down your giggle before you speak. “Yeah, I totally understand. I always wondered how it affected you all, the constant traveling and recording. I can’t imagine it was easy.”

He smiles at you and sighs, tilting his head back a little. The memories flash through his eyes, old and fond.

“It wasn’t,” he admits, a bitter chuckle escaping him. “I loved it. I loved what we were doing. I loved the music and I loved performing in front of huge crowds. There was nothing like it, still isn’t. But it was so…exhausting. I felt like I would never be myself again.” He says, looking back at you, studying you for a silent beat.

You're unsure how to respond to that, feeling guilty for being part of the reason he felt that way, but also being the reason he was able to do what he loved in the first place. As if he can sense your unease, he moves to change the subject.

He clears his throat, “Anyway,” he says, shaking the memories from his mind. “You were a fan. How was that? Did you see many shows or–”

“Yeah, actually. Quite a few. My friends and I would meet up and go together. It was always this big thing, we would plan for months…It was a lot of fun. I think of those days a lot. Miss them often.” you answer, taking a sip of your drink. 

You notice his demeanor shift a bit, his tongue rolling out over his bottom lip as he listens. You can see his mind working, tumbling through his own memories no doubt. 

He nods his head while you speak, feeling a pang of jealousy in his chest at the mention of your friends. A hint of loneliness in his heart that you were able to share those memories with someone but he no longer could.

“It’s weird, you get so caught up in being…famous, I suppose, as corny as it sounds, that you almost forget what you’re doing it for. You do it to make people happy, to give them a night that they’ll remember, and you get to feel it in return. There’s nothing like that in the world,” he laughs breathlessly.

“So you miss it, then?” you ask nervously. 

He chuckles, looking at you. “Of course I miss it. I mean, I can’t say I don’t enjoy having anonymity again. There’s a level of safety and comfort in it, and I’ve learned more about myself and my needs since then, I’ve grown as a person. But at the end of the day I miss the performing, I miss the people, I miss the rush, I miss my brothers,” he says, taking another sip of his drink. “I miss all of it.”

You feel a pang in your chest hearing someone you adore so deeply confide in you about things so close to his heart. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine something like this. 

“So you…don’t speak to them? Your brothers?” you ask quietly, not wanting to prod too much. 

He sighs and his demeanor shifts, becoming cold and somber. The warmth he held earlier in his voice leaves him at your question.

“No,” he says firmly. “Not much. They’re doing their thing. I’m doing mine. We grew apart. It could’ve been avoided but…” He shakes his head, looking back at his half empty glass.

“We haven’t really talked in a long time. Especially lately,” he answers, his jaw clenches a little as he says it. “To be honest, I haven’t talked to Josh in years.”

“The two of you were always so close. At least, it seemed like that to us.”

“I thought so too. He’s my twin brother, my closest ally. I knew I could tell him anything, I knew I could count on him,” he says, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “Then everything happened the way it did and he left for California. We just…fell apart. Stopped talking for a while, and then we never really started again.”

“What about the others?” you ask, trying to pull his focus from his thoughts of Josh.

He clears his throat, shifting in his seat, his eyes flicking back to you.

“The others,” he says, taking a short breath as his mind runs down the old memories. “We talk on occasion. Sometimes, it’s a short conversation, talking about nothing. It feels like it’s hard to get through to them, to really connect in the same way we used to,” he explains, the sadness returning to his voice. “But when we do talk, it always feels like it did just a few years ago. Nothing’s changed between us but…the distance feels different. When your relationship with someone is built so heavily on one thing and then suddenly it’s taken away, you tend to fall apart from them too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I definitely understand that. I can’t lie, it makes me a little sad to think about it, but I guess that is the reality of life.”

“Yeah,” he says, resting his hand on his glass, “It’s certainly a hard lesson you learn early. Everything is fleeting, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t hold on to it, no matter how hard you try. Can’t live in your glory days forever.”

You sigh and nod, suddenly feeling the weight of the conversation hanging over you. “I always wondered if you would start your own thing.”

He perks up a bit, his expression turning cheeky again, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. “I did for a little bit there, if you remember…”

“Oh yeah, god, I almost forgot about Mirador. Whatever happened to that?” you ask, suddenly remembering his side project. He gives a bitter laugh and takes a long, deep drink from his glass.

“Mirador,” he says with a shake of his head. “It was just supposed to be a little side project. Just me and an old friend writing some songs, you know? Sadly, it just didn’t go anywhere, to be completely honest. I realized I couldn’t do the same thing again. People expected too much from me, and every little bit of the project was under a microscope. At least, it felt like it was. It felt like I would never be able to get away from Greta. It felt like I was trying to recapture the magic of an already good thing, but no matter what I did, or how much I put into it, it wasn’t the same. I wanted to break out of my brother's shadow, but that’s very hard to do when he’s the sun.”

“So you knew that we referred to the two of you as the sun and the moon, then?” you smile, hoping to lighten the mood. 

A small laugh escapes him, nodding his head. “Yeah I did. I remember that,” he shakes his head, “Me, the moon and my brother, the sun. It's incredibly accurate, I'll give you that.”

“So, you just stopped playing all together then?” you ask, tilting your head to rest on your fist. 

He shakes his head, a serious look on his face. “God, no. That’s a ridiculous question. Music is my entire life,” he says, suddenly realizing how intense that statement was. He softens his voice as he continues, not wanting to ruin this good thing.

“I couldn’t give that up, even if I tried I don’t think I could. I love it too much. I have a little set up in my house. Nothing super crazy, my old stuff, my favorite things, the stuff I can’t live without. I write and play almost every day, I go to the occasional open mic or bar, you know how that is,” he shrugs. “I just, I don’t do it for a living anymore. Haven’t for a while. But it still brings me peace. It’s still a part of me.”

“I think there are a lot of people that would still love to hear the music you write, Jake,” you say, a bit of seriousness coloring your tone.

He looks shocked, as if not expecting praise like that. He smiles at you, almost shyly. “I don’t know. It’s been a while, and I’m not the same musician I used to be. I’m– I’m out of professional practice, I mean, I’m not twenty years old anymore,” he says, laughing slightly. 

Your eyes flick down to his hands, seeing the callouses still prominent on his fingertips. “I don’t believe that.”

He looks down, his eyes following yours to his hands before flashing back to your face. He laughs again, “I’m serious. I don’t know if I even still have it in me anymore,” he pauses, bringing his eyes back to yours, looking into them as if searching for reassurance. “Playing in front of a few people and playing in front of thousands of people are very different things. It’s been a long time. I don’t know if I could do it again like I used to. I’m not half as good as I used to be.”

“Then you are right on par with every person playing now. You were always better than the rest, Jake, and you know that. Hell, half of the people playing guitar now were inspired by you in the first place. You playing at fifty percent is still everyone else's one hundred percent. And you didn’t win all of those awards for no reason.”

He looks at you, absolutely shocked by your praise. He can feel his heart in his throat, beating fast.

“I…” he stutters, at a loss for words. He stares at you, unable to do anything but listen. There’s such a conviction in your words, such a seriousness and passion behind what you’re saying that it makes his heart beat a little faster.

It’s not that Jake wasn’t used to being praised. In fact, it used to be his favorite thing on Earth. He had gotten used to compliments and applause for years, and soaked it all up. Hearing it from you, after being apart from that type of recognition for so long, was something he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“You’re giving me too much credit,” he teases, “You really were a fan weren’t you…” he says with a smirk. 

“Are, a fan…” you correct. “Just because the band isn't together doesn't mean that I stopped listening to the music you made.”

He looks at you quietly, his eyes flicking back to the drink in his hand as a small smile graces his lips. “You don’t know how good it is to hear that,” he says, almost under his breath.

“No one has forgotten about you if that's what you're thinking…”

He shakes his head, taking a long sip of his drink to mask his embarrassment.

“It’s not that I thought people forgot about me, I don’t have that kind of ego,”  he laughs. “I guess I just thought that people moved on, that’s all. It’s been a long time. But knowing that you still listen to it, that means a lot. Really, it does.”

You watch him resettle in his chair, turning his body to face yours a little bit more. You can see a sliver of his chest through his open shirt, his style still not changing through the passing years. His silver pendants still hang around his neck, shrouded by his long wavy hair. 

His fingers fiddle with the glass in his hand as he turns his body a little more to yours. He’s a little buzzed now, not drunk but not completely sober. He glances down at the exposed bit of your arm, eyes lingering on the ink that graces your skin. He takes another sip of his drink, the alcohol flowing through his veins, emboldening him just a little bit.

“So what about you?” he asks, his eyes raking over you before meeting your gaze. 

“Well, I've been here in Nashville all week for a work conference. Tonight is my last night here, so I decided to stop by here and have a drink. Needed to send a picture to my old friends to see if they remembered the place.” you confess.

He nods his head, listening as you speak. He can hear the nervousness coming from your voice, even though you’re trying to cover it up. He takes another sip of his drink, leaning a little closer to hear you better.

“A work conference? What do you do?” he asks, a curious look in his eyes.

“I'm a designer,” you answer confidently. “Mostly digital.”

He raises his eyebrows, a look of genuine curiosity on his face.

“A designer, eh? The artsy type.” He looks at you with an almost amused expression, a crooked smile on his face. “And you’ve been to this bar before?”

“Yeah, um, right before one of your shows actually. It was the opening night for the Starcatcher Tour…” you answer hesitantly. 

He nods his head, “I remember that show,” he says under his breath, more to himself than anything else. “That was a very memorable night.”

“It was, it was,” you agree, both of you letting your mind fill with the old memories. 

“That whole tour was one wild ride,” he pauses, letting his eyes flick over you. “So what else about you? Married? Kids?” he asks, sipping from the remnants of his drink. 

You laugh, “Oh, no, neither. I'm divorced actually.”

His eyebrows dart up, looking surprised. “Divorced? How long?” he asks, tilting his head a little as he studies you.

“It's been two years.” you answer.

He nods, “Three for me. Shitty club to be a part of,” he grins, trying to bring up the mood. “Not even a free hat.”

“You're divorced?” you ask in shock, “I didn’t even know you were married.”

He nods again, his eyes looking down, avoiding your gaze for a moment. “Yep, three years now. It, uh-,” he pauses, choosing his words carefully. His fingers wrap around his glass, twirling it in his hands. “It didn’t end well. At all.” he says, looking up at you. “Two beautiful kids though.”

“Of course they are,” you tease, nudging his shoulder.

He laughs, the first genuine laugh you’ve heard from him all night.

“They’re fantastic,” he says, the pride in his voice evident. “They’ve grown so much, too much. I don’t get to see them nearly as much as I’d like, but they are amazing. Oldest just started college, and my youngest is finishing up high school.”

“Boys?” you ask. 

He grins, a look of fondness in his eyes. “My son is following in my footsteps a bit, surprisingly. Loves music, plays several instruments, the whole deal,” he laughs. “My daughter, on the other hand, absolutely despises music and is an incredible athlete. I think she did that completely out of spite.”

“You're a lucky man,” you smile.

He looks up, his eyes meeting yours. In the low light of the bar, you can see the flecks of gold that are hidden in them.  He sighs, letting his fingers pick idly at the rim of his glass.

“I suppose I am,” he admits, the corner of his lips tugging upwards. “The craziest part of all of it is how much I miss noise.”

“Noise?” you ask, giggling.

He laughs, his eyes twinkling. “That came out wrong.”

“I mean,” he continues, “I miss the sounds of a family. I miss the sounds of little girls yelling in excitement, of boys getting angry because they lost their game, of music playing every day every where, of arguing over what to have for dinner or tour schedules. I miss that more than anything. Sometimes my house is just too quiet. I’ve never liked the quiet.”

You feel a twinge of sadness in your chest, knowing the exact feeling he speaks of. 

“I spent my entire life surrounded by it, shit, making it myself. I never ever knew a moment of peace, and it almost became comforting to me. Three siblings and a rock band will do that to you. But now it’s just quiet. Silent all the time, everywhere. You never realize how much you miss it until it’s gone. You’ve got no idea how silent an empty house can be until you’re forced to live in it.”

“I have a little bit of an idea,” you tease, finishing your drink. 

He raises his eyebrows, a sly smile on his lips. “That's why I come here,” he says, looking around the bar. “To find the noise.”

“A sticky dive bar?” you laugh, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass. 

“Exactly,” he says, nodding his head. “I’m sure there are a few nicer places I could go, but they wouldn’t be nearly as interesting,” he laughs, looking around. “There's almost always someone or something going on, music, people. It helps,” he shrugs, focusing on your face, “Fills the silence…Plus, it can’t be that bad if you found yourself here, too…”

You grin, nodding your head in agreement, “You make a great point, Mr. Kiszka.”

“I have my moments,” he says with a wink. He brings his drink to his lips, his eyes never leaving your face. He studies you as he swallows a sip, his eyes slowly looking over every part of you. 

“You said you are texting your friends,” he pauses, glancing down to your phone on the bar top, “Should we send them a photo?”

“Do you want me to send them a photo?” you tease, raising your eyebrow. 

He grins at you, his eyes flashing. “I think I do,” he says, his voice deep and sultry. He holds his hand out for your phone, “May I?”

You smile and nod, placing your phone into his hand. He hits the camera icon and opens the screen, the two of you appearing in frame in the dimly lit bar. 

His eyes are focused on the screen, snapping the photos, but for a brief moment he flicks his eyes down to you, smiling. He lets the camera click a few times for each shot, getting a variety. He looks at the photos for a moment, a cocky look in his eyes. His body brushes against your arm as he moves it, the heat traveling from his body to yours.

“Smile for me, love,” he murmurs, his voice close to your ear. A chill runs down your spine at his words, his breath warm on your skin. 

You grin as he snaps a few more photos, your mind reeling over the fact you were taking pictures at a bar with Jake Kiszka in the year 2049. 

He gives an almost cocky smile as he hands you your phone back, his fingers slowly tracing down your arm. “There,” he says, taking a long drink from his glass, the alcohol going straight to his head. “Pick whichever one, I think they’re all good. Actually, you should send them to me, too.”

What?

You hand him your phone, letting him type in his number and sending a few photos to himself. He hands it back to you with a nod, and you swear you can almost feel your heart stop. You quickly pick a few, sending them off to your friends, anxiously awaiting their replies. You giggle as you lock your phone and set it back on the bar top. “Thank you, for that.”

He smiles back at you, his lips still wet from the alcohol. “Of course,” he murmurs. He leans back in his chair, his shirt gaping open a bit more, his necklaces on display. His chest is tanned and strong, you notice that he has kept in shape since the last time you saw him. He lets his eyes flutter across your body, his fingers toying with his glass. 

“The least I could do after you’ve sat here and let me talk your ear off,” he laughs. “I should be thanking you,” he pauses. “It’s been really nice to reminisce with someone who remembers me when I was in my prime.”

“Who says you’re not, still?” you ask.

He laughs, his head cocked to the side. He looks at you again, his eyes raking over your skin. He lets the tip of his finger slowly trail down the exposed skin of your arm, drawing a small shiver from you. “That's awfully kind of you,” he murmurs, “But we both know that's not true. I'm not the same man I was twenty years ago. Definitely don't look the same. Not the rockstar I used to be.”

“It’s not the way we look on the outside, it’s who we are on the inside. And for what it’s worth, how you look on the outside is still just as beautiful as I remember. A perfect match for this,” you answer, pressing your finger to his chest.

His heart thumps wildly under your hand, a small gasp escaping his lips. He stares at you in shock, his breathing speeding up as your words and touch send heat through his body. He lets himself lean into your touch, enjoying the contact, savoring it. His eyes soften, looking at you with a different kind of look. He’s silent for a moment, just staring at you. When he speaks, his voice is raspier than before.

“You’re much kinder than I deserve,” he murmurs.

“I don’t think that’s true either, Jake,” you breathe. 

He laughs again, his breath slightly shaky. The way you say his name sends another shiver through his body, your soft voice causing his heart to beat faster. He lets his own fingers brush up to encircle your wrist, gently holding your hand in place against his bare skin. He feels the heat radiating from your skin into his own, the touch burning him like a white-hot flame.

His eyes never leave yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “Let me ask you a question.”

“What’s that?” you answer. 

He hesitates for a moment, the alcohol making him bolder than normal. His eyes are locked on yours, taking in every feature of your face.

“Did you ever receive a rose?”

You look down bashfully, fiddling with the ring on your finger, “No, actually. I never did. The people around me always did, but never me. I never got any of that kind of stuff.”

He can see the disappointment in your eyes at your confession. A frown creases his own brows. He lets his fingers run idly along the inside of your wrist, his skin craving the sensation.

His eyes darkened, “That’s a shame,” he murmurs. “But I can’t say I am surprised, my brother always did have a hard time seeing what was right in front of him.”

“Just wasn’t meant to be,” you whisper. 

He lets his eyes search your face, almost as if studying you. He lets his fingers slowly brush up the underside of your arm, the light touch leaving a trail of goosebumps across your skin. He can feel his heart still stuttering in his chest, the alcohol and the proximity to you making his head spin. He lets out a breath as he looks at you, his eyes flicking over every feature of your face.

“This is going to sound crazy, but,” he pauses, rubbing his fingers over his lips, “Would you like to come somewhere with me? I want to show you something.”

“Oh, like– like leave?” you ask, taken aback at his suggestion. 

He can see the surprise on your face and it makes him smile. He nods his head, his hand still encircling your wrist, his fingers tracing the shape of your arm. “It’s not far from here, I promise. Just a five minute drive,” he murmurs, his voice almost pleading. “I think you’ll like it, I’m sure of it.”

Your eyes dart around his face. Is Jake Kiszka really asking you to leave with him? 

“Um, I-” you pause, trying to decide if this is a good idea. You know this opportunity will never come again, so you make the decision to agree. “Sure. We can do that.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his lips curving up into a smile. He lets his eyes rake over your face again before finally releasing your wrist. He fishes in his front pocket, pulling out a roll of cash. He tosses a few bills on the bar, more than enough to cover his tab and yours. He then places his hand on your lower back, his fingers searing at the touch.

“Let's go,” he says gently, guiding you off the stool. “It's not far at all.”

You let him lead your outside into the humid late summer air, the humidity thick and heavy around you. He leads you to his car, opening the passenger door for you.

He walks around the front of the car, his heart hammering in his chest. He gets in slowly, his eyes raking over your body.

He starts the car, the engine rumbling to life. He rests his hand on the gearshift and looks over at you, his expression uncertain.

“Ready?”

“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?” you giggle, turning to look at him. 

He laughs, the sound low and slightly nervous. He keeps his hand on the gearshift as he looks over at you, grinning. “You’ll have to wait and see,” he teases. “You’re just gonna have to trust me on this one, love.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sentiment, nodding your head as you turn your eyes back to the dark road in front of you. He was right, it wasn’t long at all until you were pulling into a parking space at a park. It was dark, only a few stray street lights buzzing overhead. 

He steps out of the car, coming around to open your door. He offers his hand, the skin hot to the touch. He helps you out, holding your hand as he guides you out towards one of the lit sidewalks. He walks quietly next to you, keeping his stride short to match yours. The sound of crickets filters through the air, creating an almost peaceful hum.

He smiles at you, the warmth of his hand encompassing yours. “Almost there,” he murmurs, gently pulling you forward. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, the feeling of his hand in yours so gentle but so firm. The two of you walk down the sidewalk further into the park, finally stopping just in front of a large open area, with a single well manicured rose bush. A small gold plaque stands in front of it, but you can’t yet make out the words. 

He looks over to you, the corner of his lips curving up in a slight smile. He gestures to the plaque, his voice is soft, “Go ahead, read it,” he says, reluctantly releasing your hand. He stays put, shoving his hands into the pocket of his pants as he watches you with a smug grin. 

You walk over to the plaque, trying to focus on the weathered metal, but one thing is perfectly clear, the logo forever visible in your mind. 'Greta Van Fleet'. Your eyes focus harder in the low lighting, doing your best to read the old dedication. 

‘This White O’Hara rose bush, dedicated on this day, October 19, 2033, celebrates the 15 year anniversary of the release of ‘Anthem of The Peaceful Army’. Planted in memory of the adoring fans that made this dream possible, in the name of peace, love, unity and equality.’

‘They pass the torch and it still burns, once children then it’s now our turn.’

He stands there, silently watching as you read the plaque. The sounds of the night fill the air around him, crickets and cicadas creating an almost peaceful hum. He watches your face intently, searching for your reaction. He can see you taking in each word, the slight tilt of your head, the narrowing of your eyes as you read. He stays quiet, letting you digest every word. He lets his eyes fall over you, taking in the way the light of the street lamp hits you. Admiring you. 

You feel tears spring to your eyes as you let them take in the sight of the beautiful white roses, flourishing on the mature bush. The fragrance is overwhelming, the beautiful smell filling your senses. You turn around to look at Jake, seeing him smiling as you figure it all out.

He can see the tears in your eyes, his chest tightening at the sight. He silently watches you move closer to him, his breath hitching in his throat. He remains quiet, the words that he wants to say stuck in his throat. He swallows again, the intensity of his gaze never leaving your face as you come to a stop in front of him.

“Jake, this is so beautiful. It’s so– These are the prettiest roses I’ve ever seen.” you say, stopping in front of him. 

He lets out a shaky exhale, his breath mixing with the muggy summer air. He reaches out and tentatively places his hand on your elbow, the touch almost hesitant. His eyes never leave yours. He can feel his heart thudding in his chest, the beat echoing in his ears. He bites his lower lip, his breath coming out in a soft huff.

“They are…they’re perfect, truly,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to the beautiful white roses behind you. “My hard work has paid off I suppose.”

“Your hard work?” you ask.

He nods, his hand never leaving your arm. It moves though, ever so gently moving down to wrap around your hand again. He absentmindedly toys with your fingers as he speaks, his eyes still never leaving yours. He lets the edges of his lips quirk up in a wry smile. “I planted these roses. Well, Sam and I. And I tend to them now. I wanted something out here that would be here for years, centuries. I wanted something permanent.” He lets his eyes trail up your body, his gaze never leaving yours for a moment. “I wanted something eternal. This was sort of my last effort to fix things and– well, yeah.” 

“Jake it’s beautiful,” you breathe, “A beautiful tribute.”

His voice is husky when he speaks again, “You like it,” he murmurs, the words a statement. “I knew you would. But there is actually one more thing.”

He pulls away from you, releasing your hand as he walks towards the bush, reaching his hand into his pants pocket and pulling out a small pocket knife. His arm descends into the mass of leaves, fiddling with the knife before pulling out a perfect, bloomed rose. 

He turns back to you, holding the flower gently in his hand. The rose looks small in his hand, his fingers wrapped gingerly around the stem. He takes a step forward, closing the distance between you once more, quickly using his blade to shear away the thorns and leaves. He lifts the rose gently, the bloom just a few inches from your face, looking at you with unwavering eyes.

“For you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry it’s late.”

Your breath catches in your throat, accepting the rose from his hand. A smile parts his lips as he watches you bring it to your nose to breathe it in. “It was worth the wait.”

He lets a shaky exhale from his lungs, his chest almost hurting from how fast his heart is beating. He can feel his own breath get caught in his chest, his breath becoming labored at the sight of you with the bloom held in your soft hands. He swallows again, his eyes raking over your face. He takes a small step forward, the toes of his boots now almost touching your own. His voice is raspy when he speaks.

“I just wish it could have been sooner,” he mutters, his voice almost sad. He runs his hand through his hair, a slight flush of emotion crossing his face.

“I actually think I prefer this,” you breathe, letting your eyes flick up to his.

He lets out a disbelieving laugh, the sound filling the air around you. He can’t help the way his body reacts to your simple words, a rush of emotion surging through him. “Are you– Would you be up for one more adventure?” he asks.

You’d never felt more sure of anything in your life. You felt safe with him, you’d follow him to the ends of the earth. “Of course.”

He lets his smile grow bigger, a rush of relief coursing through him. He reaches to take your hand again, the skin warm against his own. He lets his fingers interlace with yours, holding on firmly.

“Good, then let’s go,” he says, pulling you along with him as you make your way back to his car, white rose in hand. 

He opens the passenger door for you, gently helping you into the car. He closes the door, coming around the other side, climbing back into the car. He starts the car, the engine rumbling to life again. He shifts the car into gear, pulling out of the park, the streetlights casting a harsh glow over his face as he drives. His hands are still shaking on the wheel, adrenaline still coursing through his body.

“That was really sweet of you Jake,” you murmur, “I’ll think about this forever.”

He can feel his heart skip a beat at your words, his chest tightening at the sound of your voice. He swallows, his eyes never leaving the road.

“I hope you will,” he says quietly, his voice still a bit shaky. He lets his grip on the wheel tighten as he speaks. The radio is off, the only noises coming from the hum of the engine and the sound of his breathing. “There is just one more thing I would like to show you.”

“I can't wait,” you admit, watching him turn into a neighborhood. You can only assume he is taking you back to his home. 

He lets his jaw clench, his eyes remaining trained on the road ahead. He feels the nervousness bubbling up in his chest as he continues driving, the familiar surroundings of his neighborhood coming into view. His house is still lit up, the outside lights leaving a soft glow on his expansive front yard. He pulls into the driveway, putting the car into park.

“This would be me,” he mutters, his voice low.

“This is your home? It's beautiful.”

He hesitates before turning off the car, his fingers still gripping the steering wheel. He lets his eyes glance at you before looking out at the house.

“It definitely was an upgrade back in the day,” he chuckles, still staring at the house, lost in thought. He finally lets his fingers slide off the wheel, taking the keys out of the ignition.

He opens the door, climbing out of the car. He comes around to your side, opening the door for you once more. He offers his hand to you, the gesture almost gallant. Once you’re out of the car, he closes the door behind you, taking your hand in his again. He leads you up the path to the front door, unlocking it quickly. His heart is beating fast once more, the blood rushing to his ears.

You take in the entry way of his home, grand and exactly what you expected his home to look like. “Wow, Jake, this is…”

The words leaving your mouth fill his chest with warmth, the anxiety from before replaced with a sense of pride. He lets the corners of his lips quirk up as he closes the door behind them, the sound cutting through the quiet in the house. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft. He glances down the hall, his expression slightly uncertain. “But the best part is back here...”

You follow him down the hallway, turning a few corners and stopping in front of a large wooden door. He twists the handle and pushes the door open, letting you enter first. You’re immediately captivated by the room, filled floor to ceiling with guitars, artwork, posters, and more memorabilia than you’d ever seen in your life. It was lit by a small lamp in the corner, the room glowing a warm amber color. 

He lets his eyes fall over the room, taking in the look on your face. The look of awe is what he had hoped for, and he feels a sense of pride wash over him. His chest is tight, his heart beating erratically. He takes a step into the room, the small amount of light casting shadows on the floor. He walks over to a small, low table, flicking on another, smaller lamp.

“This is my office, so to speak,” he says quietly, his voice soft. “But I'm sure you know what actually happens in here.”

“This is where you play,” you breathe, letting your eyes focus on the guitars lining the walls. One catches your attention immediately, your hand itching to run your fingers over the frets.

“Indeed it is.” He slowly turns to look at you, his expression half-hidden in the dim lighting. The shadows on his face make his features sharper, the hollows beneath his cheeks creating deep shadows that leave his face in contrast. “Had it built custom for the house, has sound proof walls and everything…My ex she– she got tired of the music all the time,” he laughed. “Had to make some compromises.”

“There is so much here…” you say, looking around in wonder. “I don't even know what to look at first.”

He watches as your eyes flit from item to item, trying to take it all in and process it all at once. 

“Feel free to look at whatever you want, touch whatever you want, I won’t stop you,” he assures and lets his eyes follow yours, watching as you look at all the pieces of his life surrounding you. 

You recognize some things, others are completely new to you. Photos you’ve never seen, and posters you only ever saw photos of, here now in front of your face. “I wish this stuff didn’t make me sad,” you confess, snapping a few photos of old tour posters. 

He takes a few steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face. He swallows and gently touches your arm, the contact sending sparks up his fingers. He can hear the sadness in your voice, his heart twists in his chest.

He stands close, his chest almost touching yours. He lets the edges of his lips quirk up into a slight smile. “I understand, trust me,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I can assure you there is something in here that may take the edge off.”

He makes his way over to a small shelf housing a collection of vinyl records, thumbing through the stack and pulling out a black cardboard sleeve. He pulls the vinyl from inside, revealing it to you in the light. The sticker on the front reads, ‘Test Pressing’ but offers no other distinguishing qualities. He offers you a teasing smile as he stands to place it on his turntable. 

He carefully places the record onto the turntable, his slender fingers handling it with a certain amount of reverence. The record player is old, the vinyl spinning with a soft crackle of static. He’s almost excited to hear it, anticipating your reaction. He stands next to the record player, his eyes darting from the spinning record to your face, watching as you process his actions. He lets his fingers rake through his hair, a slight smirk on his lips as sound begins to play through the speakers. 

Music begins to play, the familiar guitar tone striking a chord within your chest. You could recognize it anywhere, and just as you were about to speak, you hear Josh’s voice singing lyrics you’d never heard. 

“Jake, what is this?” you gasp. 

He watches as your eyes widen, your mouth parting slightly in surprise. He can see the disbelief in your eyes as you register the sound, a song you couldn’t place because it was never released. He can only respond with a small shrug, his heart twisting in his chest.

“I– I’ve never heard this,” you breathe. 

He gently steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving your face. He’s close enough to get a good look at your surprised expression, his heart still pounding. “No one ever has,” he whispers, his voice soft. “It was never released. Never made it past the studio.”

“Why not?”

He lets out a huffed laugh, the sound almost sad. He runs his slender fingers through his hair, his expression almost troubled. He lets his eyes flutter down to the record, his heart twisting in his chest. 

“Management thought it was too...” he trails off, struggling to find the right words to say. “It was too…intimate. Josh wouldn't budge on it. We all tried. We had so much other material...We could have gone a completely different direction. But Josh just–He wouldn't. Said it was this or nothing. This is ultimately what ended everything.”

“Oh my god, I– I had no idea.” you whisper, still hearing the beautiful and deeply personal lyrics playing in the background. 

He lets a sharp exhale of air leave his nose, his eyes still focused on the record spinning gently, the sound of Josh's voice filling the small room. His heart is still beating violently, the sound of it thrumming through his body. He shakes his head slightly, his jaw clenching.

He wants to reach out and touch you again, but he suddenly doesn't know what to say. He lets the moment stretch for a few more seconds before he speaks again. “I thought you’d like to hear it.”

“I just can't believe it. It's beautiful, it would have been perfect…”

He swallows, the lump in his throat refusing to go away. He nods in agreement with you, his heart aching. The song is beautiful, it’s sad and lonely and everything that he loves. He looks back at the record, his eyes narrowing as he focuses on the record spinning. 

“Yes...it would have been…” he mutters, his voice soft.

You feel the energy between you shift, his eyes are staring into yours, deep and dark, and you can’t seem to look away. His hands on your skin are burning through you like fire, and you can’t help but to fall deeper into the flames. 

He swallows, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. His eyes are locked on to your face, a mixture of sadness and something else in his gaze. He feels his fingers twitching slightly, almost itching to reach out and touch you again, the burning in his body becoming increasingly more intense with each passing second.

“God…” he mutters, his voice low.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling his warmth against your palms. His face is inches from yours, and you know in this moment that he wants you just as badly as you want him.  

The thumping in his chest increases, the sound of his heart beating in his ears almost deafening at this point. He can feel the tension in his body increase, his blood rushing through his veins. He reaches up, his fingers grasping the back of your neck, his body on autopilot at this point. He pulls you flush against him, the burning in his body increasing to the point of being almost painful.

He’s aware of the record still spinning in the background, but the only thing he can focus on is you. His hand slides up your neck to the back of your head, his fingers getting lost in your hair. He lets out a huff of air, the breath shuddering slightly, his body shaking. His eyes are focused on yours, the deep brown of them almost completely lost to the black of his expanding pupils. He feels your hands against his chest, the warmth of your body against his leaving a scorching trail across his skin. 

“Can I kiss you?” he breathes, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Please,” you whisper.

He lets out a growl as he slams his lips against yours, his hand in your hair pulling you in tighter against him. The action makes his heart jump, his chest tight and aching. He kisses you hungrily, his body on fire as he tastes you through the kiss. He parts your lips with his, his tongue exploring your mouth with an increasing sense of urgency.

He tastes of Whiskey and peppermint, his lips warm as they envelop yours. His hands are tight against your head, gripping into your hair so firmly it’s almost as if he believes you will float away. Your hands travel beneath the opening of his shirt, feeling his warm chest on your fingertips. A hum leaves his lips as his tongue twists with yours, his legs walking the two of you backwards to an oversized velvet chair. 

He moans as your fingers touch his skin, your warmth igniting something dangerous inside of him. He can’t help the way his body reacts, the way his fingers grip your hair a little more firmly, his body becoming almost starved of all things rational.

He continues to kiss you desperately, the taste of you leaving him wanting more. He guides you backwards, the back of his legs hitting the chair, causing him to stumble slightly before sitting down in it, pulling you into his lap without breaking the kiss.

Your legs straddle him, his hands automatically finding their way to your hips as he pulls you down further. He breaks the kiss, panting slightly as he pulls just far enough away to look at your face, his eyes raking over your features, taking in the flush creeping over your cheeks. “God, you're beautiful…” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly. “C’mere, sweetheart.” 

Your insides turn to a puddle as his words float through your mind. All you can focus on is the feeling of his hands on your body, and the taste of his lips on yours. You can feel him growing hard beneath you, his hips moving upwards to meet yours ever so slightly. 

He lets out a low moan as he feels you move against him, his body reacting immediately to the contact, a shiver rushing through his body in response. He lets his hands grip your hips again, fingers digging into the soft skin there, the motion making his heart pound. He leans back in, capturing your lips in a kiss, the action full of hunger and need. He can’t get enough of you, the warmth of your body against his own almost driving him insane.

You feel his hands trailing up your sides, sliding beneath the hem of your shirt as his lips move to press wet kisses to your neck. His hands stop just at the swell of your breasts, his fingertips gliding gently over the round skin. You pull away from him, looking into his lust blown eyes and nodding your head in approval. 

“Please, Jake,” you beg.

His eyes flutter at the sound of your voice, the sound of your plea making his heart jump in his chest. He lets out a low groan, his body almost shaking at the sound of you begging, his desire increasing tenfold. He lets his lips move back up to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there gently as you feel his fingers move up, gently skimming the underside of your tits, the touch light and deliberate.

“Tell me you're sure,” he demands. 

“I’m positive.”

He lets out another soft moan against your neck, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin of your sides. He runs his nose along the skin, his head spinning, his body already on edge, the sound of your voice fueling the fire within him. He leans back in the chair, his breathing ragged as he lets his eyes rake over your body, the sight of you straddling him on his lap almost too much to bear.

“Take your shirt off,” he rasps, his eyes glued to you.

You reach for the hem, pulling the fabric over your head as his eyes lock in on your bare chest. His hands move to cup at your tits, sliding around to your back and pulling you in towards his face until his lips connect with the plump skin. You feel his tongue swirling around your nipple as his hands move down your body, pulling your hips harder into his. He growls against your skin, alternating between sucking at your chest and nipping at the sensitive skin. 

“Jake,” you whine, tossing your head back as you revel in the feeling. 

He moans again as you say his name and pulls you tighter against him, his fingers gripping your body possessively, his need growing ever more urgent. “I need you on the bed, sweetheart,” he whispers hoarsely, his words laced with desire.

“So take me,” you answer, looking at his pink swollen lips. 

He smirks at your response, the sound of your words sending a shudder through him, his eyes dark and intense. He doesn’t need to be told twice. He moves quickly, his strong arms scooping you up off his lap and setting you back down on the floor. He stands, his broad stature leading you with ease as he walks out of the room and across his expansive house. 

He leads you to a large bedroom, the room lit only by a small lamp on the bedside table. He walks you quickly over to the bed, the plush comforter and pillows surrounding the king sized bed. He gently pushes you down onto the bed, his body towering over you as he stares down at your half naked body, his eyes practically black with desire.

You can feel the plush bedding beneath you, a dark navy color to compliment the jewel toned walls. Your chest is heaving with want for him, watching as he pulls his black linen shirt over his head.

He stands at the edge of the bed, his shirt tossed to the floor and his muscles taut underneath his skin. His eyes rake over your form on the bed, taking in every little detail, his need increasing by the second. He swallows suddenly, his nerves beginning to take over. It’s been so long since he’s done this with someone. He tries to push down the rising anxiety, his eyes never leaving your face.

You can see the unease on his face, sitting up on your elbows to look at him. “You okay?” you ask gently. 

His heart skips a beat as you ask him the question, the genuine concern in your voice pulling at his heartstrings. He lets out a soft huff of air, shaking his head slightly.

“Yeah…yeah I’m fine,” he reassures, but his voice betrays him, his words coming out as a whisper, his chest tight.

“You look amazing, Jake…”

He can feel another shiver run through him as you speak, your words pulling at him. He swallows, his chest getting tighter, his heart thrumming in his ears.

He takes another deep breath, letting his eyes rake over your body. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now,” he says quietly, his voice raspy and low, his eyes taking in the sight of you on his bed, your skin practically glowing under the lamplight.

“Touch me,” you breathe. 

He lets out a shuddering breath at your request, his skin prickling at the sound of your voice. He moves fast, closing the few feet between you and crawling onto the bed, his knee on either side of your thighs as he hovers over you. His hand gently cups the side of your face, his thumb tracing your jawline, his other hand running down your side, his touch feather-light. 

You reach up, running your hand across his chest, feeling the smoothness of his skin and the cold metal of his necklaces. You wrap your hand around his neck, guiding his lips back to yours as he lowers himself to hover over you. As his lips connect with yours you feel his free hand unbuttoning your jeans, and pulling the zipper down. 

Your kiss is harsh and needy, wanting him as close as you can get him. You lift your hips to help him slide your jeans off, leaving you in your underwear beneath him. His hand moves to cup at your heat, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his hair tickles your cheeks. 

He can feel the heat coming off of you, the sensation making him ache for more. He lets out a low hum as his hand runs between your legs, his fingertips gently running over your mound, feeling the heat and the wetness through your panties. He breaks the kiss, his head spinning as desire and need courses through his body. He peppers your jaw and neck with quick kisses, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin.

“God you're so perfect,” he whispers hoarsely, his breath coming out in short pants.

Your hips arch into his touch, silently begging him to remove the barrier between the two of you. “You feel perfect,” you whine, twisting your hand into his hair. 

He lets out a low growl as you pull at his hair, the sound driving him crazy. He can't wait any longer, the burning desire to taste you, to feel you, becoming almost overwhelming.

He lets his hand slip past the elastic of your panties, his fingers slipping through the wetness, a low moan leaving his lips as he touches you. “God you're so ready,” he breathes against your neck.

You whine as his steady hand guides his fingers over your clit, sending a lightning bolt of pleasure through your body. “Fuck,” you whine, “Keep– Keep going.”

He can feel the way you squirm beneath him as his fingers work between your legs, his heart thrumming in his chest at your reaction. He lets out a low groan, his fingers circling your clit as he responds to your request.

“Yeah?” he whispers, his fingers tracing and teasing. “Like that sweetheart?” he asks, delivering a particularly sensual swipe of his fingers. 

You hum in pleasure, letting your eyes flutter closed as you enjoy the sensation. You can hear his pendant tinkling together above your face, committing the sound to memory. He's painfully hard beneath his jeans, the feeling almost uncomfortable in his current position, but his focus is completely on the reaction he's getting out of you, the sound of your pleasure filling his ears, the feeling of your body beneath his fingers making his head spin. 

You feel his hand slide further down, three fingers sliding through your wetness before gently gliding to your entrance. “Two or three baby, you tell me what you want.”

“Tw-Three,” you stammer, quickly correcting yourself.

He lets out another low laugh against your neck, his tongue tracing a line up to your ear. “Good girl,” he murmurs, the sound of the words sending a shiver through your body.

His fingers slide back through your wetness, a soft moan leaving his lips as he presses three fingers in to the knuckle, the feeling lighting your body on fire. “You’re so perfect, sweetheart.” he growls, letting his fingers move perfectly inside of you. 

He lets out a low moan at the sound of his name on your lips, his fingers working inside of you, his knuckles rubbing against your inner walls. He's completely lost in your response, the feeling of you beneath him driving all rational thoughts out of his head.

“That's it, sugar, say my name again,” he commands, his voice low and breathy. “God, you feel so good around me.”

“Jake,” you whine, feeling his thumb move to rest on top of your throbbing clit.

He doesn’t stop his fingers, his thumb gently beginning to rub at your clit, the feeling and sound of you pulling another moan from his mouth. “That’s right sweetheart, let me hear you. Don’t hold back on me.”

You feel your insides starting to tense, your thighs are quivering with anticipation, and your blood is moving through your veins faster than it ever has. You let your eyes open to look at him, completely entranced with the way his fingers are disappearing inside of you. “I'm close, baby.”

He lifts his head to look at your face, his eyes scanning across your features, taking in the flushed appearance and hazy expression on your face. 

“Let go, baby,” he rasps, his fingers increasing their pace. “I wanna see, I wanna hear you cum for me.”

You can hardly deny him, your body giving in to his demands whether you like it or not. Your body tenses around his fingers, your hips rolling up into his touch as the tension snaps inside of you. Your back arches up off the bed as his name falls from your lips, echoing through the air around you as soft curses leave his lips. 

He stares down at your face, watching you come undone beneath him, and it’s the most breathtaking, perfect thing he’s ever witnessed.

He lets his fingers slow as you ride through your orgasm, gently removing them, a low hum leaving his lips as he sits back a bit, his eyes taking in your disheveled form. “God you’re fucking beautiful, baby,” he murmurs against your neck.

You are working steadily to catch your breath, looking at him as he pulls his fingers to his lips. 

He lets his eyes stay on yours as he runs his tongue over his fingers, the taste of you making his head spin and his stomach tense. He moves onto his knees as you settle back down, his eyes roaming over you, the sight of so needy beneath him makes his body ache.

He lets his hands run up your bare legs, gently massaging your thighs and hips. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice low and raspy.

“That was,” you pause, letting out a sigh, “Amazing, Jake…”

He lets out a soft laugh at your response, his fingers continuing to massage your skin as he responds. “Yeah?” he asks, a smirk slowly spreading across his lips.

“Yeah, but you already know that,” you counter, pulling him down towards you by the chain of his necklaces. He moves quickly, his body pressed flush to yours before you move to roll him to his back, taking position on top of him. 

His hands rest on your thighs, his thumbs making small circles on your skin as he looks up at you. He lets his eyes rake over your face, his hands gently squeezing your hips, trying to keep the cool demeanor as desire begins to overtake him. 

“Think you’re taking charge here, sweetheart?”

“I know so,” you quip. 

“Only because I’m letting you.” he smirks, moving a hand to rest behind his head as he watches you. 

He looks so good beneath you, the years passed only adding to the natural sexiness he always possessed. Your eyes rake over his body as your fingers move to unbutton his pants.  

He sucks in a deep breath as you get the button unfastened, his entire body practically burning now, his skin overheating. You pull his jeans down below his hips, revealing the thin boxers he’s wearing underneath, and the obvious print of his fully hardened length beneath the fabric. His muscles flex involuntarily as he tries to keep himself in check, but he finds it damn near impossible when you’re looking at him like this. 

You drag your hand over his length, pulling a hiss from his chest. You stroke him through his boxers watching his lips part and his breathing become heavier. 

He can hardly contain himself as you touch him through the fabric, a shuddering gasp leaving his lips, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him. 

“Oh god, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained and harsh. He can’t keep his eyes off you, his heart racing in his chest as you tease him, the friction both incredible and completely torturous.

You move backwards on the bed, letting your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down his legs as you move further backward. His cock springs free from the confines of the fabric, slapping against his groin with an audible thud. His eyes search yours as you throw his boxers to the floor, reaching for his length and grasping it hot and hard in your fist. 

He lets his tongue run across his dry lips as you continue teasing him, his eyes darkened with lust, his chest heaving as he tries to keep his breathing even. 

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he moans, his hips arching up as you continue your movements, craving more friction, more contact.

You settle yourself between his legs, as you continue to work him, giving him a playful smile before dropping your lips over his length. You can taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue, and the warmth of his body on your lips. 

He lets out a low moan of pure pleasure as your lips wrap around him, his heart feeling like it’s about to explode in his chest, his body practically on fire. 

“God, yeah, that’s it baby,” he grits out, his hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white. “Just like that.” He can’t help but let his hips roll up into your mouth, the feeling and the sight of you, almost too much to take.

You flatten your tongue against him as you take him further into your mouth, feeling his tip brush at the back of your throat. His hips jerk into you, his own primal need for more manifesting. When you don’t gag, it takes him by surprise, his eyes widening as he looks at you. 

“Fuck sweetheart, and I didn’t think you could get any better.”

You pull back a bit, sucking as you withdraw your mouth, cupping his balls and pulling a whine from his chest. 

“God, yes,” he whines, “Doing fucking amazing.”

You begin to bob your head up and down at a faster pace, feeling his cock start to thicken in your hand. You pull your mouth from him, letting a string of saliva drip down the side of his length. Your eyes never leave his as you lick up the underside of his shaft, savoring the taste of his skin and the feeling of his veins on your tongue. 

He practically whimpers at the feeling of your tongue on him, his chest heaving, his body practically trembling with need. He can feel himself getting closer with every movement of your mouth and hand, his eyes locked on yours as he tries to keep control of himself.

He’s on the edge, desperate for release, his body arching up into you. “Keep going, baby, don’t stop,” he moans out, his voice ragged and breathless. 

You quicken your pace, eyes locked on him as you continue to work him towards his release, the jerking movements of his cock in your mouth letting you know its arrival is imminent. You hum around him, letting the vibrations of your voice work him even closer. 

“Goddamn, Y/N,” he pants, gripping his hand into your hair. His grip is firm and his eyes are pleading, so you give in and give him the approval he is looking for. 

In seconds you feel his hand guiding your head at a much faster pace, the head of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat as he curses in pleasure. It’s only a few seconds before you feel him starting to twitch against your tongue, his hand loosening its grip in your hair. 

His breathing becomes ragged as he guides your head, his hips bucking and rolling as he gets closer to the edge. “Look at me,” he demands. 

Your eyes immediately meet his, and suddenly you feel the rush of bitter warmth as it flows across your tongue and down your throat. 

“Take it, fucking take it,” he groans, his hips still moving on their own as he spills into your mouth. 

As you swallow down the last of his release, he lets his head fall back on the pillow, his chest heaving and his heart still racing as he comes down from the high. He looks back up at you, his eyes dazed and half-lidded, his breathing labored. 

“Jesus,” he rasps, his hand falling from your hair. You move to stand at the end of the bed, tossing your hair over your shoulders and sliding your thong down your legs. He watches you intently, his eyes taking in the sight of your naked body, causing his cock to harden once again. He strokes it a few times, still feeling sensitive from his last orgasm. 

“I want you, Jake,” you whisper, kneeling back onto the bed. 

“Come here,” he replies, his voice a low, gruff whisper. He sits up, his eyes still taking in every inch of you, his body practically aching with need, his heart thrumming in his chest. He holds a hand out to you, his eyes locked on yours.

You move towards him, taking his hand as you step closer, your body coming flush with his as he pulls you into his lap. He lets his hands move to your hips, pulling you even closer until you're straddling his thighs, his breath catching in his chest as he looks at you.

“You want me to ride you, baby?” you ask, a mischievous smile on your lips. 

“Fuck yeah,” he growls, pulling your wet cunt into direct contact with his cock. 

“Or,” you pause, pushing up a little, “Would you rather have me on my hands and knees?”

The question makes his heart skip a beat, and he lets out a low groan, his hands gripping tighter on your hips.He hesitates for a moment, his eyes locked on yours, and when he speaks his voice is low and rough. 

“That's not fair,” he says, his hands moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer against him.

“Why not?” you ask, pretending not to understand his conundrum. His hands remain firm on your body as he responds, his voice a low, huskier version of his normal tone. 

“Because I'm trying to show you some restraint, and you're making it very difficult for me, sweetheart,” he says, his eyes flicking between yours as he looks at you.

“Who said I wanted you to show restraint?” you ask, wanting everything he had to offer. 

His eyes darken as you challenge him, his hand gripping tighter on your hip. “You're playing with fire, angel,” he warns, his voice strained as he tries his hardest to keep control of himself.

He can feel the way your body responds to his touch, and he can tell you want more, and god knows he wants more too. You roll your wet pussy against the head of his cock in an attempt to press him even further. 

“Last chance baby,” he warns. 

You suck a wet kiss to his chest, giving him your answer. He pushes you up, and rolls you off of him, standing from the bed as he snaps his fingers. “Hands and knees,” he barks, pointing to the center of the bed.

The demanding quality of his voice sends a flood of arousal to your core. You follow his command, getting on your hands and knees in the middle of the bed, your heart pounding in your chest as you hear him move behind you.

He walks over to his bedside table, pulling open the bottom drawer and grabbing a silver foil packet from the strip. He rips the packaging open with his teeth, spitting the corner out to the floor before rolling the latex over his throbbing cock. 

He moves closer to you, his body now completely flush against yours, his hands on your hips to keep you in place. When he speaks, his voice is low and rough, his breath hot against your ear.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathe, anticipating his first move. 

His hands tighten on your hips as you reply, his heart racing as he hears the need in your voice. He leans down, his lips close to your ear as he responds, his words a low, gruff whisper. “Good girl.”

He moves his hips behind you, positioning himself at your entrance. He takes a moment to compose himself, wanting to savor this moment. His grip on your hips is firm, but his touch is gentle as he slowly pushes into you, a low moan leaving his lips as he does. 

“God, you feel so good, baby,” he whispers, his body trembling against yours. 

The stretch is indescribable, the burning fullness as he fully sheaths himself inside you is nothing like you could have ever imagined. You can feel the throb of his cock against your walls and the way his hands grip into your hips as he adjusts to the snug sensation overwhelming his senses. 

“Jake, oh my god,” you whine, feeling his hand slide around to grip your chest. He pinches your nipple between his fingers as he drags his tongue down your spine. 

“I know baby, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to move his hips at a faster pace. 

The room is starting to grow hot, his headboard tapping the wall with every thrust into you. You can’t seem to stop the continuous flow of noises leaving your chest, only offset by the sound of his hips slapping against your ass. 

“Jake, baby,” you cry out, his hips slamming into your at a bruising pace. 

“I warned you sugar,” he pants, “I know you can take it.”

He’s right, the pleasure is overriding the pain, leading you towards what you know will likely be the best orgasm of your life. You begin to clench around him as curses fall from his lips, his hands gripping into your shoulders, pulling you back to meet each thrust. 

You can feel his hair as it drags across your back, his lips pressing into the arch of your back. “So fucking good for me, sweetheart.”

You know you aren’t going to last much longer, the need for release inching its way closer and closer to the forefront of your mind. 

“Baby,” you whine, looking over your shoulder at him. He’s the picture of perfection, hairline dotted with sweat as his chest glows. 

“There’s those pretty eyes,” he smirks, “Have half a mind to turn you over, just so I can look at them when I cum.” he ponders, his hips slowing slightly, “You know what, I think I will.”

He pulls out of you quickly, guiding you down to your back before slipping right back into you with a groan. 

“Goddamn, perfect pussy,” he murmurs, “Look at me, beautiful.”

You let your eyes meet his, his hair framing his face now as his pendants drag over your skin. Your hand moves to cup at his neck, your thumb splayed wide over his throat. 

“Mmmm, yeah,” he growls, “This was the right choice.”

You wrap your legs around his back, his free hand coming down to grip at your ass. His thrusts are starting to become more erratic, his pace slightly off from the consistent speed he was working at earlier. Again you feel the warmth in your stomach starting to creep up your chest and you know that it will be only seconds until your undoing. 

His breaths are coming in short, ragged gasps, his heart racing in his chest. He can hear the sound of your bodies colliding over and over again and it only fuels his fire. As he feels you start to get closer, he pushes himself even further, wanting to give you everything he has. 

His hand snakes up your body, cupping at your face and letting his thumb trail over your kiss swollen lips. You part them, allowing him to press his fingers to your tongue. You close your lips around them, letting your tongue work at the digits, and suck them without breaking eye contact. 

You feel his cock jump inside of you, and you know that you’re both there, but prolonging the moment as long as you can. He presses his fingers to the back of your throat, your eyes watering instantly as you gag around them. 

“There it is,” he grins, “Just had to hear it.” 

He pulls his wet fingers from your mouth and immediately presses them to your clit, circling around the throbbing nub to get you to the finish line with him. 

“Cum for me, baby,” he demands, “Cum with me.”

“I want you, Jake,” you beg, “All of you.”

He lets out a low moan as you speak, the tone of your voice setting his body on fire. He knows what you're saying, what you're asking of him, and who is he to deny you?

“All of you, Jake… Take it off…” you whine. 

He lets out a deep growl as you beg, his body trembling with need. He wants to give you what you want, but he also wants to show restraint, his self control hanging by a thread. 

“You sure, baby?” he asks. 

“Yes, please,” you beg, “Want it so bad. Want to feel you.”

He can't hold back any longer, your words pushing him over the edge. “God damn it,” he growls, his body trembling. He pulls out of you, ripping the condom off and tossing it to the floor, pushing back inside of you with a sinful groan. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” he pauses, “This what you wanted, baby? You want my fucking seed? Need to feel me all nice and warm inside you?”

“Yes Jake, Oh god– you’re so– give it to me baby,” you cry out, finally feeling the full warmth of his cock inside of you, stretching and filling you so perfectly. 

“I’m there sweetheart, gonna fuckin cum,” he growls, his eyes locked on yours as his hips slam into you. “Soak me beautiful, squeeze my cock while I cum in this pussy.”

His words send you over the edge, your world exploding around you as the sound of his grunts fill the air you seem to be floating in. He’s hot as he spills inside of you, sweat dripping down his chest in salty rivulets. 

His lips crash to yours as he works you through it, his tongue dancing with yours as you both start to come down from your orgasms.  He breaks the kiss after a moment and rests his forehead against yours, his breathing coming out ragged, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Goddamn, baby, I think that almost killed me,” he laughs, “Was hot as fuck.”

You laugh, as you kiss him again, his smile making your heart flutter in your chest. “You're hot as fuck, so it wasn't hard.”

He laughs at your reply, the sound deep and velvety. “Oh, flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart,” he replies, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face. 

He's still trying to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the exertion, but he still has enough energy to pull you closer against him, his hands gently rubbing your back as he speaks. “But you’re only adding to my ego.”

“I knew you were still in there somewhere,” you tease. 

He pulls out of you, the evidence of his release slipping between your thighs. “You know, I did not expect my night to go like this.” he smirks, standing from the bed and making his way to the bathroom. 

“Glad it did,” you smile, watching his perfect round ass make its way to the sink. He returns a minute later with a wet towel, gently cleaning you up as he showers you with praise. 

“I’d like you to stay here, if you’d like.” he asks, nervously, sliding back into the bed next to you. 

“I have a flight in the morning,” you counter, biting at your bottom lip. 

He pulls you into his side, pushing the hair away from your face as he sighs, “I see,” he pauses, swallowing nervously, “Just stay, and you can leave at whatever time you need to, I would just really like to spend the rest of the night with you here.”

You can't help but smile at the sound of his words, your heart fluttering in your chest. You nod, snuggling closer into his side, your head resting against his chest. “I think I can manage that,” you reply, your voice soft and gentle.

You can feel his heart beating beneath your ear, the steady rhythm comforting you. You close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of his body close to yours. He reaches over and turns off his lamp, leaving the room in darkness. 

“Thank you, for the rose…” you whisper into the darkness. 

His hand moves to stroke your hair once again, his eyes roaming over your face in the darkness. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he replies, his voice soft and sincere. “Wish it would have happened twenty five years ago,” he says, his words a light tease.

“I’ll keep it forever.”

“You better,” he teases, a hint of a chuckle in his voice, “I expect to see it on Instagram by morning, and don’t forget to tag me.”

You slap at his chest playfully, the joking quality of his voice very present. “Be careful or I just might.”

He laughs, his hand moving to the spot you slapped his chest. “Oh no, please don’t,” he teases in mock horror. He pulls you closer to him, and sighs in contentment, his heart feeling light and happy for the first time in a long time. 

—

Your phone buzzing on the nightstand wakes you, your alarm set for 5:00AM. The room is still pitch black, the black velvet curtains shrouding the windows and keeping the light from entering. The air is cool, a little too cold for your liking but the heaviness of the sheets make it bearable. You can feel Jake’s body heat beneath the sheets, radiating and keeping you warm for most of the night. His hands never left your body, keeping you close to him even in his sleep. You slept peacefully, though as you start to move around you notice the soreness of your muscles. You know you have to get up, you have to find your clothes and get back to your hotel before your flight. 

You turn to look at Jake, still sleeping next to you. His lips are parted, soft puffs of air drifting between them as his eyelids move. His hair is pulled back away from his face, revealing his ear and the column of his neck. His hand rests gently on your pillow, his fingers twitching in his sleep and bringing a smile to your lips. 

You roll over towards the nightstand, noticing that the white rose he presented you with last night was laying across the length of the small table, and you know he must have placed it there at some point during the night. The petals have opened more now, and your heart flutters as you remember him giving it to you. You grab your phone and open the camera, snapping a photo of the rose on the nightstand just to remember the moment.

You take in the sight of him one last time before silently slipping out of the bed, feeling very exposed as you look around the dark room in search of your clothes. You redress yourself as quietly as possible, remembering that you shed your shirt in his office. You grab your rose, and take one last look at his perfect sleeping form before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and slipping out of the large wooden door and into the hallway. 

You make your way to his music room, seeing your shirt still laying on the floor and the record still spinning idly as the speakers crackle. You grab your shirt and pull it over your head, deciding to stop the turntable and place the record back into his collection. You take another look around the room, overcome with emotion as you look at the young faces on the posters and in the photos hanging on the walls. 

Twenty minutes later you’re notified that your Uber is outside, and a pang of sadness washes over you. You know you have to leave but part of you wants to stay. To get back in bed with Jake in hopes of a round two, to see his morning face and hear the raspiness of his voice, but you can’t. You decide to leave with the memories and your rose, watching his house pass by the windows as the car pulls out of his driveway. 

Your mind is swirling with thoughts of last night, the way he felt, the way he tasted. You scroll through the photos of the two of you at the bar, feeling a weight settle on your shoulders as you realize you will likely never see him again. In an effort to lift your spirits you pull up your group chat with your friends, forgetting that you sent them the photo of the two of you last night. You never thought to check their replies, feeling so caught up in your time with Jake that it never crossed your mind. 

You’re instantly reduced to laughter as you read their desperate replies, catapulting you back twenty years when you all wished to run into him at a bar by chance. You sent a few laughing emojis and gave them all a quick run down of the night, finishing off your message with a picture of the white rose on the nightstand. 

Their reactions were exactly as you expected, complete panic and begging for every single detail. 

—

As you make your way through airport security you deposit your things into the large plastic bins, walking through the metal detector and out again, grabbing your bag and shoes from the end of the conveyor belt. 

It’s a short walk to your gate, your flight home seeming daunting after the night you’d had. It had been a few hours now and still you couldn’t shake the thoughts of him from your mind. You knew you should be happy for that one perfect night with him, but you felt something with him. Something you hadn’t felt in years. Something different.  

You take a seat at your boarding gate, letting out a sigh as you settle into the stiff airport chair. You can still smell the remnant of his cologne on your body, and you can almost feel his lips on your neck. A swirling feeling takes up residence in your stomach and your skin feels warm. You decide to take your mind off of him, reaching into the front pocket of your purse for your phone, but feeling something else against your fingers instead.

As you pull the items out of your bag, you feel as if your heart might stop in your chest. A small folded piece of paper emerges from the pocket with a note written inside. A relic falls into your hand as you open it, small and black and aged from wear over the years. A guitar pick, adorned with the ‘Age of Machine’ symbol sits perfectly in your hand. You feel your eyes well with tears at the special gift, letting them flick over to the note written in his messy handwriting. 

Every Jake girl needs a pick. I hope you enjoy this one from my personal collection. Might even be the last one in existence. Thank you for everything tonight, your kindness to me will never be forgotten. You’ve reignited my spark in more ways than one.

P.S. - Check your phone

Love, Jake

With your newly acquired pick in your hand you reach into your purse, pulling your phone out as quickly as possible. On the screen you see more texts from your friends, but more importantly you see a text from Jake, who not only sent those photos to himself, but added his contact information into your phone. Your thumb shakes as you open his text, nervous to see what he has sent.

JK

9:47AM: I’m guessing you found my note and it led you here. I hope you like the pick and that you will hold on to it for me. I meant what I said in that note and here’s your proof. Thought of this last night and recorded it this morning just after you left. It’s all thanks to you. Give it a listen and call me when you land. Hope to hear from you soon. 

An attachment was sent along with his message, and as it opens you realize it's an audio file, but not just any audio file. It’s him, playing music the way he was always meant to. 

JakeSoloDemo.mp3

As you listen to the track you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. You’d brought him out of his shell, and all it took was a few encouraging words and letting him know that people still cared. You read over his message again and again, debating whether or not to text him back now, or wait to call him when you landed like he asked, but either way he wanted to hear from you, and the promise of the conversation to come was enough to keep a permanent smile on your lips for the rest of time.

Sure, you may have reignited his spark, but maybe, just maybe, he reignited yours, too. 

Taglist: @gretavanmoon@britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @gvfpal @watchingover-hypegirl @starshine-wagner @indigobrea @slut4lando @justdamnpeachy @sacredtheslay @jakekiszkashangnail08 @dayumclarizzel @objectsinspvce @gracev0609 @kisskiss-atticus @i-love-gvf @whimsiliz @dilflover-4ever

[anthemofgvf]

Teacher’s Pet: Sam Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

description: when college becomes more interesting from your history with your music professor, you decide to take him up on a private piano lesson to rekindle what once was.

word count: 6.6k+

trope: student reader x professor sam (college au!)

taglist for future fics

warnings after cut…

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warnings: large amount of plot, angst, smut (18+ minors dni!), voyeurism, soft dom! sam, fluff, teacher x adult reader, inappropriate relations, swearing, begging, fingering, oral (fem! and male receiving), handjob, overstimulation, praise kink, unprotected sex, minimal aftercare

a/n: this may not be everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s okay! would also like to reiterate that reader IS a legal adult. i figured that would be clear considering this is a college au but i just wanted to state it once before the story itself does. all actions are consensual, and i do not condone un-consensual acts. with that being said, enjoy;)

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Starting college at Michigan State University at the age of twenty-one, you walked onto campus with a sense of anticipation and determination that set yourself apart from your younger peers. Your journey to this point had been conventional, marked by years of playing piano at home purely for joy, and finding an intense passion for music itself. Now, as a music theory major, you were ready to immerse yourself in the academic study of music, eager to delve into the intricacies of composition, harmony, and the structures that underpin the art form you love. Your path to college might have been delayed, but your passion for music had only grown stronger with time, making your arrival at the university both a new beginning and a cumulation of years of dedication.

But you were gifted a surprise on your first day in your "Music Theory 101" class when you sat near the front - only a few rows back on the far left, and your professor walked in. The cool fall air of Michigan allowed for him to wear a navy blue long-sleeve and a multicolored-purple scarf, with grey plaid dress pants. He clearly was taller than most, but the boots that he paired with his outfit granted him a few extra inches.

You started to analyze the features of his face, seeing something so familiar in him that you couldn't quite pinpoint. His long, brunette hair that held a light wave with a well-kept mustache and goatee. Something about his eyes were the most recognizable to you with the way they scanned the room slowly, then focusing in on papers on his podium. And as soon as he began to speak and introduce himself to you and your peers, the memories came flooding back into your brain, and you had to hold yourself back from gasping. But you couldn't contain your eyes from widening.

"Hello everyone," he began, "welcome to 'Music Theory 101.'" He said with a smile. "I'm Professor Kiszka, and I'll be teaching this course. I've been teaching music theory for about three years now."

You knew who he was. He was Mr. Kiszka, or Sam, as back then you were able to call him that because he wasn't the hugest fan of being called 'Mr. Kiszka'. He was your student teacher your senior year of high school in your band class. He would help your teacher as if he were a teacher's aide, yet also helped teach the class and was a mentee to your teacher. You couldn't even believe your chances of having him as an actual teacher, let alone even seeing his face again. And God, how he has changed from the guy you once knew. But he'd always be 'Sam' to you, whether you'd call him by his first name or not. You preferred not to take your chances anyways.

You and he had created a small friendship, or better described as a mutualistic relationship, but it went nowhere beyond because being friends would cross the boundaries that the school board had put into place. But it was more than likely for the better, because you had a massive crush on him that accumulated over time with the semester. You were keen to his wit, his attention to detail - his talent in music. Not to mention he had a great sense of humor and was outgoing that paired perfectly with his great looks. You remembered being saddened that you were not going to see him again after your last class of the semester, and while although he gave you a hug and a smile, he had said to you,

"You'll see me again, y/n, I'm sure of it," with a wink.

And somehow, he had predicted the future.

After he gave the class a short introduction, which you surely had missed from reminiscing about the past, he had begun to read down the list of students for attendance. Your heart began to bang against your ribcage with anticipation, with wonderance of if he would even remember you. After all, you were just another student he saw in the school day.

"Y/n L/n?" He had called out, searching for you amongst the crowd.

You shot your eyes up, looking at him as you lightly raised your hand and said, "Here."

He smiled at you, the same smile he always wore. His eyes lightly squinted, and his face lit up with a knowing expression.

"You went to Frankenmuth High School, right?" He pointed his pen out to you with his teeth still on display.

"Yeah, yeah I did." You nodded.

You felt everyone's eyes on you - all 40 something students that filled the lecture hall. He remembered you, and you had forgotten how nervous you would get when his eyes lingered upon you for too long. Surely your face was flushed pink for the whole class to examine, but you were praying the lights were dim enough to hide your complexion.

"It's nice to see you again, y/n." He nodded towards you, closing his mouth to soften his smile and focus his attention back onto the list and calling out other names.

The entire class all you could do was watch his facial expressions, the way he walked and used his hands in conversation and lecture. The way his hair flew with his head whenever he changed directions, the way his voice articulated words. And, surely watching him give the class a demonstration on the piano was going to be the death of you. Time had made him more attractive, and his knowledge of you was somehow a worser fate than going unknown.

He put his whole body into his demonstration, leaning into the keys and throwing his head back every so often. His shoulders would raise in a rigid motion, then relaxing back down whilst his fingers danced along the white keys. You began to press your thighs tightly together and place your fist over your mouth as you watched him intently. You were unsure of how you were going to survive this class for a semester.

But after that first day, he had called you over to his podium. Although the conversation was light, asking you how you've been, wondering what you were going to college for exactly, you couldn't help but feel unprepared to talk to him. He always had a way with words, and anything that came out of his mouth was pure poetry. You just felt like you were blabbing nonsense to him. But he cared what you had to say. He laughed at your jokes, nodded along to show you he was listening. He had not changed one bit after all these years, other than time aging him only enough to present himself as more of a mature adult, but his striking personality stayed intact.

As the semester went on, and you stopping by Sam's desk every so often after class, assignments were assigned. One big project that was presented was to perform a cover on the piano that showcased your level of talent on the keys - 30 measures to be exact. A different assignment was given to those who were incapable of playing the piano, which was to compose a piece instead on an instrument of their choosing, but you took the route of playing on the instrument you enjoyed the most.

With this assignment, he had allowed students to make appointments with him during his office hours for free lessons and guidance on their piece. And as soon as he had announced this, you had booked an appointment.

And that's where you were headed right now: A one-on-one meeting with Professor Kiszka. To say you were nervous was an understatement. His attention was all yours, and there was no avoiding his gaze by sinking into your chair. The only thing that you had repeated in your head was that he was no stranger, and you knew how to hold a conversation with him. Act normal, you said to yourself, act normal.

You pushed open one of the large doors of the classroom that groaned and creaked as it allowed your entrance. Sam had his back to you from across the lecture hall, hunched over as he played a song that was unrecognizable to you on the piano. Whatever it was, it sounded beautiful.

The doors slammed shut behind you as you walked in, which caught Sam's attention. He whipped his head over his shoulder as his fingers relaxed from the keys, and he lifted his wrist up to examine his watch.

"Guess it is that time, huh?" He said out loud, although he was mainly speaking to himself. "Come on in, y/n."

"Forgot I was coming in, Professor Kiszka?" You said with a smirk.

"I'm always forgetting the time as it passes," he chuckled lightly, "surely you'll forgive me."

You walked over to him as he rose from the bench with a light smile, extending his arm towards the piano to motion for you to sit. He wore an ironed white button down, and worn-out jeans that have seen better days. Casual attire: a bit astray from what he normally wears.

You stopped in front of him. "I guess just this once I will." You said to him, then taking your seat on the bench and keeping your posture straightened.

"Alright, y/n," he shook his head with a smile, "what's your song of choice then? Can't pick anything you've played for me before."

You cocked your head to the side as you gave him a pondering look. "There's no way you remember anything I played three years ago."

He pressed his lips together and thought for a moment, then looking down to you with a smile.

"Maybe I do, or maybe I don't. Just seems like you're trying to stall on playing your piece for me." He said to you. "There's nothing to be nervous about, y/n."

You shook your head with a light sigh. "I'll have to test your memory another time then."

He nodded at you. "So, what piece of music did you choose?"

"I chose 'Rhapsody in Blue,' sir." You spoke to him. "I remember you performing it for the class after finals were over, and I've been in love with the piece ever since."

He seemed almost shocked that he had made such an impact on you, one that was still intact after all these years. He gave you an earnest, genuine smile as he placed his hand on his heart.

"It means a lot to me that I played an influential role in your musical journey. Did you learn it after I performed the piece?" He asked.

You nodded with a giggle. "Embarrassingly yes, yes I did." You refrained from eye contact as you felt your face becoming hot.

He raised a brow. "So, this is a piece you're familiar with?" You looked back to him with a singular nod. "Then what is your reasoning for spending time with me during my office hours, y/n? I never knew of you to not be confident in yourself."

You stuck your tongue into your cheek. "Just wanted to make sure that I was playing the piece up to par, and I so happen to enjoy our conversations. Figured we'd be able to catch up a bit during this meeting."

"Is that so, y/n?" He smirked at you. His tongue ran across his bottom lip as he looked down at you. It was almost as if there were words that lingered upon his tongue, yet he was unable to muster the courage to let them roll off smoothly. He had opened his mouth for a moment, then shut it with a grin. "Well, then how about we see how well you can perform this piece, huh? If there's enough time after, I don't see anything wrong with catching up a bit more." His grin was near seductive, although he was talking about a topic pure as white. Something about the way his eyes captivated yours that had your body telling you to either look away flustered, or to hold onto his eyes to match his intimidating gaze.

But rather than look at him any longer, you chose to take in a deep breath in preparation to perform for him. You straightened yourself up once more and saw him leave your sight from the corner of your eye.

"Just a bit too tense, y/n." He said softly to you, placing his hands onto your shoulders gently. "Relax for me."

As if that sentence alone didn't have you feeling even more tense, you closed your eyes and found it within yourself to relax, and to forget that it was Sam's doing for making your nerves skyrocket.

You began the piece, fluttering your eyes open and playing it as you learned it. Some of your mannerisms matched the way Sam played the piece - at least back then, just because you admired how beautiful he looked whilst performing. You were certain that if he hadn't become a teacher, he'd be on a stage performing in front of thousands.

You were lost in the music, lost in your motions and the way your fingers traveled alongst the keys in perfect harmony. So lost that you hadn't realized Sam's hands had left your shoulders, moving to stand near the front of the piano, watching you perform. All you could do was focus on playing as perfectly as you could for him, because if you were to look up and see his admiring stare, you would have forgotten the rest of the piece.

And so, you finished, watching your fingers dance along the last few keys and resting your hands onto your thighs, keeping your eyes down only for a moment before cautiously allowing yourself to look up and see his chin resting into his palm, wearing a large grin that he never seemed to wipe from his face.

"That was," he began to stride slowly towards you, "near perfection."

You followed his movements with your eyes. "Near?"

He sat next to you on the bench, holding onto your eyes. "You lost yourself a bit with the tempo, is all. I'm not shameful to a bit of artistic expression, but that would be for another project. But it's nothing that can't be fixed quickly."

"So, then it's a good thing that I made this appointment, hm? Without your expertise I wouldn't have known to slow down a bit." You said to him.

He huffed a laugh with an amused expression. "What's your game here? Sarcasm or flattery?"

You took a glance at his parted lips, locking eyes with him again. "Your guidance, Professor Kiszka."

He shook his head at you with a knowing look yet dismissing your counter remark and sliding closer to you.

"Well, for one, you should raise your arms a bit higher above the keys." He slid his hands under your forearms and raised them up slightly, being ever-so gentle with his touch. With how close he peered over your shoulder, you were certain if you were to turn to him, your nose would brush against his.

However, you wouldn't have been bothered by it if it were to occur. The opportunity presented itself when he had willingly brought himself even closer to you. Whether you would dare to do it was not on your mind right now, as you were tuning into the feeling of his coarse hands holding your forearms and making them weightless.

You could feel his exhaled breath just barely hit the side of your neck, and your body almost reacted with a shudder. Rather, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, and suddenly you had become more aware of how many breaths you were taking in.

"And to help keep tempo," Sam slowly slid his hands off your arms, placing his hand lightly onto your thigh, "I'll tap on beat." He said as he began tapping onto your jeans lightly.

You dared to turn towards him and flick your eyes at his parted lips, locking onto his stare and feeling the inability to look away. You were certain the face you were displaying was one of desperation, of want.

But to him, it didn't appear that way. "Is this...okay?" He had said with a hint of worry. Maybe he didn't want to read into your facial expressions too much.

"Yes, yes it's okay." You gave him a reassured smile, along with a small nod, and tore yourself away from his gaze.

You began to play once more, trying to keep your mind on your fingers hitting the keys at the right pace rather than the fact that Sam's hand was on your thigh. The act was supposed to be innocent, a teacher merely helping his student perfect their piece, but to you, it was hard to feel anything pure towards your professor.

With the way his chin nearly rested onto your shoulder, to his steady breaths that matched yours as you played, to the low humming you could hear in your ear as your fingers danced along the piano. How did he expect you to focus when he was closer to you than ever before? When all you were thinking about was how easily it would be to kiss him, to give into him.

"What's on your mind, y/n?" He whispered to you.

You had continued playing, trying to keep up with the tempo he had set on your thigh.

"What do you mean?" You said without missing a beat.

"I can tell you're not focused. You're playing the piece properly, but your mind is somewhere else." He removed his hand from your thigh, which caused you to stop playing.

You turned to him. "I'm just a bit distracted, that's all. I'm sorry, Professor." You pressed your lips together, flicking your eyes down to avoid his gaze. A low sigh escaped his mouth as he watched gravity tilt your head down.

But then you felt his finger hook under your chin, lifting it up to meet his eyes. Every detail of his face was on display, and you couldn't focus your eyes on a single piece of his complexion - it was all something you wanted to remember so intricately.

"Am I distracting you?" He took a glance at your lips only for a discreet moment, then focusing in on your eyes and searched within them for an answer that you had yet to put out into the air.

"Maybe," you began, "what if I said that you were?"

Your bold statement had nearly taken him aback, with his hand removing itself from under your chin, and a light chuckle with the shake of his head as he composed himself. His hand ran to the back of his neck, then finding its resting place on the top of his thigh.

He leaned back slightly, the playful glint in his eyes dimming to something more contemplative. "Then I'd have to ask why," he murmured, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. "Why do you find me distracting?" The air between you seemed to thicken with unspoken words and unsaid possibilities, leaving you teetering on the edge of where his mind was at.

You took a hard swallow, tugging at the inside of your bottom lip and praying that you weren't about to make an embarrassing mistake.

Your heart raced as you decided to take the plunge. "Because" you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "I've never been able to keep myself composed long enough around you. And, now that we're alone, it's become increasingly hard to even think straight."

His eyes widened slightly, the seriousness of your confession hanging between you two like a fragile thread.

He moved closer, his warm breath just barely grazing the tip of your nose. "Maybe that's not such a bad thing," he said softly, his lips hovering just inches from yours, leaving you breathless and wondering if he was about to close the distance between you. "But you know what the rules are, right, y/n?"

"Do you plan on getting caught?" Your question hung in the air, heavy with implication. You felt a shiver run down your spine as the reality of the situation hit you. How the proximity had almost fizzled out in between you, the way Sam held your eyes in the most captivating way, taking only a millisecond to peak at your lips before returning to your gaze.

"Didn't know of you to be such a risk taker, y/n." He said to you with a steady voice.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips, trying to mask the nervous flutter in your chest. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Sam," you replied, your voice just as steady, matching his intensity.

His gaze flickered with curiosity and something deeper, something that made your pulse quicken more than it already was. "Sam?" He smirked. "As much as I like you calling me 'Professor,' I've missed hearing you say my name."

"I'll say it as many times as you want me to," you said softly, flicking your eyes to his lips before returning back to his gaze.

"Then start now," he murmured, his tone a blend of challenge and invitation. He inched closer, his breath mingling with yours, the space between you almost nonexistent now.

"Sam," you barely voiced.

"Again." He said as his lips were just barely brushing against yours. His hand gently traced the line of your jaw.

"Sam." You repeated for him.

He closed the remaining distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was a risk, practically whimpering into his mouth the second you got a taste whatever flavored ChapStick he wore.

His hand cupped your cheek, while his other hand rested on your thigh. You willingly fell into the touch, placing one of your hands onto his white button down, and the other beginning to tangle itself in his hair. You were merely breathless with the deepening of the kiss quickly becoming apparent, and now you were just desperate to run your hands under his shirt - to feel his warm skin under your touch.

Without unlocking your lips from his, you began to unbutton his shirt, and while he noticed, he allowed you to continue, pulling the shirt off of his shoulders and throwing it wherever it may land onto the ground.

His fingers crept under the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up to let every inch of your body feel that singular motion, and as soon as the tips of his fingers hit your bra, you were removing your mouth from his and finishing the job.

"You're eager." He teased at you, tugging at your bottom lip as he encapsulated your lips onto his again.

Instead of giving him a pitiful response into his mouth, you undid your bra with little struggle and threw it off of you whilst scooting yourself closer to your professor. His cold hands almost stung against your bare sides, yet soothed your heated skin as he ran them up slowly, finding your breasts and toying with them tenderly. A soft whine escaped out of your mouth, and in return, his mouth made its journey of running from your jawline, then to your neck, and to your collarbone.

Before you had even realized it, your hand was sliding down his chest, finding his bulge and cupping it. His groan vibrated against your neck, sucking lightly and digging his teeth into your neck as you threw your head back.

You had found yourself already breathless, squeezing your thighs together as your mind wondered to the inevitable. You lightly squeezed on Sam's bulge, hoping that he would mutter another sound for you to listen to.

But he removed himself from you with a heaving chest, unbuckling his belt as he stood up in front of you. While his eyes were first locked in at undoing the material holding up his pants, he then looked to you, pulling and shimmying off his jeans that were caught at his ankles. His briefs followed suit with his motion, and his cock sprung out in front of you.

Without hesitation, you had wrapped your hand around his length, keeping his eyes locked on yours as you pursed your lips and allowed spit to dribble from your mouth onto his cock. His mouth parted slightly, watching as your hand ran up and down him at an agonizingly slow pace. You gave him a small smile, one that had him caressing the side of your face and running his hand to the back of your head.

As he tousled with your hair, you pressed your lips softly onto his tip, then sliding him into your mouth. You watched as he threw his head back, groaning in a deep sigh and lightly tugging at the hair on the back of your head. You kept your hand pumping slowly at his base, while your head bobbed up and down his length.

The sensation of your soft, skilled mouth moving with rhythmic precision drew a deep moan from his lips. Your tongue danced expertly, exploring every inch, while your eyes remained fixed on his as he let his head fall back down towards you, drinking in every reaction. He was entranced with your motions and the way you effortlessly brought him such bliss.

His breathing had become unsteady, tugging at his bottom lip as he tugged your hair back which in return removed your mouth from him. You looked up to him eagerly, and in silence, he slowly fell to his knees at your mercy.

He looked beautiful bowed before you, unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans in a fluid motion, then dipping his thumbs under the denim, and wrapping his hands onto your sides that were hugged by the material. He slid them down slowly, and while doing so, you had lifted yourself up just enough to aid him in fully removing your jeans and panties. He had tossed them to the side, and once he looked back to you, your legs were pressed together.

You had found yourself shy with the vulnerability shared with him. Fully exposed to Sam, permanently imprinting this image of yourself in his brain that he would not dare to allow slip from his mind. His hands came to your knees as he noticed the sudden pink hue in your face.

"Open your legs for me, pretty girl." He said in a hoarse voice whilst he massaged your kneecaps. His demand was calm, and not one that meant to rush you. And you could feel the soothing, comforting energy that he was emulating in this moment that had you realizing he found you breathtaking - every single part of you.

So, you gave in willingly, looking at him with lustful eyes as you spread your legs apart slowly. His eyes were locked in onto your heat. Your bare form was being traced by his eyes, marveling at the curvatures of your body that seemed almost ethereal to him. He could not bring himself to speak a word, but rather sigh in reverence as his head inched closer and closer in between your thighs. It was if he was at your mercy, willing to give up anything and everything just to please you.

His lips pressed softly against the inners of your left thigh, and you had found yourself gasping lightly with a choked breath at the tender impact. Your hand relaxed at the back of his head as you massaged it, just as he did for you before, and a small grin curled onto his lips as he pressed more, soft kisses against your thighs, even sucking softly onto the skin. You were on the verge of begging for his mouth on you but resisted the urgency to see how Sam wanted to navigate himself around your body.

He raised his middle and ring finger to you, looking up at you submissively before uttering a soft, "open," to you. You quickly obeyed, parting your lips and letting him insert his fingers into your mouth, and resting them onto your tongue. You sucked slowly onto his fingers, swirling your tongue around his digits and allowing him to withdrawal them from your mouth.

And he kept his eyes locked on yours, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly inserted his two fingers inside of you. You gasped lightly, jolting forward with your back arched and your hands smashed onto the keys of the piano behind you as Sam curled his fingers. He broke from your eyes to see your hands clenched onto the keys and allowed a small smirk to curl onto his lips. He let that be his only reaction and continued to move his fingers.

You threw your head back as his other hand snaked up your body and lightly massaged your left breast. Your eyes were barely shut, mouth agape and allowing any sound bubbling in your throat out quietly. You had tugged onto the back of his head harshly as soon as you felt his tongue onto your clit, with your thighs squeezing tightly around his head and muffling your moans. As much as he wanted to push your legs apart to listen to every melodic sound that came from your mouth, he wasn't going take away from your bliss.

His tongue circled around your clit at a steady pace, with his fingers quickening to draw your moans out even more. You were tugging at your bottom lip as you rolled your hips into Sam's motions. You couldn't help but admire the view below you: your professor's eyes shut softly, seeming perfectly content in between your legs as he licked and sucked at your clit. He was already in tune with your body, knowing what made you feel good, and exactly what to do to send you over the edge.

You felt the knowing pressure in the pit of your stomach; a knot desperate to be unraveled by your orgasm. Your moans became strained - whiney.

"Sam, fuck, just like that." You slurred. Your hand had yet again found itself bracing against the keys of the piano, pressing a multitude of keys that didn't make the most beautiful melody, but the irony of that was it didn't matter what it sounded like. It mattered how it felt, which it perfectly conveyed.

You were arching your back away from the piano as your thighs trembled around Sam's head, calling out his name once more as your head fell forward and your breathing quickened. You alerted him of your orgasm, and all he did was continue his motions, calming them and seizing their existence after dragging out your high.

"You okay?" He looked up to you, removing his fingers slowly from your entrance and encapsulating them into his mouth to lick them clean.

You shuddered, and quickly swallowed and nodded at him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." You laughed lightly.

He rose from his knees, standing before you still fully erect. You had forgotten how perfectly carved his abdomen was, how desirable him in his vulnerably, bare entirety was.

His fingers pressed from below your chin, lifting your eyes up to his own and holding a soft smile yet again.

"Are you okay to keep going?"

You smiled at him and his concern that just barely washed over his face.

"Yes, Sam." You nodded, reaching out for his face and him almost immediately complying.

He smashed his lips onto yours as you pulled yourself up from the bench. Your bodies melted into each other in a feverish rush, hands frantically exploring once more to remember the feeling of each other's skin. His hand had found the small of your back, guiding you to rotate to where you were now standing where he originally was.

His mouth kept on yours, slowly sitting down onto the bench and losing your lips with the action. You stood before him, watching his eyes fall to your thighs, where his hands began running slowly up and stopping at your waist.

He met your eyes again with his tongue darting out in between his lips. His touch was both tentative and possessive, as if memorizing every curve and contour. You could feel the heat radiating from his palms and igniting that fire once more.

He pulled you closer, his grip firm yet gentle, urging you to straddle his lap. As you settled into him, he had a hand on the base of his cock, dragging it alongst your sensitive folds that had you whimpering from the slight overstimulation. He looked to you once more to look for any sign of discomfort, but you placed your hands onto his shoulders, and lined yourself up with him.

You had sunk down onto him slowly and could not help breathing a relieved moan. He, on the other hand, released a guttural groan as you fully rested with him completely inside of you. His hands gripped onto your hips, breathing already unsteady, and beginning to guide you at a slow pace.

"Shit, y/n," he breathed, "you feel so perfect." He watched you grind your hips into him and continued. "You are so perfect."

You ran a hand from his shoulder and to his neck, finding his cheek and giving him a lustful smile. You were warm around his bare cock, tight and sucking him in perfectly. Your mind was dizzy with the thought of this all being a reality unfolding at this very moment; dizzy with the way he was making you feel.

You began to bounce at a steady pace, feeling his hips buck into you lightly to help alleviate some of the work on your end. He could tell you were tired. You were lazily chasing your next orgasm, although desperate for yours again and to help him find his, but your energy almost begged to deny it.

His left hand found a home onto the piano keys for leverage, lightly wincing at the sudden noise that filled the nearly silent room. You looked at him and smiled lightly, holding back your laughter at the noise.

"Doesn't sound too good." You teased.

He shook his head at you, furrowing his brows as he battled full euphoria taking over his being and disallowing a response from him. His breath came in short, ragged bursts as he tried to focus, the dissonant chord fading into the background of his awareness.

With a slow, deliberate movement, his thumb pressed into your hipbone, anchoring himself in the reality of your presence. The look in his eyes was a mix of passion and frustration, struggling to form words but failing as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed him.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent promise that you understood. His fingers flexed on the piano keys, creating a soft, accidental melody that echoed the unspoken rhythm of your connection. Even when he's not trying, he can make something beautiful out of a small mistake.

Yours and his's movements became quicker, both of you voicing your satisfaction with breathy moans, mixing swears and each other's names into the lustful air. Your hand ran to the back of his head, tousling with the damp hair and resting your forehead onto his. You both were a sweaty mess, which had you and him sticking to one another. It would be a battle to unravel yourself from him after this, but you warranted that.

He had a harsher grip onto your hip. His fingers dug into the plush skin while his thrusts became unsteady. He removed his hand from the piano and let you carry the pace on as his thumb circled onto your clit. You called out to him in a hushed moan, feeling your second orgasm creeping up quickly. Even though you warned him, he did not care. He wanted that.

"Cum for me again, y/n." He quickened his finger, pressing down onto your lower stomach. "Cum. For. Me." He repeated with gritted teeth.

Your eyebrows pulled together, locking your eyes with his as you reached your high almost immediately and pulled your head back from him with a hand pressed against his chest. You trembled against him and rode yourself through your high, with a high-pitched gasp shooting out from your mouth while you squeezed around him. And although your head was still fuzzy, you kept going for him.

He muttered your name in a warning, lifting you up from his lap just enough for him to pull out from you. You had sat yourself onto the middle portion of his thighs, far enough for him to finish himself off by painting his stomach and hand with his cum. You couldn't tear your eyes from him as he heaved and looked at the mess he had made, lightly chuckling to himself. You found his laughter and matched it, tucking your bottom lip behind your front teeth and smiling.

He reached for your lips once more, pressing a gentle, meaningful kiss onto your mouth as he cupped your cheek with his dry hand. And once your lips parted from his, you found the pattern of his breathing and controlled your own to emulate his.

He lifted his wrist to look at the time, and you in turn gave him a puzzled look whilst throwing your arms around his neck.

"Have another appointment today?" You said to him with slight disappointment. You had almost forgotten where you two were.

"I unfortunately do." He replied. "And I'd suggest we should clean ourselves up now and make it look like we did not just have sex on this fucking piano." He chuckled.

You quickly obeyed, standing up quickly and running over to his podium where he had a tissue box. You knew you were to return home and shower, but for now, this would suffice. Besides, you didn't know how much time you had before a student would walk in, so both of you focused on yourselves.

You had found your phone and quickly switched to the camera to make sure your hair wasn't too much of a mess, along with your makeup. Thankfully, it was a quick fix for anything out of place, and you took care of it while Sam finished buttoning up his shirt.

After you had placed your phone in the back pocket of your jeans, you walked over to him.

"Do you do this with all of your students?" You questioned him with sarcasm.

He shook his head with a breathy chuckle. "Only the ones I like." He shrugged, catching onto your teasing.

You giggled at his response, choosing to leave the teasing behind in fear of the unknown amount of time you had left with him. "So, I'll see you tomorrow for class then?" You rocked on your heels.

"Well, I'd hope so," he smiled at you, sliding his hand onto your waist and pulling you closer. "Will I start seeing you outside of class, too?"

You felt a rush of warmth from his touch, a sense of comfort that had now been familiarized to you. "I think we can arrange that." You said in a playful manner as you placed the palms of your hands onto his chest.

His thumb traced small circles on your waist, his expression softening with a mixture of desire and affection. "Good," he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against yours once more. "I look forward to it."

After you had parted from his lips again, you reluctantly pulled away from him and made your way to the doors of the lecture hall. You were hoping that whatever student was to come next wasn't outside already, because by the burning sensation that filled your cheeks, you could not hide that something had occurred beyond the lesson with him. With your professor.

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