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builtbybrokenbells · 1 month

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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.”

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jaketsparrow · 4 months

Text

SOMETHING... | JTK

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 10.6K

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

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

Playlist

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

MINORS DNI

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

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

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

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

Professor Kiszka on the other hand…

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

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

3 Months Ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was empty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“-Your favorite?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t approve?” He scoffs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please, call me Jacob.”

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

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

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

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

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

You turn to face him, “Yes professor?”

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

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

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

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

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

Present

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look like a pirate.” You responded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.” He prods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two Hours Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You press play and lower the needle onto the music.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, dear god.” You sigh.

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

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

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

“Want to know something funny?” He questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I offend you?” You ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See this paragraph here?” He questions.

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

You need to focus.

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

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

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

“What…? What problem?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Professor-” You initiate.

“Jacob.” He replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But?” He inquires.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not scared Jacob. What rules?”

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

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

“How rough are we talking…” You prod.

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

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

You wanted that. Had practically dreamed about it before…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He leaned down from his high position to plant gentle kisses along your neck. Gingerly leaving behind little reminders of passion.

“-And if you’re going to be my slut,” He whines through breathy kisses, “you need to know the safe words.”

You run your hands up to his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. Tracing his scalp over your fingertips. You don’t want to go this slow, the breaks are killing you. You just want to feel him. You want to feel him on you, in you, taking you completely as his own.

His kisses finally reach the band of your jeans, but that doesnt stop him from exploring further. He pulls down on the jeans to reveal more of your stomach, delivering gentle almost tickling kisses.

“Green,” He whispers, “Means you like it… You don’t want me to stop.”

His hand travels over to the button of your jeans, popping the metal away from the denim. Your eyes follow him, watching his hair fall over your stomach, the metal of his necklace chilling your bare skin. His shoulders look strong here, masculine, powerful. Watching him focus so intently on you is killing you. This is a man unlike any other that you’ve been with, he’s focused on treating you first, even if there were some other pleasures in it for him.

“Yellow,” The zipper slowly starts to unravel as he pulls your pants further down, “Means you need me to slow down… If you need a break…”

Your pants steadily fall off of your legs, finally being exposed to him entirely until they fall onto the floor. The only thing separating you from him now is your thong. Which you are now praising yourself for wearing today. He resumes his consuming kisses across your midsection, joining back down where he had left off. His hands slip underneath him to grab the edges of the lace, sliding off the thong with ease.

His kisses start to graze you closer to your…

He stops and lifts himself. His hand leads up to your mouth, putting his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. You accept them, excited for what it means.

“Red.” His voice develops a more serious tone, “Means stop.”

He removes his now slick fingers from your mouth, returning them down below. His fingers reach your cunt, and you welcome him with excitement of your own. Your body is in shambles waiting, wanting to know what it feels like. His fingers dance across your aching clit, his thumb padding the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through your deprived body. A loud distressed moan escapes you, you can’t help but express your enthusiasm.

“Don’t worry sir,” You shudder through achy moans, “I don’t think I’ll need to use that one.”

“Good girl.”

Without any hesitation his fingers breach you, filling you up. He stands over you, watching you grow with the agony of pleasure. Your breath hitches with each pump, your back arching with each lift of his fingers. His thumb traces back over your clit, stimulating every inch of you.

Every attempt at communicating the feeling faulters, except for, “Oh fuck-”

Your body is shaking with each movement. He’s painting the perfect picture of an orgasm with just one hand. The power he holds, the knowledge he has. He knew how to please you better than you knew how to.

His free hand makes its way around your neck, gripping it, holding you in place so he can work harder at you. You’ve never been choked before, it’s a completely new sensation. The gasps for air were something you thought you’d fear, but instead, you were wishing he’d hold on harder.

“Green?” He asks, looking for permission.

You nodded your head ferociously

You feel yourself completely letting go under his control, something you feared once to let him have all the power. But here, now, held down to his desk… You never wanted it to stop.

“Words.” He barked.

Your hand reaches up to hold his wrist, “Yes, yes…”

“Yes, what?” He asks again, his fingers slowing their movement. Clearly, he wouldn’t be letting you get away with anything. You had to be obedient and do as he told you.

“Yes… Please, Sir,” You beg.

The words were getting harder to communicate. If he could finger you into oblivion, you might let him if it meant you could feel this good again.

He smiled in approval and resumed his previous pace. Steadily building faster, and faster. Harder and harder. You could feel how wet you were becoming, it really didn’t take much for him to draw the excitement out of you. The swirls of his fingers and the vigor of his motions were precise… Calculated, trying to accomplish only one mission; and he was close to succeeding.

Your moaning only got more frequent and louder, you couldn’t hold back. The pleasure was far too great to stay quiet. He almost let you be loud too, only for a few moments before reminding you of your location. He lifted his hand off your neck to lift a single finger to his lips and then pointed around the room.

“If my good girl can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to make her. We don’t want anyone spoiling all the fun.”

You nod your head, remembering you were still in his office. Your surroundings had escaped you completely; only thinking of him and you.

His thumb started to apply more pressure, practically begging for you for more. A softer moan forced its way out, helpless to be silenced. His hand plasters itself over your mouth, holding you silent. The pads of his fingers resting deep into your cheeks.

“I know baby, it’s so hard… You’re gonna be so good and come for me now, okay?”

Finally being relieved of speaking, you nod your head, ready for the climax. His fingers dive upward, grazing the sweet spot buried inside of you. The pressure, the sensation it’s all too much. You feel your belly tighten, your back arching. He’s trying to hold you steady as you writhe in pleasure. There’s no stopping anything now.

“Do it baby, come on… Be a good little slut for me…”

Your eyes roll deep back into your head. You feel the sweet sensation of release wash over you. Like a wave of ecstasy, traveling from your toes, past your aching clit, through your belly, all the way to your head. Stifled moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. His fingers stay at their steady pace, pushing past your orgasm. You feel yourself dripping around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, you’ve never felt the devotion to make you feel this good. Your body is quivering around him, unable to shake the overstimulation. You’re squeezing onto his wrist, trying to come down easy, but everything he’s doing is making the sensations crash into you.

He takes his hand away from your mouth and you immediately gasp for air, trying to find serenity.

“Oh god,” You moan, “How did you-”

He shuts you up by taking his mouth to your soaked cunt, sliding his tongue through the mess he made. You place your hands beside you to sit up slightly. This was a sight you did not want to miss. You take his hair in your hands and tuck it aside. Each stripe of his tongue makes you wince, you want him to stop, but you can’t let him. It feels too good. It’s too much but just the right amount all at once.

He was consuming you, desperate to explore every inch of you. Wildly eating you up, trying to capture every last drop of his work. You were spilling into him, it was never-ending. It was like you weren’t even there; everything except your pusy. This was a high that you never wanted to come down from. He was devoted to keeping you there as long as he could, but you couldn’t hold on for more.

You fell back onto the desk, squirming through it all. He had you right where he wanted you. You let yourself fall into him, trying to take it all. Your hands reach over the desk, trying to find somewhere to hang onto, but instead knocking the scotch glass off the desk. Shattering loudly beneath you.

Jacob didn’t stop though, he was completely distracted, locked in. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Yellow.. Yellow..” You begged, completely overstimulated and shocked. How could you even ask for that?... But it was impossible to withstand any more sensation.

He stopped slowly, easing you out of the enjoyment. His hands reached up over your thighs and rested on your hips, slowly petting them with his thumbs. He looked up at you through glazed-over eyes, completely drunk on your arousal. He didn’t want it to end.

Slowly raising himself back to a standing position, you could see how hard he had gotten. He felt just as much pleasure as you did. He was completely lost, coming back to reality. Chin dripping with your wetness…

He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily. The passion was more fiery than before. You did something to him and he did even more to you. It was strange to taste yourself on his lips, but exciting nonetheless. You were caught up together. Complete and one at that moment. And then it all stopped…

Footsteps approached outside the classroom. You both stopped. He removed himself from your lips and raised his head to listen.

A knock at the classroom door.

“Hello?” Someone called out.

There was no mistaking that someone was in this office, between the music, the glass breaking… They knew.

“Everything okay in here Kiszka?”

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He stands and reaches for his shirt, buttoning it with no haste. He grabs your shirt and pants and kicks them under the desk, “Go, get underneath the desk,” He whispers, “Now.”

#jake kiszka #greta van smut #gvf fic #gvf smut #jake kiskza x reader #jtk x reader #jake gvf #professor fic #gvf #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka angst #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut

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losfacedevil · 3 months

Text

Touch My Hand // JTK

a/n~ This is all @writingcold ‘s fault and I’m not even sorry.

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI! Fingering (f!receiving), humping, sexual banter.

Jake enjoyed physical touch more than he cared to admit. Soft caresses across the small of your back, squeezes to your hips, or his chin hooked over your shoulder as he stood behind you watching something on your phone. But most of all he enjoyed holding your hand as much as you would allow.

Walking by you in the kitchen he would gently slip his hand into your free one and lean over to press a soft kiss to your cheek as he squeezed your palm in his. You didn’t mind the fleeting touches, embracing every single time he wanted his skin pressed up against yours. Pulling your hand up he would press a soft kiss to the back of it before letting it go and reaching out to press the tip of his finger against the tip of your nose.

But his favorite by far was when you were both curled up in bed, your respective books in your free hand while his slid soundly into yours and he intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing gently. You never once questioned his need to be holding your hand at all times, rather reveled in the feeling of his thumb dancing slowly across your palm, running it up the length of your thumb slowly before rerouting it to peek out between the spaces in your fingers.

“What are you doing, you goof?” You giggled, turning your attention to Jake. He had wiggled his way down to rest his head against his pillow and his eyes were shut gently, his long lashes kissing the apples of his cheeks. A soft smile spread across his face as he opened his eyes and glanced up as you, stifling the childlike giggle that threatened to spill past his lips.

“Just… finger fucking you.” He couldn’t help the boisterous laugh that escaped him as he sat up and squeezed your hand, hoping you would find the joke just as funny as he did. With a a hard roll of your eyes, you dog eared the page in your book and tossed it onto your nightstand.

“I don’t… I don’t think that’s exactly what they mean when they talk about finger fucking, Jacob.” You giggled, leaning over to rub your nose against his, one of your favorite forms of affection. A chuckle escaped him and he pushed himself up, bringing his free hand over to caress your cheek gently.

“Oh? That’s not the meaning? To put one’s fingers into a… hole?” He chuckled, dipping the tip of his finger into your ear causing you to screech. Reaching up you swatted at his hand, pulling it away from your face and placed it in your lap.

“Jake, please.” You giggled, the string of laughter trailing off as he tucked his face into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses against your warm skin. You relaxed into his touch, focusing on both his lips against your skin and his thumb still dancing along your palm.

“Jake, please what, hmm? What do you want, babe?” Jake questioned, slowly beginning to trail his hand against your inner thigh. Nervous giggles slipped past your lips as you untangled your ankles from one another and let your legs fall apart. A sinister smile spread across his face and he dove back in to the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth in to the sensitive skin.

“You know what.” You mumbled, nuzzling the side of your face against his. He chuckled lightly and pulled back, blowing a cool stream of air of the now bruising skin.

“I don’t think I do. I think you need to tell me.” He drawled, bringing his hand to a stop cupped gently around your clothed core. You shook your head, stubborn as can be and lifted your hips, grinding against the heel of his hand. He chuckled lightly and removed his hand, pressing the tip of his nose against the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think so, sweetness. Not until you use your words.”

You whined out of frustration, not wanting to speak the words you knew he wanted to hear. But the soft chuckles that emanated from his chest encouraged you to open your mouth and speak. Pulling a deep breath in through your nose you turned your head a captured his lips with yours, a soft and needy kiss that brought butterflies to life in his stomach.

“I want you to touch me.” You whispered, letting your lips ghost over his and squeezed his hand gently once more. A smile curled his lips and he slowly slipped his fingers under the waistband of your sweats. You couldn’t help the sigh that slipped past your lips as his fingers slipped down between your slick folds, coming to rest gently against your sensitive clit.

“Is that so, hmm? Gonna give me it all?” He mumbled, pressing his lips to yours once more and threw his leg over yours, pressing his groin against your thigh. You nodded your head gently and reached your free hand down to wrap around his wrist.

“If you can… get it out of me.” Your breath caught in your throat as he teased your entrance, pressing just hard enough to feel your body give before trailing back up to rub gentle circles around your clit. A low growl emanated from his chest as he accepted the challenge and attached his lips to your neck; something he knew would get you weak in the knees.

It was then that you felt the subtle movement of his hips, grinding his hardened length into the side of your thigh. Soft groans slipped past his lips as he slid a finger inside you and curled it slightly, earning a soft moan from the back of your throat. You couldn’t help the giggles that bubbled up in your chest as you realized his hand was still fully intwined with yours, his grip tightening every time he ground against you.

You knew the soft moans and groans you released drove him mad and turned your head, moaning his name softly into his ear. His grip on your hand tightened and he slid a second finger into you, pressing the heel of his hand against your clit as he curled his fingers.

“Feels so good.” You mumbled, taking note of how the movement of his hips matched that of his fingers, drawing you both quickly towards the edge. Reaching over you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging it gently at the root as you whispered a string of sweet nothings into his ear you knew were bound to cause him to unravel.

“Gonna cum for me?” He mumbled knowing by the way you fluttered around his fingers that you were close to the edge, waiting for that one last push to fall. A tired giggle slipped past your lips and you squeezed his hand, turning your head to place a soft kiss against his forehead.

“Only if you do too…” you could barely get the words out before your orgasm took over, causing your vision to go white and a noise that could only be described as a moan and whine combined slipped past your lips.

Jake groaned as his hips stuttered and he sang your praises - how good you felt around his fingers and how well you take care of him as he emptied himself into his pants. A fucked out sigh escaped you as he withdrew his hand from your pants and slipped his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean.

You both laid there for a few more moments, enjoying the pure bliss before he cleared his throat and tipped his head to look at you properly. A giggle slipped past your lips before you pressed them to his in a quick peck.

“I… uh…” he chuckled nervously, cutting his gaze down to where his leg still lay wrapped around yours. A wide smile spread across your face as you pulled your linked hands up to your face and kissed the back of his.

“I’ll warm up the shower.” You giggled, pressing one more kiss to his hand before unraveling your body from his and pushed yourself to stand, slowly making your way to the bathroom to clean up.

Cheeky Jake Girl Taglist: @vanfleeter @writingcold @stardustvanfleet @sinsofstardust @silks-up-my-sleeve @klarxtr @ignite-my-fire @takenbythemadness @gracev0609

#jake kiszka #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fanfiction

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a-nthems · 5 days

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Bites | JTK

jtk x f!reader

A/N: WOW hello! this is kinda short and totally self indulgent. it's based on a song i am kind of obsessed with right now. this will not be everyone’s cup of tea so please make sure to read the warnings. i have another much softer fic coming your way, so be on the lookout for that if you enjoy this one. <3

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, CHEATING!!, angst, hurt/kind of comfort, super toxic, this is not a healthy relationship/situation, mentions of drinking, sub(m) dom(f), slapping, orgasm control/denial, degradation, bondage, oral (f!receiving), pegging, fingering (m!receiving), lowkey hate sex, if i missed anything please let me know!!

PSA: i do NOT condone cheating/this kind of behavior. this is strictly fiction.

You’re so angry it’s making it hard to see straight directly in front of you. Jake stands before you, trying his best to look as innocent as he possibly can, but your blurry vision won’t focus on anything but his neck. They’re clear as can be, the marks, even in the dim light of your kitchen this late at night. They’re still new, but bruising his skin in a way that makes you sick.

It’s not the first time you’ve been suspicious, but it is the first time you’ve seen the proof directly in front of you. You feel like you can’t breathe. Your stomach twists as he attempts to shield your view of the hickeys with his hand. He’s just come home from a night out. He was supposed to be with friends. Jake had told you not to wait up, but despite everything, you had because you missed him.

“What the fuck?” Is all you can seem to manage, and you can feel the sob bubbling up in your chest as you try your hardest to contain your spiraling emotions. You feel hurt, betrayed even.

“Baby, wait,” he starts, moving towards you. You immediately take a step back and you find your back pressed against the cool counter behind you.

“No,” you bite out, “Are you fucking kidding me, Jake?”

“Let me explain, please,” and he is pleading, “I’m sorry, my love. I love you, come on, just listen to me.”

The dam breaks, and you can only imagine how weak you look when your entire frame begins shaking, the sobs wracking through your body. He reaches a hand out to grab you, to comfort you as he often does, but you smack it away. He hisses, but takes the hint and places himself at a safe distance and watches as you fall apart.

It’s ridiculous, maybe, how blind you have been. “Once a cheater, always a cheater,” your friends had told you, but you brushed them off easily. He loved you. He wouldn’t do that to you. You had convinced yourself.

If only they could see you now.

“Baby, listen to me. Breathe, just breathe,” he tries, “I love you, breathe, in and out, sweet girl.”

“Fuck you,” it’s more of a whisper than you intend it to be, and you slide down the counter and find a seat on the floor. Holding yourself up is out of the question, and you seek refuge in the cold tile against your skin. You need something to ground you.

“Don’t you dare fucking say that to me right now,” you manage, slowly calming yourself down, “You don’t do that to someone you love.”

“I do love you,” he sighs, “I promise. I do.”

“Shut up,” you yell, “Please, just shut up,” this time, it’s softer, more of a desperate plea. Hearing his voice will do nothing to help the immense hurt you’re feeling.

Jake offers a small nod, sighing loudly as if you’re the one being unreasonable.

It takes a few minutes for the panic to settle, and eventually you’re still sat on the floor and looking ahead with a vacant stare, breathing heavily, a few stray tears still falling.

“Talk,” you demand.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, “I promise nothing else happened. We were drunk, she just started-”

“Don’t you dare put all the blame on someone else. Be a fucking grown up.”

You can’t even look at him.

“Okay,” he tries his best not to sound irritated and fails, “We were both drunk. Flirting, I suppose. I know it was wrong. She kissed me, but I did kiss her back. Obviously, she got carried away with them.”

“And?”

“That’s it,” he frowns.

“So you go out, get drunk, and flirt with the first random pretty girl that comes onto you? Are you that fucking desperate? I’ve been here all night waiting for you to get home, to our home, and you’re out fucking some other girl?”

You get up from your spot on the floor, finally forcing yourself to look at him. To his credit, he looks hurt. Guilty, even. You try not to care.

“I didn’t fuck her,” is what he settles on.

“Great,” you laugh, “Did she fuck you, then? Suck you off in the bathroom maybe?”

He visibly winces at that, “You know better.”

“I don’t think I do, Jake.”

“I wouldn’t-” he starts, but you’ve had enough already.

“Shut up. Now,” you move closer to him until he is now backed against the counter, “You wouldn’t what? Let someone else fuck you? That’s just for me, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes wide and hands gripping the edge of the marble so hard his knuckles are turning white.

“Oh, so anything else is up for grabs, hm? Letting other women mark up what’s mine, kiss what’s mine, touch what’s mine?”

“No, that’s not true, and you know it,” he’s still speaking quietly, scared of your sudden change in demeanor.

“Again, I don’t know what’s true, apparently,” you step forward again, pressing yourself against him. He inhales sharply, looking down at how close you are, and fights the urge to reach out and grab your hips.

Jake stays silent, locking eyes with you once again.

“You’re mine. Maybe you need a reminder, hm?”

You reach up and run your fingers through his hair. He immediately starts nodding, and you can feel him growing harder against your thigh as he tries not to grind against you. His mouth opens, but before he can get a word out, you grip his hair tightly in your fist and pull, effectively forcing his head back and giving you full access to his neck.

“Shut up,” you say sharply as he lets out a pained hiss, “I’ve heard enough of your shit.”

Your lips brush against his neck, against the marks she left a few hours earlier. He lets out a quiet whimper, which causes you to tighten your grip on his hair once again.

“She really did a number on you, huh?” You speak lowly as you begin to kiss softly over the red blooming over his tan skin. His chest is heaving as you begin sucking over the expanse of the bruises, trying to erase her marks with your own.

Jake’s hips kick up against you when you bite him harshly which causes you to pull your mouth away and push a thigh between his own. He bites down on his lip, trying desperately not to make a sound as you instructed.

“Bedroom,” is all you say, stepping back to let him follow your command. You watch, somewhat delighted, as he nods and makes his way out of the kitchen, throwing one last guilty glance over his shoulder before disappearing and making his way to your shared room.

You take a deep breath once he’s gone, and wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. You’re absolutely angry and hurt, which has somehow bled into arousal. Shaking your head at yourself, you decide to let him suffer a bit longer, and grab yourself a glass of water.

Taking a sip, you stare at your reflection in the window in front of the sink and frown. Your mascara has run down your face, and the hurt is written all over your expression. Looking down at your hand, you realize you’ve been shaking this whole time.

The anger hits you once again, and the glass slips from your hand, falling to the floor with a loud shatter. It only serves as a reminder of how broken you yourself feel.

Running a hand through your hair, you let out a sigh and decide to leave the glass for later cleanup. You wipe the mascara off of your face to the best of your ability before turning to make your way to the bedroom.

Pushing open the door, you find Jake laying back on the bed only in his boxers and palming himself through them. He immediately pulls his hand away from himself when you enter, looking at you with wide eyes as if to apologize.

“So fucking desperate, Jake,” you shake your head at him, “Can’t even wait five minutes for me.”

His mouth opens then quickly shuts again, remembering your earlier demand for silence. Ignoring him, you dig through one of the drawers of your dresser. He whines softly when you turn around and show what you grabbed. You toss the strap onto the bed next to him, watching as he eyes it desperately.

“Sit up,” you order, and he complies.

“You remember the safe word?” You ask softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

He nods, but you ask for confirmation, “You can say it.”

“Red,” he breathes out.

You almost smile. “I think you owe me, baby,” you sigh, “Getting me all worked up, hurting me like that. Make me feel good, then I’ll think about you, hm?”

He nods, moving to grab your hips to flip you onto the bed when you give him a pointed look. He retreats, and you instruct him to lay back on the bed once again.

Getting up from the bed, you can tell he’s confused. You come back holding a piece of simple black rope, and then he understands. Jake brings his hands out in front of him, offering them to you before you even get the chance to ask.

You wrap the rope around his wrists and tie it, pulling it so it’s snug against him, but not uncomfortably tight. “Above your head,” you order.

As he does what you’ve asked of him, you take the time to remove your shirt and shorts, leaving both your bra and panties on. Moving to straddle his hips, he licks his lips at the sight of you.

Running your hands down his chest, you watch as he shivers at your touch, muscles twitching.

“You’re so hard, baby,” you hum, grinding your hips down just once, “Did she not do a good job? Didn’t get you off?”

Jake shakes his head no, “You can answer me,” you decide, “Only if I ask you a question.”

“Okay,” he gasps out as you reach up to grab his neck. Squeezing lightly, you watch as his mouth drops open and his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip.

“So? She really didn’t get you off?” You grind against him again.

He fights to keep his breath steady enough to respond, “I told you she didn’t, love.”

“Did you get her off instead? Bend her over the dirty bathroom sink and eat her out? Did she taste good? As good as me?” You question him.

“I didn’t, I promise, I wouldn’t. Only want you, I’m sorry,” he rambles.

“Stop apologizing if you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it, baby, I do,” he begs.

You roll your eyes, lifting yourself off of him to slide your panties down your thighs. His fingers twitch where they rest above his head, wanting to reach down and touch you.

“Make me cum,” is all you say before shifting up the bed over him so your cunt is directly above his face. He licks his lips again and nods frantically.

You finally let yourself fall down against him, thighs sitting on either side of his head. You grab his hands with one of yours, “If you need a break squeeze me three times. Do it now so I know you understand,” you sigh out as he drags his tongue across your slit and up to your swollen clit. He squeezes your hand three times, and you squeeze his hand back just once to confirm you felt it.

He swirls his tongue around your clit, sucking it into his plush mouth and humming against you lightly. He knows exactly how to make you fall apart, especially with his mouth. He goes down on you anytime he has the chance.

“Feels good,” you offer him just the smallest amount of praise, before taking action and grinding yourself against his tongue. You look down to find him watching you closely, eyes wide and desperate. He’s moaning into you at the taste, begging for more without words. The way he looks when he’s eating you out never fails to make you even more desperate.

He sucks your swollen bud into his mouth again, swirling over and over it with his tongue, just like he knows you like. He’s playing dirty, trying to get you to cum quickly. You choke on a moan, eyes rolling back in your head as you feel the knot in your stomach tightening.

“Fuck, Jake, I’m gonna cum,” you gasp out.

He hums against you, working his tongue faster, eyes still locked on yours, desperately trying to get you there. You slam head on into your orgasm, crying out his name, tightening your grip on his hand as you feel the pleasure coursing through your body.

He lets you ride it out, still licking against you softly and rubbing his thumb softly against your hand above him. You don’t fall off of him until your thighs are shaking. His hair is messy, face covered in your release, and soft whines are trilling off his tongue.

“Don’t think that means you’re forgiven,” you mumble. You reach up to grab his face, forcing him to look at you, “You’re lucky I even let you taste me. You don’t deserve it.”

“I know,” he whispers out, “Thank you.”

You let go of his face, instead resting your hand flat against his cheek. He knows you well enough to know what’s coming, and braces for the impact.

“Give me a color.”

“Green,” his reply is breathy, “I deserve it. Hit me, I know you want to.”

“Yeah, you do fucking deserve it.”

Your palm comes in contact with his cheek, a smack noise sounding throughout the room, followed by a groan from Jake. “Cannot believe you,” you speak again. Leaning down, you connect your lips for the first time since he came home. He whines into your mouth, licking into you desperately.

“I know, I’m sorry, baby, please. More,” he whispers against your lips. He sounds more desperate than you can ever remember him being.

“You’ll get what I want to give you,” you say plainly, moving from your place on his hips to between his legs. He lets you pull his boxers off of him, hands still in their place on the pillow above him.

His cock slaps against his stomach, hard and leaking, already beginning to leave a pool of precum on his soft skin.

You spit into your hand, taking hold of him and stroking him as lightly as you can manage just once. His knees fall open when your hand moves further down his thigh, and you reach to your nightstand to grab the bottle of lube that resides there.

——

He’s moaning breathlessly as you work him open, cock twitching where it lays against his soft stomach.

“Please, I need it,” he begs.

“I told you, you get what I fucking give you,” you pull your fingers out and he whines at the loss.

“I’m sorry. Sorry, baby. I’ll listen. Promise.”

“Yeah, you will.”

His chest is heaving, you’ve taken your time working him up, and you can see how desperate he is. His eyes keep fluttering shut and he’s covered in a light sheen of sweat.

Fastening the strap around your hips in record time, you lean over him again, “You want this?”

“Please,” he nods, “Ruin me. I deserve it, please.”

“God, I hate you,” you bite out as you line yourself up and push inside of him in one quick thrust, “but I fucking love you.”

“I love you, baby. So much,” he whines out, already overstimulated from the constant teasing and feeling of being full, “Feels so good, already. Please.”

“Yeah? Feels good? Then why do you need others?” You can’t help it. Adjusting your grip on his hips, you pull him towards you, smiling to yourself when he gasps out a whimper at how deep you are.

“I don’t, I swear. I’m sorry baby,” you pick up your pace, and a broken moan of your name sounds throughout your bedroom, “Sorry, sorry, ‘M sorry,” he rambles on.

“Stop fucking apologizing,” you bring your hand to swat at his cheek once again. He takes it, a gasped moan flying out of his mouth.

“Okay, okay. More. Please more,” he says through a string of moans.

“Was she as good as me? Hm, Jakey? Are you sure you did not let her fuck you like you let me?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “Just want you, baby, only you.”

“You’re fucking mine,” another slap across his cheek, he bites out a desperate groan, nodding his head, “No one will fuck you like I can.”

“Mhm,” he gasps through a moan, “No one, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you cut through his apology with a sharp thrust, his back arching into you.

You reach between the two of you to grab his cock, starting to stroke him in time with your thrusts. He’s whining, little “uh” sounds escaping his open mouth everytime you thrust into him.

“Baby, ‘m close,” he warns you, “Gonna cum.”

“No,” you say as you take your hand away from his leaking cock and slow you thrusts down until you’re stopped, still fully inside of him.

He whines, his hands that have so far stayed in place above him coming down in an attempt to grab you. You take hold of his wrists before he makes contact, pushing them back against the bed and holding them there.

“Keep going,” he begs, “Please, gorgeous. I need it, I need to cum.”

“Tell me what you did, maybe I’ll let you cum.” You lay out a compromise, grinding your hips against him, pushing the strap deeper inside of him.

Jake whimpers, eyes rolling back. “I told you already, I told you everything.” As angry as you are, he looks delicious.

“I want details, Jake. How did you touch her? How did she touch you? What did you say to her? You’re not fucking cumming until you tell me everything.”

“No,” he gasps out, “I can’t.”

“You can and you will.” You pull all the way out only to fuck back into him once.

He whines, tossing his head to the side so he does not have to look at you when he admits, “She was on my lap,” he sounds ashamed, as he should be, “Kissing me. My neck, my lips. My hands were on her waist, hers were all over me, I don’t remember.”

“Like hell you don’t remember,” you grab ahold of his chin, forcing him to look at you, “What did you say to her?”

“I was drunk,” is all he offers you, letting his eyes slip shut.

“Look at me,” you plead, “please.”

He takes a breath and opens his eyes, “Don’t do this.”

“You did this,” you whisper.

Before he gets a chance to respond, you begin fucking him hard and fast again, watching his eyes roll back.

“Baby, slow down. If you don’t I’m gonna cum,” he warns.

“Then you better start talking,” you laugh, despite how unfunny it is, “I think I made myself clear.”

“I didn’t say much,” he whines.

“Liar. You have a dirty fucking mouth. I know you better than that.”

You continue your brutal pace, watching as he struggles to hold himself together and collect his thoughts.

“I can’t, you need to slow down.”

You stop again, looking at him expectantly.

“I told her she was pretty. That I wanted her, but it wasn’t true. I promise, baby. None of it was true.”

“Fuck you,” is all you can manage, the anger still bleeding into the desire to absolutely ruin him. You pick up your pace once again, taking a hold on his neck and using your other hand to stroke him.

“Fuck me,” he gasps out from your grip around his throat, “Ruin me.”

“I will,” you promise, stroking him faster.

You feel him twitch in your hand, his mouth falling open and moans falling out with every thrust of your hips, “I’m gonna cum, pretty girl.”

“Wait,” you force him to look at you again, “I’ll tell you when you can.”

“I can’t wait, baby.”

“Fucking wait,” you slap him again, and he lets a high pitched whine as his thighs begin shaking around you.

“I’m sorry baby, please,” you watch as a tear falls from his eye, “I can’t hold it, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve to feel this good.”

“I know,” he cries out, a moan following, “You’re right, baby, I know. Hit me again. Please, you want to. I want you to,” he begs.

You let out a small groan, reaching up to place a smack across his cheek once again. You’re so worked up, despite him getting you off only a bit earlier. The friction of the strap rubs against your swollen clit with each thrust, but it is nowhere near enough to make you cum again.

“Baby,” he pulls you out of your own desperate thoughts, “Baby, fuck, baby. Please, I’m gonna cum, please.”

He’s shaking still, head thrashing back and forth against the pillow as he tries to follow your direction.

“No,” you whine, grabbing his chin one again and forcing eye contact.

“I can’t look at you,” his eyes close again, “Too much, too pretty, baby, please,” you slap him again and his eyes fly open, getting the hint. “Oh god,” he moans out as his eyes lock onto your own.

“Cum,” you finally give him permission, grabbing at his hands above him.

“Fuck, thank you,” he wheezes as his orgasm hits him head on, white streaking across his stomach and onto your hand, stealing the air from his lungs, “Thank you, sweet girl. I love you,” he continues to mumble sweet nothings into the air as he comes down from his high.

You don’t reply other than a quick, “You’re welcome,” and slowly pull out. He hisses at the loss, then realizes your hand is still holding his own and gives you a squeeze.

“Let me make you feel good,” he offers, “I can do it. Anything for you, please.”

“No,” you shake your head, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” he whispers, squeezing your hand tighter.

“I wonder why,” you hum, untying his wrists and beginning to move off of him.

His hands fly to your waist, holding you close to him. You give in easily, and allow him to flip the two of you over and settle in his favorite spot - between your thighs. He begins leaving light kisses on the inside of them, and just before he begins to go down on you again, he whispers softly, “I love you.”

And you almost believe him.

Taglist: @lyndz2names

49 notes · View notes

vanfleeter · 8 months

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Letting Her Go // JTK

Characters: Jake x Fem!reader Warnings: As always, 18+ so minors, please DNI! Angst. Heart break. Drinking. Swearing. Smut. Kissing. Sex. Penetrative sex (p in v). Unprotected sex.

Summary: Jake makes the mistake of letting you go. You come back to collect your things and having the closure you both don't want but need to do.

Hearing the front door open and close, you perk up on the couch and see Jake fly past the threshold of the living room and to the kitchen where you hear him rummaging through the fridge. Pushing off the couch, you go into the kitchen to find him filling a cooler with beer and ice.

“You’re going back out?” You ask as you lean against the doorframe of the kitchen.

“Uh.. Yeah..” He bustles around the area as he gathers more cold items and puts them inside the cooler. “Josh is inviting people over for a bonfire, super small.”

“Oh, okay. Should I-”

“I’m sorry babe, it’s only for work.” He says as he approaches you and kisses your cheek.

“Oh..”

“I promise I won’t be out late,” He says as he goes back to the cooler and pulls it off the counter. “I love you.” He gives you another kiss before disappearing out of the kitchen.

“I love you…” The door shuts as you speak and your shoulders slump. “..too..”

Huffing and looking around the kitchen, you go over to the stove and turn off the burner and move the pan to the side. You pull the lid from the pan, allowing the steam to flow up into the air. You cooked one of his favorites, one you texted him about and he responded with his excitement. Seems like you’ve been placed on the back burner… Again.

–

It had been a few hours since Jake had left for the bonfire. You had cleaned a little, showered, and now relaxing in the living room with a movie playing in the background. It wasn’t until you were scrolling through instagram when you saw Sam’s partner post a video on her story. You sit at the sight of Josh’s backyard. She was filming a video of everyone gathered around the fire pit. She’s there? But Jake said it was only for work. So why was she there?

It only got worse when you saw Danny’s and Josh’s partners gathered around the fire.

You begin to wonder why he lied to you? And also what bullshit lie he told his brothers when you didn’t come with him?

Locking your phone, you toss it to the other side of the couch before leaning forward on your knees.

Thoughts raced through your head, anger and hurt surged through your veins. You didn’t realize you had been sitting there for as long as you have until you heard the front door open. You didn’t want him to see you like this, so you quickly made your way to the bathroom and shut the door.

A knock comes on the door a few minutes later. “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m heading to bed, are you coming up?”

“Uh yeah.. Just uh.. Give me a few minutes.”

“Okay..”

You listen to his footsteps as he makes his way towards the stairs and climbs them to the second floor. Coming out of the bathroom, composed and calm, you make your way upstairs to the bedroom. He’s already in the bed by the time you get up there. Light snores fill the silence.

Grabbing your phone again, you open a new thread with Josh.

‘Are you awake?’

Josh: Hey! Yeah, I’m still awake. Too much energy. We missed you tonight at the bonfire! Are you feeling better?

So he told them I was sick?

‘Oh uh, yeah yeah I’m feeling better.. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it..’

I wasn’t allowed to come.

Josh: Oh no! Don’t worry about it! Will I see you this weekend?

This weekend? What’s this weekend?

‘I’m not sure, actually. I made plans with my sister.’

Josh: Oh bummer! I thought Jake told you a couple weeks ago, he said he would! But hey not a big deal! We’ll have to plan for something soon to get together, I miss hanging out with you!

‘Of course! Goodnight Josh.’

Josh: Goodnight!

Putting your phone down, you glance over at Jake. Why is he keeping you from everything? Not including you anymore? What happened? Did you do something that you aren’t aware of? Does he not love you anymore or want to be with you? Oh god.. What if this is his way of trying to break up with you without actually having to do it? Maybe if he keeps freezing you out then you’ll leave?

The anxiety rittles your body and you find yourself not able to sleep.

You had woken up the next morning before Jake so you took the opportunity to ask your sister to meet you for breakfast. Coming home though afterwards, you find Jake in the kitchen and drinking coffee. He glances up at you and lowers the mug to the counter.

“I woke up and you were gone,” He says as you hang your keys on the hook. “Where were you?”

“Went out to breakfast with my sister,” You say. “I brought you this back though.” You were nice enough to grab him his favorite bagel and a muffin, both of which were still warm when you got back to the house.

“I already ate..” He mumbles.

“Oh… Okay..”

He stands from the island stool and cleans out his mug before placing it in the dishwasher. “I’ll be gone this weekend,” He says. “Still hanging out with your sister?”

“Yeah uh, about that. I was hoping maybe I could come with you?”

“Babe, it’s just us guys..” He says as he turns to face you.

“Oh.. Well, the only reason why I asked was because Josh thought I’d be coming too..”

“You talked to Josh?” You nod your head. “When did you talk to Josh?”

“Last night.” You say as you fold your arms over your chest. “Which is interesting, because he also told me that they missed me last night because I was sick.. Care to explain?”

Jake lowers his head and fidgets with the hem of his shirt. “I didn’t know they were bringing their partners,” He says. “If I had known, I would have brought you with me.. So instead of seeming like an asshole for not bringing you along, I told them you were sick..”

“You could have called..” You mumble. “I would’ve come over.. And this weekend? Is it really just the guys?” You ask. “Or do you just not want me to go?”

“Babe..” He sighs.

“Don’t babe me, Jake,” You say. “And don’t lie to me either. What the fuck is going on? I’ve been so confused and hurt for the last few months because it always seemed like I wasn’t invited to things anymore but in reality you just don’t want me there.”

Your eyes begin to fill with tears and you shake your head.

“If this is your way of trying to get rid of me–it’s fucking cruel, Jake.. Just fucking tell me if you don’t want me to be with me anymore. Tell me you don’t love me so I can just leave. Fuck.. I’m tired of being left out of things, I’m tired of sitting at home wondering what the fuck I did to be treated like this.”

A tear slips down your cheek and you quickly wipe away. He hadn’t spoken a word. He just stands there twisting his shirt.

“Fucking say something!” You shout, slamming your hand on the counter top.

He lifts his head, revealing tears in his eyes. Your shoulders drop and you step back from the island.

“It’s not been easy..” He says. “I love you, I really fucking do–but..”

“But what?”

“I think we need some time..”

“Some.. Some time?” You say. “What did I do?”

He violently shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything, I just.. I just need some time to figure out what it is that I want.”

“And I’m not what you want, am I?”

“I’m sorry..”

You straighten up and turn on your heels without another word and calmly make your way up the stairs to the bedroom. Grabbing a bag, you begin to fill it with some of your things. Feeling him in the room, you pause and glance over your shoulder.

“You don’t have to leave..” He says.

You toss a shirt into the bag and zip it up before going into the bathroom and grabbing your toothbrush and essentials. You come back out to find him sitting on the edge of the bed with his head buried in his hands.

Grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, you pull out your keys and take the house off of the metal ring and hold it out to him. He looks up at you, his eyes growing red and his chin quivering.

“Don’t do that, Jake..” You shove the key into his hand. “Don’t sit there and cry. This is on you.” Turning on your heel, you start for the door before stopping and turning back to face him. “You can change this, you know.. But I am warning you. Once I step out the front door, I'm not coming back.”

When he doesn’t say anything or give you any kind of acknowledgment, you nod your head and turn to leave. Your hand rests on the door handle of the front door, hesitant to even want to leave. But he’s made it clear to you, with little to no words.

Yanking the door open, you step outside and take one last look in hopes that he’d be coming down the stairs after you. But he isn’t. There’s only silence. Pulling the door closed, you make it to your car before the tears finally hit and roll down your cheeks like a waterfall. It wasn’t until you were driving away did you see him appear outside.

He stood on the front porch, his hands at his sides balled into fists. Part of you wanted to turn the car around and go back but the other part of you, the dominant part, kept your foot on the gas pedal moving your car further and further away until he was no longer in your line of sight.

–Two Months Later-

Jake

He drops an empty bottle of beer into the trash can before retrieving another one from the fridge. There wasn’t a day he had ever left the house. Not since the day you left. The day he let you walk away without a fight.

He knew he made a mistake. The moment he heard your car start up, he knew.

Most people go through a midlife crisis when they’re older. Significantly older than he is now. You could’ve worked things out. He could’ve made that decision but he’s the undecisive one. And making a decision so drastic that affects his whole life and his future, he can’t do it. He shuts down, he removes himself from the situation. Or in this case, his relationship.

He hasn’t heard from you, nor did he ever expect to. You don’t answer his phone calls or even respond to texts. It wasn’t until one day that he got a response to one of his text messages but it wasn’t you. It was someone else, explaining to him that he had the wrong number.

Wrong number?

You changed your number?

No one had your new number. Not even Josh.

Josh.

Fuck.

He wasn’t happy with Jake. He lost one of his best friends. They had a heated argument and didn’t speak for a couple weeks but eventually Josh being Josh couldn’t stand being angry anymore and they made up.

Popping the lid off of the bottle, he chugs down half of it before setting it down on the counter and pulling out his phone. He starts to dial your number only to remember that it won’t be you on the other end. He drops it back on the counter and finds himself slowly sinking to the floor where he’s ended up multiple times.

He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep until he was shaken awake by Josh. Worry paints his face as he stares at Jake from above him, his hands holding both of his shoulders.

“Oh thank god..” He breathes in relief as he pulls Jake up into a sitting position.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was worried about you.” He says. “You missed a band meeting that was scheduled for today.. No one could get a hold of you. And I come here only to find you passed out.”

“I fell asleep..”

Josh waves the beer bottle in front of Jake’s face. “Fell asleep.. My ass. Come on.. Get up.” He says as he pulls Jake up to his feet. He dumps the beer into the sink before directing Jake to the stairs and pulling him to his room. He sits him down on the bed and moves to his closet to get him fresh clothes.

“Why are you changing me?” Jake says as Josh tosses a shirt and a clean pair of jeans at him.

“Because..”

“Because why?” Jake grumbles.

Josh takes a deep breath. “I ran into her today…” Josh exhales.

Jake straightens up, his eyebrows furrowing as he stares at his brother. “You saw her?”

Josh nods his head. “She mentioned needing to come back here—to get her things..”

“Why did she wait so long?”

“I don’t know, Jake..” Josh sighs. “Maybe she never came back after you let her leave like that..”

Jake huffs and shakes his head. “I thought we moved on from that..”

Josh runs a hand through his hair. “We did… I’m sorry…” He drops his hands to his sides. “But you need to get dressed, make yourself look not so…you know..” He starts to go for the bedroom door before stopping and turning around. “And trim your facial hair. You look like you’ve been wandering the desert.”

—

Walking up the driveway towards the front door, your heart pounds in your chest. It’s been two months since you’ve left here–refusing to come back to get your things, unable to see him. You clench your fists at your sides to control their shaking as you lift your hand to knock on the door.

It took a few minutes before the door was being pulled open. Standing there dressed neatly with sunglasses resting over his eyes is Jake. You notice his facial hair has grown out more than it was before, connecting completely around his mouth and covering his chin.

“Hi..” You breathe out, giving him a slight nod of your head.

He returns the nod and steps aside to let you inside. “I uh, boxed up everything that I could find.” He says, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck. “Although you’re welcome to look around to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“Uh.. Thank you.” You say as you pick up a box. “I guess I’ll just take this out to the car.”

He offers to help you, carrying each box out to your car. When the last box is brought out, you reach up to close the trunk door. He stands idly by in the driveway with his hands stuffed into the pocket of his jeans. He rocks gently back and forth.

“Umm… Well, if you happen to find my sweater–let me know..” You say, giving him a light giggle. “You know that it’s my favorite.”

A smile tugs at his lips and he nods his head. “I know it is.. But if you have time, you can go look.”

“It’s late,” You say, shaking your head. “I’m already taking up too much of your time.”

Jake shakes his head. “It’s okay, really..” He says. “It won’t take too long.”

“Oh uh.. If you’re sure..” You stammer.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He says with a slight nod of his head.

He leads you back into the house and upstairs to the bedroom. You pause in the doorway as he keeps walking towards the laundry basket in the corner of the room. You realize you hadn’t moved or acknowledged him walking back over to you until you hear him speaking.

“It’s kind of wrinkled,” He awkwardly chuckles. “Sorry about that..”

You lift your head to look up at him as you slowly take the sweater from his hand. You couldn’t stop yourself before you’re bringing your lips to his and kissing him. You can feel his surprise as his body tenses but eventually he relaxes and his arms find solace wrapping around your body and pulling you closer.

You wanted this. Just one last time. Even though you know that you’ll be breaking his heart in the end, you need him just this once. Closure. A weird way to find closure after breaking up.

You feel his hands trail down your waist and cup your thighs before he lifts you up and rests you on his waist. He carries you to the bed, your kissing not once broken even as he lays you down on the bed. You do eventually pull away to catch your breath.

You had removed his sunglasses, revealing his worn and tired eyes. You softly run your hand down the side of his face. He nuzzles into the palm of your hand as his eyes close shut.

You know that he knows that you won’t be staying after this. That you will still be leaving. But for right now, he has you and and for right now he can show how much he loves you and how much he regrets the decisions he’s made.

He presses his hips into yours, allowing you to know just how much he wants you.

Barely any words are spoken as the two of you become naked in front of each other. His eyes wander all over your body. Mesmerized. Stunned. Amazed. You name it, he was that and more.

Entangling himself with your body, he pushes himself inside of you. He gives languid strokes as he pushes his hips into you and buries his face into the crook of your neck and kisses your jaw. His hand travels down your waist and grips your hip as he starts to pound into you. Your moans fill his ears as he pushes you closer to the edge.

You grip him tightly, nails digging to his back as he fills you and stretches you with every thrust. Your vision begins to blur as tears fill your eyes. All of your emotions hitting you all at once. Your heart breaks as you feel him pouring out his love. You hug tighter as a tear escapes from the corner of your eye and slips down the side of your face.

But all of that is overridden by our orgasm as it rips through your body. You can hear him speaking to you as he fucks you through it. Praising you, loving you. Seconds later he’s spilling inside of you and filling you up.

Coming down from your highs, his body relaxes on top of you and he rests his head on your shoulder. Neither of you makes an effort to move but eventually he pulls out of you and lays on his back beside you.

You start to make a move to leave but he grabs hold of your elbow. You look over your shoulder and his eyes alone are begging you to stay. You know you shouldn’t. You know you should leave, but that small part of you is begging for one night. You give a light nod of your head and crawl back into the bed. He holds you close as you curl into his front side. His fingers graze your spin lazily. Soon the both of you are falling asleep in each other’s arms.

—

Waking up the next morning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he feels the cold bed beside him as he rolls over onto his stomach. Sitting up in the bed he finds you gone. Everything is gone except for your sweater that still lies on the end of the bed. He climbs from the bed and pulls on a pair of sweats and retrieves your sweater before leaving the room.

His worst nightmare comes true as he finds the house completely void of you. Pulling the front door open, he looks outside to the driveway but your car is gone. It’s as if you were never there, but you had been. He can still feel your touch lingering on his skin and with each memory that comes to his mind, his heart breaks a little more.

Slowly closing the door, he holds your sweater to his chest as he leans against the door. You’re gone. For good. He knows now that there is no coming back to once was or ever will be. He made the mistake of letting you go but now he has to live with it. Forever letting the one get away.

__________________________________________________

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

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alwaysonthemend · 1 year

Text

Falling, fallen | JTK

Author's Note: Hey guys! I’m so sorry it’s been so long since I’ve posted. I have a full time job and I’m in school so sometimes I get a little behind. I hope the length of this one makes up for the wait. The next thing I post will be the next chapter of Light My Love. Thank you to all of you who have reached out about that fic and I’m so sorry it's taking so long. As usual, this is unbeta'd so sorry for any mistakes.

Summary: You’re the best damn manager that Greta Van Fleet has ever had. You’re always on top of things, you never miss a beat, and shows run smoother than they ever have before. In fact, everything would be perfect if one of the band members hadn't decided to hate you for no reason. Jacob Kiszka despises you. And no matter how hard you try to be nice to him, he’s always just dismissive and rude. After countless little instances of Jake being an asshole to you, you decide that it might be time for a career change. Little do you know, your choice might lead to some unforeseen consequences.

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, arguing, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving) oral (f. receiving) 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 10573

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Being Greta Van Fleet’s manager is both the worst job you’d ever had and the best one. On the one hand, the boys are the most chaotic and hard to manage group of people you’d ever met. They were perpetually late to everything – becoming so frequent it was almost as if they were trying to not be on time. They rarely listen when someone else tries to tell them anything, preferring instead to always do things their way (no matter how many times it backfires on them). And each member was so incredibly particular about how they liked things – and were similar to frustrated little kids when things don’t work out. To put it simply: they’re exhausting.

But at the same time, they were all some of the kindest people you’ve ever met. They took you in; Josh immediately doing his damn best to make you feel included, Danny always there to give you comforting words of encouragement, and Sammy always making you laugh when you’re feeling stressed or overwhelmed. They’re practically saints; and despite being so hard-headed, they do their best to not make your job more difficult than it already is. Just last week Josh had comforted you for almost an hour after you had accidentally overbooked a weekend of interviewers, scheduling two within the same time slot. He’d reminded you that being human meant making mistakes and that it’s totally okay to make them. And he’d also made sure to mention that you’re damn good at your job and one little mistake didn’t change that. You’d been able to fix the overbooking pretty easily and you both had laughed at your panic after the fact.

In fact, every single person you’d interact with that is a part of the Greta Van Fleet team treats you like you’re family – well, everyone except one. Jake. Jacob Kiszka had avoided you like the plague after your very first meeting. He’d walked into the conference room clad in a black shirt unbuttoned down to his stomach and a pair of white slacks with silver necklaces falling to rest on his tanned chest.. Dark sunglasses were covering his eyes (despite not needing them inside). He’d walked in with an air of complete and utter control, and you’d immediately bristled as he took a seat. After the introductions had been made and all the paperwork and business discussed, you’d approached him to try and introduce yourself personally. You’d managed to meet all of the other members right off the bat and you wanted to extend the same to him – despite how uncomfortable he made you feel.

“Hi!” You’d stuck your hand out to him. “I’m y/n. I’m really looking forward to working with you!” You had plastered your most welcoming smile you could muster as you waited for his response. He looked you up and down before taking your hand in his. His fingers had been warm and you could feel the callouses on them as he shook your hand.

“I know. They introduced you earlier. And you know who I am.” His words held no malice in them, nor anger or frustration. The only emotion he’d met you with was the absence of any at all. Indifference, complete and utter indifference. He dropped your hand and left the room without another word, and without so much as a glance back in your direction. You’d just stood there, jaw hanging open as you watched his retreating form.

“Sorry about him.” Josh had said, coming to stand beside you. “He isn’t the best at meeting new people or small talk.”

“No kidding.” You huffed, eyes still trained on the door he’d just left.

“Give him time.” Josh squeezed your shoulder and gave you a smile. “He’ll come around.”

But he hadn’t. In fact, it seemed that Jake’s dislike for you only intensified as time went on – despite your best efforts to become at least slightly friendly with him. It seemed like the closer you got with the other bandmates, the colder he grew towards you. It frustrated you beyond measure. Everyone liked you. You pride yourself on being able to find common ground with just about anyone, and you ‘d be lying if you said that you weren’t damn good at getting people to like you – no matter who they are. But Jake remained untouchable. He was the only one that you knew practically nothing about.

It didn’t take long after that first meeting for you to become very close with Josh. It was almost unbelievable to you that they’re twins. They’re so completely unalike. Sure, their mannerisms were strikingly similar and their facial expressions were one and the same – but beyond appearances, their personalities were like night and day.

“Josh?” You had asked, about a month into working with them.

“What’s up, y/n?” He’d replied cheerfully, glancing up from his notebook to look at you.

“Why does Jake hate me?” You asked, dramatically falling into the chair across from him. “No matter what I do, he won’t give me anything. Not even his damn facial expression will change. I don’t get it.” You closed your eyes and laid your head back in defeat.

Josh chuckled at your theatrics.

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just…” He trailed off, lightly tapping his chin with his forefinger. “I actually have no fucking clue.”

You groaned and rose from your place across from him and took a seat on the arm of Josh’s chair.

“I hate it. Everyone likes me.”

“Look, y/n. Jake is just… Jake. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

You paused for a minute, watching as Josh absentmindedly doodled.

“I’m gonna make him like me if it’s the last thing I do.” You declared suddenly, filled with a new sense of determination.

“Oh, God. Here we go.” Josh sighed, placing his pencil down. “Why can’t you just let it go?”

“Because everyone likes me. And I’ll be damned if I let Jacob Kiszka be the one to ruin my track record.”

Josh just shook his head at you.

Step one of your plan was to go out of your way to be nice to Jake, even when he would inevitably try to dismiss you. You’d seen him interact with his brothers and Danny and so you knew that he could be sweet. You just had to figure out why he wouldn’t act like that around you.

Your first opportunity arose one morning about a week after your conversation with Josh. You had awoken early – far earlier than you alarm, and so you had some time to yourself before you had to start rounding up the boys from their separate hotel rooms. You’d gone down to the lobby to treat yourself to a quiet breakfast, away from the craziness that promised to fill the rest of your day. The boys had a show tonight and you had to deal with hotel checkout since they were flying out that very same night to a different city. You entered the breakfast area to see Jake sitting alone in the far corner, nursing a cup of coffee. He glanced up at you as you entered and you waved happily at him before making your way over to his table.

“Morning, Jake!” You said as cheerily. “Do you mind if I sit here with you?”

He glanced at you over his sunglasses, assessing your smiling face as you waited for his response.

“If you’d like.” He said simply, looking back down at his phone. You frowned at his lack of interest but brushed it off and took a seat.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked, giving him the most genuine smile you could.

“Yes.” He answered, short and curt. You waited for him to say more – he didn’t.

“Are you excited for the show tonight? I know I am.”

He sighed and looked up from his phone again at you. He looked annoyed, but you tried to not let your disappointed show on your face at his clear disinterest in talking to you.

“Mm hm.”

The table fell into awkward silence. You couldn’t think of anything else to add. As you sat there, racking your brains for something else to say to try and get a conversation going, Jake rose from his seat abruptly.

“I’m going back to my room.”

“Oh!” You said, taken aback. “Okay. I’ll see later!” But he was already walking away, again refusing to spare you even a passing glance backwards.

“Fuck.” You said to yourself, grimacing. That hadn’t worked at all.

You kept trying as the weeks went by, trying everything you could think of to get him to stop acting like he hated you. You tried bringing him coffee to his hotel room, ordering his favorite foods for meetings, you’d tried asking him about his guitar, or what his favorite city to visit was. You had tried everything and were quickly running out of ideas. Everything you did was met with stony indifference and clipped responses.

Things didn’t start to escalate until after you approached him after a show one night to congratulate him on a wonderful performance.

“You did awesome out there, Jake! Like always!” You said as he walked into the greenroom, sweaty and chest heaving with the exertion of the night. Your eyes couldn’t help but to stare as a drop of sweat rolled down his throat and dripped down onto his chest.

“Thanks.” He started to walk away but you called out to him.

“Wait!”

He turned to you sharply at your raised voice. You hadn’t meant to call out that loudly but you weren’t backing down now.

“Why are you such an asshole to me?” You asked, sudden confidence flowing through you. You watched as his nostrils flared and he opened his mouth to say something before suddenly closing it again. He took a deep breath.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, y/n.” He said, voice calm and cold.

“Bull shit.”

“Goodnight, y/n.” He said, turning his back to you and walking away. You stood there for a long moment, rage flowing through you.

“So,” Josh said loudly, startling you from your anger fueled reverie. “Operation Make Jake Not Hate You doesn’t seem to be going very well, huh?” He looked smug. He too was sweaty from the show and you could feel the warmth of him radiating from his skin in waves.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Joshua. I fucking give up.” You threw your hands up angrily in defeat. “If he’s so determined to hate me so much for no fucking reason, fine! I hate him too!”

And with that, you stormed off, blood pressure only rising more as you heard Josh laughing loudly at you as you stomped away.

True to your word, Operation Make Jake Like You turned into you just trying to ignore him back. You still managed to maintain professionalism, managing his needs and making sure things were done correctly for him – but other than that, you tried to remain friendly with him without pushing for anything more. Instead, you took to hanging out with the other guys in between shows and during the day. And you started spending more and more time with Josh. The two of you had a lot in common, sharing many of the same favorite songs and artists and you both loved to laugh. Josh was so easy to be around and he quickly became your closest friend amongst the boys. You spent lots of time together when your schedules allowed for it, and your little obsession with Jake finally stopped consuming your every thought. He still gave you a cold shoulder, but you tried to stop letting it bother you. It still stung, everytime he dismissed you, but you grew used to it.

Life moved on and your job quickly became a whole lot smoother than it had been at the start. You knew the ins and outs of handling the boys and it took a lot to throw you off now. Things were running smoothly and efficiently – better than they ever had before with other management. Danny had told you as such one night, as you all had been relaxing at a small little downtown bar. You all had a free night and everyone wanted to take advantage of it.

“I’ve gotta say y/n, I think you’re the best manager we’ve ever had.” Danny said, catching the attention of everyone else.

“I absolutely, wholeheartedly agree, Danny.” Josh said, giving you a grin.

“A toast?” Sammy asked, raising his glass to the middle of the table.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Josh confirmed as he and Danny raised their glasses as well.

“To the best damn manager we’ve ever had!” Josh yelled and the three of them clinked their glasses with yours.

You laughed and blushed, touched by their kindness.

“Isn’t that right, Jake?” Josh asked, turning towards his twin who had remained completely silent.

“Oh yes. The best.” He said, his usual indifference melting away into plain bitchiness.

Danny, Sam, and Josh stared at him, all taken aback by the sarcasm dripping from his words.

“You know, if you have such a problem with me, why don’t you just come out and say it to my face, Jacob.” You said darkly, venom lacing your own words.

“Hey, look guys. Why don’t we just-”

“Shut up, Sam.” Jake said, slamming his glass down. “Maybe I do have a fucking problem with you.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the fucking problem, then?” You spat, rising from your seat to glare at him.

“Y/n…” Josh hedged, sensing the impending blow out that had been months in the making.

“Tell me what the problem is, Jake? I have been nothing but nice to you since the day we met. What could I have possibly done to make you hate me so much?”

Jake rose from his seat too, slamming his palms down on the table. Your raised voices were drawing looks from everyone else at the bar.

“My problem, y/n,” He said, and he spat your name out like it tasted terrible, “is that you’re fucking annoying. You won’t leave me the fuck alone. I’m so sorry that I don’t fall for your obnoxious need to always try and be fucking sunshine and rainbows all the god damned time. You can’t stand that I just don’t like you.” He said the last part slowly and cruelly, eyes blazing from across the table.

“And I’m sorry that you’re so fucking miserable that you can’t stand it when the people around you aren’t!” You shouted, and Danny rose from his seat to put a placating hand on your shoulder. You jerked out of his grip angrily. “You are such a dick, Jake! All I’ve ever tried to be with you is nice. But you dismiss me like I’m a child! I’m sick of it!”

“Alright, enough!” Josh shouted, rising from his own seat. “Both of you, that’s enough!”

Embarrassment over your outburst flooded you suddenly, making your cheeks grow warm. Jake seemed to also have the decency to at least look embarrassed himself.

“I’m going to my room.” Jake said, voice cold and very clearly still angry. “Don’t fucking wait up.” And with that, he stormed away.

You collapsed back into your seat and put your head in your hands, a headache slowly beginning to form behind your eyes.

“Hey,” Danny said, placing his hand back on your shoulder, “just ignore him, y/n. He’s not worth it.”

“I just don’t get what I did to make him hate me!” You cried, hating the way your eyes were filling with tears.

“You didn’t do anything. He’s just Jake.” Josh said softly, before taking a sip of his drink to calm his nerves. He hated seeing the two of you fight: his twin and his best friend. He hated it so much.

“He’s just an asshole, nothing else to it. He likes being grumpy. I honestly think he gets off on it sometimes.” Sam said, and his statement made you laugh quietly despite yourself.

“Thanks, guys.” You said, taking a large gulp of your bourbon.

The conversation moved on and you allowed yourself to forget your argument with Jake, doing your very best to shove your hurt down into the deepest recesses of your brain. You weren’t going to let him ruin your night any more than he already had.

Once you all had finished eating and goodbyes were said, you slowly trudged your way to your hotel room, wishing suddenly that you were back home in your own bed. You loved traveling all around with them, but the night's events were making you yearn to be home. You got ready for bed as quickly as you could, hoping to try and get some good sleep since the boys would be performing tomorrow – show days are always exhaustingly chaotic.

But no matter how long you lay there, sleep continued to evade you. Your thoughts were swirling with Jake’s words, and you couldn’t get his angry face out of your head. Him calling you annoying had hurt – more than you would ever admit out loud. Normally, you’d usually be able to ignore someone else’s jabs at you; but for some reason, Jake’s dislike of you made your chest ache. Well… you knew why it bothered you so much – and you hated yourself for it.

Despite the months of clipped words and cold glares, you’d unfortunately found yourself with a crush. More than a crush, if you were being completely honest with yourself. He was attractive of course, but you had also watched him interact with everyone else enough to see that he was actually a really nice guy. He was sweet and thoughtful, always going out of his way to make sure others felt comfortable. He was always humble, no matter how many sold out arenas he played in – and he would still blush when fans came up to him in public. You had fallen for the version of Jake that he never let you get to experience. And that’s what hurt you the most: the fact that he wasn’t really an asshole – he just truly didn’t like you. You were embarrassed for not realizing it sooner. All these months you had spent trying to get to know him and talk to him, you’d just been making yourself look like a fool. An annoying fool, apparently. You vowed to yourself, laying there that night, that you’d do your very best to stay out of his way. No more attempts at conversations, no more smiles or waves when he entered the room. Hell, you’d even try to start sitting out the aftershow outings with the boys. You’d continue being the best damn manager they’d had, but you’d keep your distance.

The following day was filled with rushing around as you made sure everything was ready for the show. You were at the arena all day, checking with sound and the tech people, so it had been easy to keep your distance. By the time the show started, you were exhausted but proud with how smoothly things had gone. You watched them play from off the side of the stage, tucked into the shadows. Josh’s vocals were incredible – as always, and he’d sent you several smiles and winks as the show progressed. Sam and Danny were flawless, of course. They were the backbone of the band and they never failed to deliver. Jake was utterly transfixing on stage. It was hard to look away from him as he played, but you did your best to put your focus elsewhere.

Everything was going great until the third to last song of the set when you noticed Jake frantically gesturing to one of the backstage workers. You squint your eyes to try and see what was wrong. He was gesturing wildly in a manner that’s so reminiscent of Josh that you almost smile. The rest of the boys are sending concerned glances back at him. He’s not playing the guitar. Sam starts a bass solo to try and cover for Jake, but you can tell that they’re growing more concerned. Finally, another tech person runs over to the back corner of the stage where Jake is with another one of his guitars in hand, He quickly swaps it out before running back to his place on stage. Sam finishes his solo – met with thousands of screams from the audience, and you think that it’s safe to assume that few of them noticed whatever just happened. The tech guy walks past you swiftly and you see the cause of Jake’s anger: a string had snapped on his number one guitar – on stage no less. You turned your eyes back to Jake to see him playing again, and this time you could see the anger oozing from him. His playing had turned downright nasty as he vented his frustration out through his music. You looked away, unable to watch his sinful movements.

The rest of the show went great, and they closed it out to the screams of their fans as they walked off stage to go change. There was no doubt in your mind that they’d be going to a bar – Jake would probably insist. You went about finishing up all you had to for the night, and you made sure to go and find the worker who had brought Jake his other guitar so you could thank him for his swiftness. He’d given you a huge smile, shocked that you’d sought him out.

“Hey, y/n!” You heard Danny call, just as you were beginning to gather up your things to leave. He had changed into a pair of black skinny jeans and a sleeveless band tee. “We're gonna go out for drinks. Coming with?”

You shook your head and gave him a sad smile.

“Not tonight, Danny. I’m going to head back to my room.”

“Why? You always come with us.” He gave you a pout, and you wanted so badly to cave and go with them. But no. You’d made a promise to yourself.

“Jake had a bad night tonight, Danny. I could practically see how mad he was up there. He deserves to go unwind. Me being there isn’t going to help that.”

Danny sighed.

“Y/n… come on.”

“It’s true!” You insisted, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “He hates me. He thinks I’m annoying. And I have been annoying. I’ve been trying to force him to like me without thinking about how it must have been making him feel. My job is to make your lives easy, not to make them more difficult.”

“I really don’t think you make his life more difficult, y/n. You haven’t done anything wrong.” Danny said, and the sympathy in his voice made you want to cry. You could feel your eyes welling with tears for the second night in a row.

“Thank you, Danny. But I’ve made my decision… And I think it’s the right one.” You sniffed and swiped a hand under your eyes in an attempt to hide your tears from him. “You guys have fun.”

You walked away quickly, leaving Danny to watch you go with sad eyes.

The next few shows went about the same (though thankfully without any guitar mishaps for Jake). The boys would go out to celebrate, and you would politely decline to go with them. You’d asked Danny to keep your earlier conversation to himself, and he’d begrudgingly agreed to do so.

“You can’t just shut yourself away because you think his opinion about you is the end all be all.” He’d said, eyes once again filled with sorrow for you.

“It’s okay, Danny. Really. I was becoming too unprofessional with you guys, anyway.”

“That’s ridiculous, and you know it.”

“Can we please just drop it.”

And Danny did. The tour continued on, and you slowly distanced yourself from the boys. You kept things running smoothly from afar, and you did your best to stay away – no matter how much you missed them.

Josh had grown increasingly more concerned for you, begging you to tell him what had changed. You’d just shake your head, telling him that you were just too tired or had work you needed to catch up on. It only took him a month to call your bluff though.

“This is all about Jake, isn’t it?”

The two of you were sitting in your hotel room after he’d insisted he follow you up to “catch up.” You’d allowed it, as you’d been missing hanging out with him terribly.

“What’s about Jake?” You asked, trying to keep your voice as innocent as possible.

He rolled his eyes.

“You suddenly avoiding hanging out with all of us. It’s because of what Jake said that night, right?”

You sighed. There was no way you could lie to him. He knew you too well and you were tired of putting on a brave face. You let your shoulders slump and your face fall.

“I just wish I knew what I did wrong.” You said quietly, voice wavering as you fought back tears. You were so tired of crying over Jake Kiszka.

“Hey, hey.” Josh walked quickly over to sit next to you on the bed. “Y/n, come on. Don’t cry.”

Your face crumpled as the hurt that you’d been hiding for weeks finally bubbled to the surface, spilling over your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” You said through your tears, feeling stupid for crying like this to him. He was your best friend, sure. But he was still your boss at the end of the day. This was so unprofessional of you.

“Don’t apologize, okay?” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you buried your face in his chest. He was warm and smelled good, and all you could think about was how much you wished you’d fallen for him instead of Jake. “Why are you letting him get to you so much, sweetheart? Normally, you’d kick someone’s ass for talking to you like he did.”

You just shook your head, shame filling you as you thought about your stupid feelings.

“It’s just different with him, Josh. I can’t help it.” You took a steadying breath, trying to get yourself back under control. You sat up from him and ran a hand through your hair. It was silent for a long moment.

“Oh.” Josh said, a sudden sadness coming over his face. “Damn it, Jake.” He sighed, pinning you with sad, sympathetic eyes.

“What?” You asked, confusion written clearly across your face.

“All that time you spent obsessing over trying to get him to open up to you, the way you made it your mission to become his friend… I can’t believe I didn’t realize before.”

Your heart was pounding with dread. There’s no way he’d just figured it out, right? There’s no way you’d been that obvious.

“What are you talking about?”

He was looking at you like you were a tragedy. You hated it.

“You like him, don’t you? Like, as in more than a friend?”

You turned away, face burning with shame. Josh reached out and turned your head back to face him. A fresh wave of tears leaked from your eyes.

“I can’t help it. I tried to make it stop. But I just can’t help it.” You cried, and a loud sob worked its way through your chest. You were shaking.

“We can’t help who we fall for.” He said quietly. “I’m sorry, y/n. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“There’s nothing to say, Josh.” You muttered, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’ve been thinking,” you hedged, suddenly afraid to tell him what you’d been planning for after the tour, “after this last leg of the tour, I’ll probably ask my boss to have someone else transferred to you guys to take my place. I don’t think me staying is a good idea.”

“Y/n, no!” Josh exclaimed, and the sudden rise in volume made you startle slightly. “The rest of us love you! You’re our friend!” he cried, gripping your shoulders tightly. “And you really are the best manager we’ve had. Things have been going so amazing since you joined us!”

“Josh, I’m sorry but I just can’t do this. Jake’s unhappy, I’m unhappy. It’s best if I leave.”

“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, then?” He asked, voice falling quiet again.

“I have.”

“There’s nothing I can say to change your mind.” It’s not a question. He knows there isn’t.

“No. There’s not. I’m sorry.”

He sighed, and for a moment you’re afraid that he’s angry with you. But then he reaches over and pulls you into a tight hug.

“I understand, y/n. It’s okay.”

You could sob at the feeling of relief that washes over you.

“But you have to stay in contact with the rest of us. You have to.” He said, pulling away from you and pinning you with a serious look. “Promise me.”

You giggled.

“I promise.”

Time seemed to fly by as the end of the tour drew nearer, and before you knew it, there was only one show left. Emotions were high in the greenroom backstage as they all prepared to go out one last time, and there was a lingering sadness in the air as you had let Danny and Sam know that you wouldn’t be coming back for the next tour. They’d both been crestfallen at your choice, but hadn’t pushed you to give a reason why. Deep down, you were pretty sure that they already knew.

“Good luck guys. You’re gonna kill it, like always.”

“Thanks, y/n.” Sam said, wrapping his long arms around you tightly. You gave him a squeeze before letting go.

“It’s all for you tonight, y/n! Thank you for everything.” Danny said, also coming up to give you a hug. You smiled and buried your face in his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

“Thank you, Danny.” You said quietly as he pulled away.

Josh came up next. He stared at you for a long moment, a sad smiling gracing his lips. He finally hugged you too.

“You deserve to be happy.” He whispered in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Thank you.” You said, “For everything.” He gave you a grin.

“Well, boys,” He said, turning to the guys, “We ready?” They all nodded in excitement and you watched them go with a proud smile. Your smile quickly dropped though as you realized that Jake was still standing there. You looked at him, confusion and trepidation clear on your face.

“Good luck, Jake.” You said quietly, dropping your eyes to look at your feet. You couldn't bear to look at him.

“Y/n,” he said, taking a step towards you.

“Two minutes!” You heard someone call. You didn’t say anything as you waited for him to finish.

“Could we… talk? After the show tonight?” He asked, and his voice was the softest you’d ever heard it directed to you.

“Um. Sure?”

He nodded his head curtly.

“Good. Perfect.” He walked towards where the rest of his bandmates had gone, stopping momentarily to look back at you. “Thanks.”

It felt like your entire nervous system was on fire. Jake’s words had been so unlike him – soft, unsure. You felt like your head was in a washing machine, spinning around in all directions with no end in sight. You knew he probably felt guilty. Despite not liking you, you know that he’s a nice enough person to feel bad for being the reason that you’re leaving – any decent person would. And you know that Jake is far more than just decent. You just wish that things had been different.

You stayed in the green room, doing your best to distract yourself with your phone. You scrolled through every social media feed you had and still time seemed to drag on. You got up and wandered around aimlessly, cleaning things that weren’t your job to clean and tidying things that weren’t untidy to begin with. You tried humming to yourself and singing songs, but your stomach was in complete knots. By the time the show was finished, you were already exhausted.

It wasn’t long before Jake entered, and you rose from where you had collapsed onto the sofa.

“Hi.” You said, taking him in. He was sweaty – his usually soft hair was damp and messy. He’d changed from his stage outfit into a pair of dark jeans and a cream colored button down (with his signature look of only having two buttons actually done up). His silver coin necklaces rested against his tan chest.

“Hey.” His voice had that softness to it still – completely unlike the Jake that you had come to know. “Can we go somewhere? To talk? Preferably somewhere where the others won’t barge in on us.”

“There’s a work room down the hall that no one’s using. I ate lunch there earlier.”

He nodded, turning towards the door. You followed swiftly, your purse clutched tightly in your hand. You passed the other guys as you made your way towards the spare room and your cheeks flamed as you and Jake walked by them. You ignored their questioning eyes as they watched you and Jake, no doubt shocked to see the two of you walking together. Your eyes met Josh’s briefly as you left, and your cheeks flamed an even darker shade of crimson as he gave you a knowing smirk.

You pointed towards the door of the spare room and Jake nodded, walking up to it and pushing it open. Sure enough, it was completely empty. The sign on the door said “Staff Only,” and you had only stumbled across it because you had wanted to eat somewhere where the others couldn’t bother you. You had needed some time to just exist by yourself, and the spacious room had been perfect.

Now, standing there with Jake, it felt suffocating. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. His presence was overwhelming. You could smell him from where you stood – a blend of his natural musk and a hint of vanilla. You wanted to cry.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to talk to me…” Jake finally hedged, breaking the silence that has descended over the two of you.

You scoffed.

“Yeah. I’m shocked, honestly.” Your words came out sharp and you winced slightly. You weren’t trying to start another fight with him. But he’d hurt you. Badly.

“Yeah.” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “The guys said that you aren’t coming back for next tour.”

“I’m not. I don’t really feel all that welcome here anymore.” You bit out, and Jake was the one to wince this time. The anger from that night at the bar was suddenly coming back, and you wanted so badly to slap the shit out of him. “I’m sure you were happy to hear the news.”

Jake looked away.

“Not really.”

“You don’t have to lie. I know you fucking hate me.” You huffed and took a seat on the sofa that was shoved into the corner.

“I don’t hate you.” He sounded defeated, and there was a small, mean little part of you that was delighted to hear that tone from him. Like he was finally feeling how he had made you feel for all that time.

“Could have fooled me.”

He sighed again, and suddenly he looked so much older than he had a moment ago. His shoulders were slumped and you almost wanted to reach out and comfort him. But you didn’t. You crossed your arms and stared at him expectantly.

He seemed to sense that you weren’t going to say anything else.

“Can I sit?” He gestured at the empty spot next to you.

“Sure.”

He took a seat. You could feel the warmth radiating off him. It was silent for a long moment. You, unwilling to say anything else and Jake unable to find the words.

“Well?” You asked, pinning him with an impatient glare. “I’m here. If there’s actually a point to this conversation please say it so I can leave.” You know you’re being unfair. He’s clearly working up to trying to apologize but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’ve spent so long letting him make you feel like you’re less than, and for once you finally have the upper hand.

“I’m sorry.”

That stops your thoughts in their tracks. You’d expected him to beat around the bush, to give an excuse, to say you’re overreacting. A straight up, no nonsense apology had been the last thing you were expecting.

“What?” You couldn’t help but to ask, incredulity evident in your tone.

“I’m sorry for being such a dick.” You stare at him – searching for any traces of a lie. You find none. There’s only a sad truthfulness reflected in his brown eyes. “You haven’t done anything to deserve how I’ve treated you. I’m sorry. I don’t have an excuse.”

You let his words sit heavy between the two of you for a moment. You’re at a loss. He doesn’t have an excuse, and you have no idea what to say back to him.

“Thank you.” You finally breathe out, voice quiet and unsure.

“You don’t have to leave.” He says, voice equally reserved in the odd tension. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that’s the best choice. You’re a good manager. It’ll be hard for us to find a good enough replacement.” He looks down at his hands. He’s fiddling with them, picking at the skin of his thumbs the way he often does when he’s lost in thought. You’d watched him do it on numerous occasions.

“I don’t really know what to say to you, Jake. You really hurt me. I…” You stop yourself, unwilling to let him see how deeply his words and actions had cut you; unwilling to show him how weak he had made you.

“You don’t have to say anything. You don’t owe me anything. But I do want to ask you to stay.”

Rage fills you suddenly, so sudden and sharp that your vision seems blurry as your blood pressure rises at his words.

“How fucking dare you.” You seethe, teeth clenched as you think about all that he’s done. “I tried so hard to be nice to you. I wanted your approval so fucking badly. I let you make a fool out of me. How fucking dare you to ask me to stay now?” Your voice got louder and louder as you spoke, and Jake’s eyes widened at your sudden change in demeanor. “Fuck you, Jake Kiskza. That’s all I have to say.” You rose suddenly with the intent to get the hell out of there when he too rose to his feet.

“That’s not fucking fair, y/n!” He yelled, hands clenched at his sides. “I’m trying to apologize, here. You don’t have to throw it right back in my fucking face!”

“Hurts doesn’t it. Trying to be nice, only for the person to throw it back in your face?”

Jake rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“I’m getting the fuck out of here. Jesus Christ.” You cry, turning back towards the door.

“Yeah. Go cry to Josh, like you always do.”

His words feel like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on you.

“What?” You ask lowly, turning back around to look at him. He’s got his shoulders pushed back, defiance glittering in his eyes.

“I said, go cry to Josh. Just like you always do.”

“What in the ever living fuck,” you growl, stepping back towards him so that your chests are flush, “is that supposed to mean.”

He looks down at you and you can practically see the anger radiating off him.

“It means that I’m tired of watching you following him around like a kicked puppy. He’s not interested by the way, in case you were wondering.” A smug smirk paints its way across his lips and you want so badly to slap it off him again.

“What on Earth makes you think I want anything like that with Josh?”

“Oh please,” he rolls his eyes, “I’m not fucking blind. You want him – you’re always hanging out with him, hugging him, touching him. It’s pathetic.”

“And so what if I do want him?” You ask, blood practically boiling. “Why do you fucking care what I do with someone else?”

“I don’t. I don’t give a flying fuck what you do, y/n!” He shouts. The two of you stare at each other, both of your chests heaving as you practically square the other up. His face is twisted in anger – but there’s something else there, hidden in his eyes. It’s not anger.

Holy shit.

“Are you fucking jealous?” Your voice is high and shaky, and you watch as his eyebrows shoot to his hairline at your question.

“Are you insane? I’m not jealous. Jesus, what the fuck?”

There’s a defensiveness in his tone now, and he’s suddenly looking anywhere on your face but your eyes.

“You are. You’re jealous. Jealous because you think I want Josh.” You don’t pose it a question because you know. You can see it all over his face. He’s been jealous this whole time. Sure, maybe your first meeting had just been a result of his poor small talk skills… but everything else? Pure jealousy.

“Fuck you.” He spits, but he knows he’s been caught.

“You are a fucking idiot, Jake. Holy shit. I don’t want Josh, dumbass! I wanted you!”

His jaw drops and he stares. There’s a part of you that’s embarrassed for admitting it out loud, but the panic that flashes across his face is worth it.

“What?”

“You heard me. I never wanted Josh, Jacob. I wanted you. But you were so much of a dick that I gave up.”

“Wanted?” His voice is suddenly small, empty of the anger that had filled it just moments before.

“I don’t know.” You answer, and it’s the truth. After everything, you’re not sure the two of you could ever form a normal friendship – let alone anything more.

“Fuck.” He breathes out, before sitting heavily back down on the sofa. You sit back down next to him, the fight drained from you at your confession. Neither of you know what to say.

“I thought you and Josh slept with each other… or were going to. This whole time.”

You don’t say anything. There’s nothing left to say, really.

“I wish you had just asked. Instead of assuming.”

“Me too.” He turns to you, and his eyes look so sad it makes your chest ache. You don’t want to look at him when he looks like that.

“Would you still?”

You look at him confused.

“Want me?” He clarifies. “If things were different.”

You take a moment to answer. At this point, there’s nothing left to lose.

“I think I’ll always want you, Jake. No matter how much I try not to.”

“Can we…” He stops, takes a breath. You can practically see the gears turning as he tries to work out what to say. "Can we try?"

You stare at him, afraid you're reading into his words wrong.

"Try what?"

"Try again?" His words are small, quiet. He's not looking at you anymore and you suddenly wish you hadn't been so angry with him. "We can go slow. Like we're starting over."

You ponder his words for a long moment. There's so many thoughts running through your mind and you can barely grab hold of any of them.

“I don’t know, Jake. You really hurt me.”

He hung his head, his dark hair framing his face. Even now, you can’t help but to admire him.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” He says, before finally bringing his eyes to yours. There are tears there, and your heart aches at the sight. “I was jealous. I really thought you were interested in Josh.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me? Instead of assuming and then treating me so horribly?”

“Because… because I can’t compete with someone like Josh, anyway. Didn’t think there was a point.” He shifts where he’s seated next to you and turns his eyes down to the floor. You don’t say anything, afraid to scare him back behind his walls. “We may be twins, but he’s got all the charm.”

“Jake,” you say quietly, “look at me.”

He does, slowly turning his brown eyes to you.

“This isn’t a competition. I only ever wanted you.” You tell him, and he can see that there’s no lie in your words. “And even if it was a competition, I still would have chosen you, Jake.”

“So I’m just a fucking idiot, then.” He says, and this time the anger in his voice is directed at himself.

You giggle.

“A little bit, ya. But I still want you, Jake. Despite trying so hard not to.”

“Let me show you I can be different. Please. Let me make it up to you.” He pleads, but you already know that you’d have let him do anything he wanted. Despite everything, you’d still fallen for him. And now here you are, with the chance to finally have him after months of thinking it was impossible.

“Okay.” You breathe out. “Okay, Jake.”

Faster than you can blink, his lips are on yours – soft and warm. You gasp, and Jake takes the opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips. His hands grip your shoulders tightly – like if he lets go you’ll run away. You bring your hands up to cup his cheeks as you kiss him back. The kiss is desperate, needy. All those months of want finally spilling over into this moment. You whimper quietly into his mouth and he pulls away. His eyes are blown wide with need and there’s an almost feral look to his face – his eyes are practically devouring you.

“I’m not making love to you for the first time on a shitty break room couch.” He says breathlessly and you quirk your eyebrow at his choice of words. He flushes but you let it slide, instead rising to your feet.

“Hotel?” You extend your hand to him and he laces his fingers with yours, allowing you to pull him to his feet.

“Yep. Yeah. Just quickly.” He shifts on his feet and you laugh as you realize that he’s painfully hard and trying to figure out how to walk normally.

Hands still clasped together, the two of you practically sprint towards the back exit of the venue. It’s mostly empty now, with everyone else having cleared out as soon as possible after the show ended. The two of you make it all the way to the back foyer without anyone seeing you.

But in your haste to get out, you almost don’t see Sam and Danny standing there gawking as they watch you drag Jake towards the door.

You stop short upon seeing them, causing Jake to bump into you from behind. You both look like deer caught in headlights or like little kids who have just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Um.” You say eloquently and Jake snickers from behind you.

“Alright, you boys ready to g-” Josh turns a corner, and stops in his tracks too. You watch as his eyes sweep from yours and Jake’s flushed faces to your hands that are still interlocked.

“Howdy, guys,” Jake finally pipes up from behind you. “Fancy seeing you all here.”

They all nod to the two of you, and each of their faces are filled with complete shock. You’re so embarrassed you wish the floor would swallow you whole.

“We’re um… heading out.” Jake says and you want to facepalm at his lack of imagination in coming up with some sort of excuse.

“And I’m sure it’s totally not what it looks like, right?” Josh asks with a shit eating grin and a raised eyebrow.

“What exactly does it look like, Joshua?” Jake snaps, eyes blazing at his twin.

“Oh nothing.” He shrugs, lifting his hands up in defense. “Right?” He turns to look at Danny and Sam who are still standing there with their mouths open.

It’s Danny that manages to fix his face first.

“Oh, yeah. Doesn’t look like anything to me.” He says with a smile, and you can practically see the teasing that he’s going to give you after this.

“Yeah, it doesn’t look like you’re going to have sex at all.” Sam says, the little brother shittiness finally coming out.

“Oh fuck off, all of you. We’re leaving.” You start to walk again, yanking Jake’s hand so he follows you.

“You guys have fun not fucking each other!” Josh calls as you and Jake step out onto the street. Jake just shoots him the bird the two of you take off, giggling like kids.

The hotel you’re staying at isn’t far, just over a block away from the venue. But it feels like it takes ten years for you to make it to the lobby, and Jake doesn’t once let go of your hand.

The walk to the elevator is silent, and your mind is working a mile a minute. Your heart is racing and you feel like you’re in a dream. Out of the corner of your eye, Jake stares resolutely ahead, watching as the little screen above the elevator doors counts each floor.

Finally, they open on your floor and you pull Jake towards your room.

“Hold on… key card.” You say, extracting your hand from Jake’s to reach into your purse. You swipe the key card and open the door, hesitating only a moment before stepping over the threshold. The reality of what you came here for sets in suddenly, and you stand frozen in the middle of the room as you watch Jake shut the door behind him.

“You okay?” He asks, walking towards where you’re standing, stopping just close enough that if you wanted, you could reach out and touch him.

“I don’t know.” Your admission is quiet, spoken to the floor and not really to him. You don’t know how to feel.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats, his own voice soft. “We don’t… we don’t have to do anything, y/n. I wasn’t expecting,” he waves his hands between the two of you vaguely, “this. Like at all.”

“Me neither. I don’t- I don’t know how to feel, Jake.”

He sighs and wrings his hands together. You stare at them, remembering that you now know what they feel like in your hand. Calloused, rough – but still gentle somehow.

“I’ve really fucked things up, haven’t I?” Jake asks. You don’t answer.

“I never meant for things to get as far as they did.” He continues, walking over to sit heavily onto your bed. “I was jealous and I acted like an asshole to you.”

“Yeah, you did. But I was annoying, too. I should have just left you alone.” You say softly. “I shouldn’t have tried so hard.”

Jake shakes his head at you slowly, his soft hair – finally dry, swishes across his shoulders.

“You weren’t annoying. You were just being nice. You have nothing to apologize for. Come sit?”

You comply, sitting down next to him – making sure to leave some space between the two of you.

“You know, I heard you talking to Danny that night after my guitar string snapped.”

You turn to him sharply, brain racing trying to remember if you had said anything embarrassing.

“You stayed in that night because I’d had a bad night and you thought you would make it worse…”

You nod.

“You were so angry. I didn’t want to cause another fight.”

“I did get angrier, though. I was angry at myself for making you think that I hated you. But I didn’t know how to fix it.” He looks away and you take the opportunity to watch him. There was only one lamp on, and it cast shadows across his jaw. “Let me fix it. Please.”

You sit there for a long moment and just think. You let yourself feel the hurt and the anger. You think about every rude word or dismissive glare. You think about that night at the bar when you screamed at each other. You think of earlier in that break room. You think about all of it before finally turning to him.

“There’s nothing to fix, Jake. I forgive you.”

His eyes widen comically at you and his jaw drops open.

“What?”

“I forgive you.” You say simply, shrugging your shoulders. “I fell for you a long time ago, Jake. And those feelings aren’t going to go away – believe me, I’ve tried.”

He huffs a laugh.

“But I’m tired of this animosity between us.” You continue, pinning his gaze under your own. “I just want to be with you. No more arguing, no trying to make up for what’s already happened. Let’s just… be.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He admits, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Yes, you do. So let’s let it go.”

“Okay.”

You squeeze his hand in yours. He squeezes back.

“Now would you please kiss me already.”

Finally, a real smile spreads across Jake’s lips and his eyes sparkle at you.

“Of course.”

His lips crash into yours for the second time and it’s even better than the first. There’s no uncertainty now. It’s just you and him. You lean back, grasping his shoulders to follow you down. He pulls away slightly as your weight settles and he smiles.

“Eager?”

You don’t glorify his question with a response – instead sealing your lips over his again. He groans into your mouth as you hook your legs around his waist, bringing your core flush against his hardening cock.

Jake sits up and you scoot further into the middle of the bed, sitting up for a moment to rid yourself of your shirt. Jake does the same, unbuttoning his top with shaky fingers and tossing it to the floor. He taps your hips, signaling for you to lift them up. He slides your pants off you and you kick them off. Jake follows suit, leaving the two of you in nothing but your undergarments.

Jake looks down at you and you watch as his eyes rake over your form, pupils blown wide.

“Look at you.” He whispers and your core pulses at the sound of his voice – husky and low, laced with desire.

He’s a sight to behold all on his own and you allow yourself to stare – taking in every bit of skin that you’re finally getting to see.

“Look at you.” You say and he smiles down at you, eyes growing softer for a moment.

“Don’t do that.” You whisper, grasping his shoulders to pull him down to you. His face is inches above your own and you can feel his heavy breaths against your face. “Don’t feel guilty. Just be here. With me.”

He nods and attaches his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses down your throat. He sucks and licks as he goes, causing the wetness in your panties to grow even more. You slide your palms up his strong back, feeling the muscles ripple underneath your fingertips. His cock is hard where you can feel it against you, and you press your hips up into him slowly. He moans loudly against the hollow of your throat.

“Fuck, y/n.”

He reaches beneath you and unhooks your bra, allowing your breasts to spill out for him to admire. He bites your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth and you whine, lacing your fingers in his hair and tugging.

“Jake.” You moan, rolling your hips up to meet his – desperate for any bit of friction. Jake senses your need and dips his fingers into your panties and slides his finger between your folds, relishing in the wetness that’s gathered there.

“So wet for me, pretty girl.” He says, before bringing his finger to his lips to suck your juices off his fingers. “Tastes so fucking sweet.”

“Stop teasing me, Jake.” You whine, pawing at his cock where it tents his boxers. You slip your fingers beneath the waistband and pull them down and Jake lifts his hips so you can slide them all the way off. Jake yanks your panties down as well and you hiss as the cold air of the hotel room hits your hot center. Your pussy throbs and you press your thighs together.

“Don’t.” Jake says, and he presses your knees back apart. He gives you one last devilish grin before diving into your folds, lapping at the wetness and circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh fuck!” You cry as you throw your head back in pleasure. He swirls your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue before attaching his lips to suckle at it mercilessly. You moan loudly, and you’d probably feel sorry for whoever was in the room next to yours if you weren’t so focused on the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

“You taste so good, angel. Can’t believe I let my own jealousy keep me from tasting you sooner.”

You whine as he pushes one finger inside of you, curling it inside of you in the most delicious way. The coil in your belly begins to tighten, and you know it won’t be long before it snaps.

“Fuck, right there. Jesus.” You moan as he adds another finger and Jake chuckles. The vibration against your clit makes you jump, so he presses his forearm across your hips – effectively keeping you in place. “Jake I’m gonna cum.” You warn and he only picks up the pace of his fingers, fucking into you relentlessly as he continues lapping at your clit.

“Give it to me, sweet girl.” He says against your core and that’s all it takes. Your orgasm rips through you and you whine his name as he laps up your release. He pulls his fingers from you and licks them, groaning as he tastes you.

“Fuck, y/n. You look divine, all spread out for me like this.”

“Only for you.” You say, still trying to get your breathing under control. You sit up and stare at him. His cock is rock hard and weeping, standing at full attention. Your mouth waters at the sight of him.

“Lemme taste you, Jake.” You say as you reach your hand towards his length. He grabs your wrist in his hand, stopping you.

“As much as I’d love for you to, I’m not gonna last if you do that. Next time.” He promises, releasing your wrist. “But tonight I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.” He glances around suddenly, eyes searching for something.

“What?” You ask, rising to lean on your elbows.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms around here, do you?”

“I’m clean. And I’m on birth control.”

He pins you with a heated stare.

“Are you sure?”

“Very. Want you to fill me up, Jake.”

He groans at your words and brings his hand up to pump his cock. His chest is flushed and sweat is gathering at his temples.

“Fucking hell. Okay.”

You spread your legs and Jake glides the head of his cock through your folds, gathering the wetness before slowly sliding into you. You both moan at the feeling of him sinking into your pussy. He bottoms out and pauses, giving you time to adjust to the stretch of him.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight." He growls, brows pinched together as he tries to hold back from moving.

“Do it, Jakey. Give it to me. Move.” You whine, pushing your hips into his. He complies, pulling out of you almost completely before slamming back into you. He sets a hard pace – the force of each thrust pushing you upwards, making your tits bounce as he rails into you. His eyes are transfixed on them as they bounce up and down, and you rake your nails down his back. You wrap your legs around him and press your heels into his ass, drawing him in closer.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He groans.

“God, Jake. Right there.” You cry, clenching your eyes closed. “Harder! Fuck!”

Jake grabs your calf tightly with his right hand, throwing it over his shoulder. He then plants his forearms on either side of you, caging you in with his body. The new angle allows him to hit even deeper, the tip of his cock hitting that special place inside of you with each thrust. You wail as he pistons his hips into yours and little breathy moans fall from his plump lips. His eyes screw shut and his hair is damp as he fucks you better than anyone ever has. You clench around him and he groans loudly, sweat dripping down his chest as he opens his eyes to watch your face as the pleasure takes you over.

“You look so fucking gorgeous, baby.” He says, thrusts growing more desperate as his own release quickly begins to approach. He slides one hand between the two of you, circling your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Jacob!” You scream, as your second climax washes over you, sending white hot pleasure coursing throughout your entire body. It seems to keep going forever, and your legs shake and your body twitches as he keeps fucking you through it.

“Fuck, say that again.” He says through clenched teeth, thrusts growing erratic and sloppy.

“Jacob.” You say, and this time it comes out as a needy whine.

“Fuck, fuck. Shit!” He growls as his mouth drops open. His own orgasm finally arrives and you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he paints your walls with his release. He thrusts into you deeply once, twice, three more times before collapsing onto you.

“Jesus.” You say, closing your eyes as you fight to get your heart rate back down to a reasonable pace.

“Yeah.” He pulls his cock from you and your pussy clenches at the loss of him. “Hold on.” He reaches down towards the foot of the bed where his boxers lay. He cleans you both up before throwing them down onto the floor. He reaches across to the nightstand and flicks the light off.

He collapses onto his back and you roll onto your side to face him. The two of you stare at each other in the dark.

“Do you believe me now when I say all is forgiven?” You ask him, smiling as you take in his fucked out expression.

“Yeah, I guess.” He says, smiling back at you. “I’m still gonna keep telling you though – I’m so fucking sorry.”

You reach up and cup his face between your palms, bringing him close to you so you can press your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“And I’ll keep telling you that it’s okay.” You say against his plush lips. “I’ll always choose you.”

He searches your face before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you.”

He pulls you in tight to his chest, and you can feel his steady heartbeat as you nuzzle into his skin. You toss one leg over him, pulling him even tighter against you.

“Does this mean you’ll come back for the next tour?” He asks, face buried in your hair.

You giggle.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

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

Taglist:

@sacredthethreadgvf

#dee's writing #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic

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wildbluesorbit · 5 months

Text

Wounded IIS || JTK

…a continuation of London

18+mndi

paring: Jake!reader(f)

LONDON MASTERLIST

A/N: I hadn’t noticed until later that the last 2k words of Wounded II cut off. It isn’t much but it’s plot so without further ado, here’s the last scene. Please let me know what you think !!

Content Warnings || mentions of a toxic relationship & night terrors, pillow talk, previously said boner lol

Word Count || 2k

– YOU –

His warmth cores against your back and bakes through the rest of your limbs. You readjust to try and let some of the cool night air ventilate between your warming bodies, but Jake only moves with you, tucking you further into him.

“Jake,” you whisper to no one conscious.

He doesn’t budge. You wait for panic to pour into the room. But it never does. The need to squirm away from Jake’s touch never forces itself on you. Instead, you linger, daring to defy your limits.

You melt back into his embrace and keep the tempo of his rhythmic breathing, huffing against the shell of your ear.

In the past year, Jake has thoroughly sunk under your skin, and it finally resonates this whole time you had been missing your best friend.

You turn your head to view the moonlight pouring in through the window, catching Jake’s cheek and nose and relaxed pout. You swear he’s never looked this serene. You almost want to unpack and settle your life here; to pin the moonbeam in its place to see Jake at such a still in the light’s beauty all the time.

That is until he grinds his hips against your backside, revealing his hard-on pressing into your flesh. Again to your surprise, you find yourself pressing into the sensation. For this small second, you allow yourself to enjoy laying with him, especially because you aren’t ready for anything further.

“Jake,” you place your hand over his and squeeze.

He slightly stirs until you whisper his name again. Taking advantage of his new privilege, he cranes his head down to featherly press a pucker against your shoulder, angling his hips to where you aren’t being prodded any longer.

His sleep-coated voice rasps against your skin, “Are you okay? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

You whisper to ease him out of his freshly awoken state, “Why are you back so soon? You aren’t supposed to know I sleep in here.”

“I’ve known since the first time you were home alone,” you feel his sleepy smirk stretch across your skin as he revisits a memory you do not share, “I always find your socks on the floor.”

His answer catches you off guard, “Oh, well thank you for not making me feel bad about it. I thought I was stealthier than that.”

“I thought it was cute,” he yawns, muffled by your shoulder blade.

You slowly pave the subject towards your burning questions, “Did everything go alright on your trip?”

“Yes, we just finished ahead of schedule and I wanted to come home and see you,” he hums against you and squeezes you a bit tighter.

His sweetness suddenly makes you red and ugly with shame, “I’m sorry you came home to that. It must have been unsettling.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he sleepily scolds, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you’re not some scary monster that’s going to shoo me away. You’re dealing with a lot, I get it, but you’re not a lot.”

“Okay,” you don’t say anything further on the subject at the risk of tears.

He then asks just like he always does, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” you dodge and swerve into your inquiries, “Want to talk about your outburst the other night?”

“Not really,” he returns your tone but gives in, “but I suppose we must. I am so so, really, very, terribly sorry. And this is not an excuse, just an explanation. I was very drunk. I didn’t mean a word I said, I was just lashing out.”

“I was never mad at you,” you admit, “just hurt.”

“You have every right to be, I should never have said those things,” you can hear guilt clawing at his every word.

Yet, you can’t help but wonder where the root of his words stemmed, “Are you mad at me, Jake? You know- about all those things you said?”

“No, no, angel,” he is quick to weed that notion from your mind, “I could never be mad at you. I was mad at someone else and I was not in my right mind and you took the brunt of it, I’m so sorry.”

“Josh told me what happened at the bar that night- what that girl said to you,” you feel him physically cringe around you as you confess your knowledge.

“Josh- I swear if his mouth was any bigger he’d be-,” Jake grunts next to your ear.

“No, I’m glad Josh told me,” you come to his twin’s rescue, “he put some things in perspective for me.”

“Well, as much as the sound of my brother ‘putting things in perspective’ for you terrifies me, I didn’t want to tell you and you feel like it was your fault,” Jake counters.

Rightfully so, as you had immediately assigned the blame to yourself.

“Jake do I-,” you hesitate, not sure how to ask without upsetting him, “Does it embarrass you when you show up without- Do I embarrass you?”

“Please, don’t ever feel like you embarrass me,” you swear Jake’s frown and creased brown are audible as he sternly shoots down the theory, “Quite the opposite. I just miss you is all. I miss feeling you by my side. I miss leaning over to tell you stupid thoughts that cross my mind. I miss having you out with everyone and seeing you enjoy yourself and play along with everyone’s antics. I miss looking down in the pit at my shows and seeing you with your hands in the air. I miss you dancing without giving a shit as to what anyone else thinks. I just hate seeing you confined to this house.”

Your first instinct is to be offended but you know he is right. And you don’t want to ever discourage him from being honest with you, especially about what is rattling around in his head.

“And I’m not trying to pressure you because I will be here whenever you are ready,” his voice becomes a small soft thing that urges you to cradle it, “I know we never talk about it but I always think about us.”

“You shouldn’t be waiting for me,” you quip, pricked by guilt at the amount of affection his words harbor for you.

“You speak as if I can look in any other direction, angel,” he muses and laughs through his nose, “The very thought of you sparks electricity.”

“Jake-,” you can’t help but fuss, “you don’t get it. I don’t know when or even if I'll ever be ready. Time is a precious thing. Don’t waste yours on me.”

His fingers absent-mindedly begin to fidget with the hem of your shirt as Jake carefully strings together the articulation of his next thought, “I don't claim to know or even understand what you're going through, I just want to help in any way I can to get you through it. Because you will get through it, that’s why nothing I do for you could ever be a waste. But I need you to completely forget the other night because I promise I am not going to hurt you.”

His last words ring in your ears. You know you are guarded but you hadn’t even registered that’s exactly what you had been doing to him. Brick by brick, you were slowly succeeding to somewhere cold and isolated, trapping yourself in the exact opposite of where you needed to be. You are certain the issue does not lie within a question of trust, Jake is probably the only person you do trust. Yet for a reason that has no name, it's still not enough to let him all the way in.

“Alright, Jake, you know I trust you,” trying not to lead him on, “but I have seen the way your hands twitch in your sleep now. I just don’t think I’m any good to you- to anyone. Not right now. Not like this.”

He runs his fingers up and down your arm,

“Like what?”

Josh’s words come crashing wildly through your head once again. Jake’s faith in you is set in stone. It isn’t a matter of if for him but when you’ll come around. You want more than anything to be by Jake’s side again. After the way Jake has cared for you, all you want is to deliver his faith into his reality.

The only real thing you find yourself coming back to is Jake. He is the only thing you never find yourself fighting to care about in a world losing its color. He is never a chore or a burden. And in such a confusing season, he is the only thing that has constantly held value in your realm.

If trying to overcome for only yourself is not working, maybe you could try facing your fear for a friend. All you ever want to see is Jake happy, and to be the reason for the smile on his face would only help you heal.

“Jake,” you whisper his name, not even sure if you can even form the next words on your breath but already too far into your thought to turn back, “the next time you go out- maybe- I want- I might- I’m going too.”

You can hear him straining to tame his sudden spring of serotonin at the thought, “Are you sure, angel? You have nothing to prove to me.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, Jake,” you proclaim in overconfidence, “I'm more than sure.”

“Well, I’d be more than ecstatic to have you join me,” he fits the crease of his hand into the dip of your waist and squeezes, “but remember, no rush, no pressure.”

“Unless it's a flat party,” you quickly blurt out the stipulation, “I’ve had enough flat parties for a lifetime.”

“Completely understandable,” he nuzzles back into you and yawns, indicating his next wave of dormancy, “I think we’re going bowling later this week. We can abuse our power to rent a few lanes. Should be quiet and secluded. Can’t wait to see you there.”

You can’t help but wonder if you’re making a mistake. This time you presented a seemingly confident front. What if this time you diminish his hope in you? That is if he hadn’t already seen right through your facade.

“Sleep now-,” Jake yawns out fragments, already slurring into slumbering, “I’ll keep you safe.”

You shoo away the swarm of “what ifs” long enough to fall back under a drowsy spell once more as Jake instructed.

pretty please tell me what you think of this little nugget

taglist❤️‍🩹 - @ageofbajabule @alwaysonthemend @anythingforjtk @becinabubblegvf @dancingcarbon @dannys-dream @dayumclarizzel @do-it-jakey-baby @dont-go-home-without-me @edgingthedarkness @fomopheobe @gretasfallingsky @gretavangirlie @gretavanglimmers @gretavangroupie @gvf23 @gvfmarge @hannahrk @heckingfrick @hsfallingsky @imleavingyoufornewyork @kiszkazz @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @jakesguitarsolo @jakesmustache @jakeysbuttsheeks @lipstickitty @livkiszka @lyndz2names @mindastreamofcolours @mountain-in-springtime @mrbrownstne @nina-23-45 @notjordie-gvf @sacredjake @smoking-jakelane @sparrowofthedawnsworld @kiszkas-canvas @takenbythemadness @thewritingbeforesunrise @tommie-gvf @tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @violet-hayes @wetkleenex-gvf @zoe-tally06

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scenezfreak · 1 year

Note

Riding Jtk?🤭

ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY.

Riding Jeff the Killer

Warnings: Choking, degrading, mean Jeff, Blood…

Short story (sorry 😔🙏)

NOT PROOF READ, MINORS DNI.

You were on top of Jeff, his cock fully planted inside of you. “Go on, move slut.” He hissed out. You complied and lifted your hips up agonizingly slow before slamming them back down, soon you found your rhythm, lifting your hips and slamming them back down. Sounds of your moans and the clapping of when your ass met his thighs filled the room. Jeff has had a long day, getting annoyed at your slow pace. He grabbed your hips, forcing you to fuck yourself on him faster, your hands gripping his fresh bloody hoodie. His hips met yours halfway, wanting to cum fast to feel that euphoria.

“What a whore, are you seriously getting more wet because I’m all bloody? If you like it so much then you should just lick me clean…” he said teasingly. Your mind was foggy, Jeff’s hand moved up to choke you, using it as more leverage to fuck you faster. “Well?” He said, looking at you expectantly as he used his other hand and held it up to your face. He didn’t think you’d actually do it, but you poked your tongue out, licking the blood from his previous kill from his fingers and hand. “Fuck” he muttered under his breath and fucked into you harder.

Jeff shoved two of his fingers in your mouth, you gagged slightly and he laughed. “What a dumb pet. Doing anything I ask of you” he said. Your hold clenched at his words, he retracted his hand from your mouth and put it on your thigh, gripping hard. “So damn tight, I’m surprised since all you do is beg for my cock, slut.” His words urged you on further, you finally came undone with a load moan. You were squeezing him so tight how could he not cum too? He spilled inside of you as he forces himself in all the way to the hilt. His warm cum bringing you comfort. Still having his hand wrapped around your hand, he brought you closer to him and gave you a quick kiss. “Obedient whore~”

#creepypasta #jeff the killer #jeff the killer smut #smut #creepypasta smut #I FUCKED THAT TACO BELL UP #You guys are fr js feeding my thoughts

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sparrowofthedawnsworld · 8 months

Text

thinking about Jake just being able to automatically quiet a baby again.

Maybe he’s babysitting his niece for Josh, bolting up from the couch in the living room upon hearing her cries.

“Aw, come here,” he says softly, picking her up carefully into his arms as she lets out intense little cries. “No tears, sweetheart. You’re okay. Shhh.”

He cradles her securely in his arms, bringing her as close to his chest as he can. Immediately, she begins to settle down, her sleepy eyes looking up at him. His natural calmness could soothe anyone.

“You still look tired.” Jake smiles down at her, gently rubbing her arm with the back of his fingers. “You’re just like me… Never wanting to sleep for too long, afraid you’ll miss something important.”

She lets out a few soft coos, making Jake’s smile widen even more. He studies her for a moment, a whole new and different form of love overtaking him. She is a little piece of his twin. His best friend. He notes the color of her eyes and the shape of her nose, matching Josh’s perfectly. As she continues to coo up at him, he notices the dimples already showing themselves in her cheeks - also just like Josh.

“You’re just like our Joshy, too, though aren’t you?” He whispers, watching her eyes start to drift closed.

Jake lets out a shaky sigh, leaning down to gently rest his head against her’s for a brief moment. “I love you.”

#i’m so sorry #sparrow’s blurbs #dad!jake #gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jtk #the moon 🌙#inside sparrow’s mind

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nixieisaloserr · 1 year

Note

Hi :) (nsfw/suggestive) Could you write some HCs for how Masky, Hoodie or Jtk would react to a partner that has cute moans?

Gahdayum my first NSFW ask. Im assuming JTK means Jeff the Killer, who I do not write for. I dont really like him because of a video I was shown when I was younger which is absolutely disgusting—I’m so sorry if I disappointed you :( The reader will be AFAB but gender neutral petnames/ pronouns are used. I was listening to Closer by Nine inch nails while writing this and the experience was absolutely heavenly.

Criticism and feedback is welcome and appreciated, thank you for requesting! <3

Masky and Hoodie with a s/o who has cute moans

Warnings: NSFW, praise, fingering, oral (reader receiving), overstim, slight breeding if you squint, oh no where did my pants go?? I am going to hell for this.

Masky

When you two first decided to get intimate, he didn’t know what to expect from you.

So he was careful at first, making sure to slip a finger or two inside you while peppering your face with kisses.

When he started pumping his fingers a little bit faster was when it got difficult to hide your moans and whimpers.

He was focused on sucking a hickey onto your neck when he heard your sweet sounds.

Fuck, did it make his cock throb <3

It was hard for him to focus after that, opting to press kisses to your jawline while hitting that deliciously sweet spot inside of you.

He hated the fact that you tried to hide your pleasure by covering your mouth or biting your lip—come on, he wanted to hear you…

As soon as you came on his fingers, he was already taking off his pants and prodding at your entrance.

His hands roamed your body as he pushed inside you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Soon enough, he was pounding into you.

Each moan, sputter, whimper, and curse that left your mouth spurred him on.

He just wanted to hear more of you—he wanted to have your moans burned into his memory.

He outright debated recording it just so he could listen to you on repeat.

He just couldn’t get enough of you and your heavenly sounds—which lead to him making you cum multiple times.

It was so hard to stop when all he wanted was to hear you <3

Hoodie

When he first asked if you wanted to have sex with him, it was literally just an excuse to eat you out.

He kind of just…disguised it as foreplay.

He made sure to tell you how beautiful you looked all splayed out for him, legs spread and all.

He kissed your inner thighs and left bite marks and hickeys, making sure to take his time to rile you up.

This man is a pussy eating CHAMP

Since he was so damn good at it, you couldn’t help but let a few moans slip.

You were now his favourite sound.

Your moans mixed with your thighs squeezing around his head was a match made in heaven.

He almost came in his pants as he listened to your whines.

It didn’t take much for him to get addicted to you <3

Honestly, if it meant he would get to hear more of you, he would fuck you till the sun came up.

Absolutely hammered into you when he finally took his damn mouth off you.

His pace was brutal, but he was so sweet with his praise and words of affection.

He was absolutely filthy with dirty talk.

“So good for me..so-so damn good…”

Probably so horny he could feel it in his throat LMAOO

Poor baby wanted nothing more to fuck you silly, but didn’t want to hurt you :(

Oh well, there’s always a next time! <3

#creepypasta #x reader #creepypasta x reader #marble hornets #hoodie #masky #brian thomas #tim wright #I CANT FUCJCKING BRWATHE

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builtbybrokenbells · 7 days

Text

Little Miss Sunshine | JTK

Amidst a night of high emotion, one single confession turns your whole world upside down, making you realize that you had a certain someone misunderstood all along.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 26k (oops)

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f&m receiving), (sort of) face fucking, cum play, rough sex, also sweet sex, katoptronophilia (mirror sex), mentions/phrases pertaining to free use kink, dom/sub, possessiveness, praise, degradation, name calling, impact play, biting, sir kink, mentions of masturbation (f&m), multiple orgasm (m&f), simultaneous orgasm, overstimulation, begging, lots of dirty talk, lots of making out, dry humping, angst, unrequited feelings, feelings of not being good enough/rejection, overthinking, emotional talks, asshole Jake, drunk confessions, arguing, awkward small talk/conversations, fighting, non-sexual name calling, fluff, drinking, smoking, swearing, crying, sorry if i miss any!

heard you guys wanted some grumpy x sunshine love (this is also kind of bordering enemies to lovers) 🤔 also, this picture is EXACTLY what I picture Jake as in this fic. I was gonna wait to post but I was too excited to work on some other stuff coming very soon 😉. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (very lightly edited)

“And then I said to him, try that shit around here, and you’ll see how it works out for you.” The tall blonde man spoke, his tone grating and growing more annoying by the second. He had an irritating smile on his lips as he continued trying his best to impress you with another, mind-numbing story.

“Right,” you nodded, swirling your straw around your drink, trying to sound more interested than you actually were. As you tried to think of something to say, you sucked a sharp breath in through your teeth, letting your eyes dart around the room in search of a familiar face. “I’m sure he kept to himself after that.” You finally replied, trying to up the ante and lessen the impact of your monotone response.

“Yeah, I love messing with the new guys at work. Always keeps them on their toes.” He said, taking a sip of his beer as he looked over your face. As he lowered the bottle from his lips, he seemed to lean even closer than he already was, making you force yourself backwards.

You had no idea how you found yourself in the situation, stuck in conversation with a mediocre man about his mediocre job (which you still weren’t quite sure what it even was) and desperate to find a quick way out. You had come to the stupid party for one reason, and so far, you hadn’t seen him once, despite it being hosted at his own house. As you scanned the crowd for the millionth time, you found yourself growing more impatient than you already were. Your foot tapped against the ground as you checked your watch, wondering if you were already in too deep or if you could slide out the front door without being noticed.

Then, a wave of relief washed over you as you caught sight of a familiar head of brown hair. You threw back the last of your drink, placing the empty cup on the table as you scrambled to refill it with the premixed bottle you brought in your bag. You fumbled with the cap you’d screwed on too tight while listening to the man across from you ramble about an office staff party he’d attended last week, eventually prying it from the top of the juice jug after a moment's struggle. You tipped it forward, filling the solo cup and snatching it off the table after you shoved the jug back in your bag.

You had never seen your best friend's house so full; people were crowding the hallways, nearly standing on top of each other as they tried to force their way into the rooms overflowing with bodies. The music was astonishingly loud, and you definitely weren’t drunk enough to enjoy it yet. Worse than that, you barely recognized a single face in the crowd, and you were desperate to find someone you knew.

“Anyway, it was nice getting to know you, Johnny. I see Sam over there, so I better go say hi.” You forced a blinding smile, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder as you tried to map out the best way around him.

“J-Johnny?” He asked, confusion written all over his face. “My name is Jimmy.” He corrected, his ego bruised at your lack of interest in him.

“Oh, shit.” You swallowed back an awkward laugh, biting down on the inside of your lip as you shuffled to the side. “Jimmy, Johnny… same thing, really. See you around?” You offered, knowing there was no way you would ever allow yourself to be alone with him again, unless you spent days sleepless and were desperate to find something that would lull your mind and force your eyes shut.

You didn’t wait for a response, instead pushing through the crowd as quickly as possible so you didn’t lose sight of your target. With your drink clenched tightly to your chest, you fought your way through the swarm of bodies that seemed keen on blocking the doorway. You extended your arm outward, your fingers brushing over the thin material of Sam’s long sleeved shirt as you grabbed onto his shoulder. His head whipped around, wondering who was touching him and why they were in such a panic to catch his attention. When his eyes landed on you, a blinding smile lit up his face.

“Hey, I was looking for you! Didn’t think you’d make it, Knockout.” He stopped in his tracks, completely changing course and turning towards you. He took a step in your direction, extending his arms outwards and engulfing you in a hug. You breathed a sigh of relief, letting the scent of his familiar cologne wrap you in an embrace warmer than the one his arms provided.

“I’m the guest of honor, ‘course I made it.” You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him slightly. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

“You’re always the guest of honor at my house.” He grinned, letting his hand linger over your back as he looked over your face. You noticed right off the bat that he reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glazed over, soft and dark as his expression spoke loudly of all you needed to know. He was hammered, and you were very late to the party. “And I think knockout is fitting. A ten who will knock me on my ass if I say the wrong thing.”

“I’d like to be equated to more than a ‘ten’ with a bad temper.” You laughed, slouching down slightly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t call it a bad temper… more or less a ‘fuck around and find out’ type of person.” He explained further, pulling you tightly into his side as he began to weave through the crowd.

“Yeah, I guess that fits.” You hummed an agreement, happy that you were safely by his side so you no longer had to wander aimlessly and get caught in conversation with people you didn’t know.

“It’s way more crowded than I thought it would be.” Sam noted, talking loud enough so you could hear him over the boom of voices and music.

“Yeah, I certainly wasn’t expecting this.” You laughed, honest about your feelings on the matter. When he invited you, he failed to mention that he invited the entire city of Nashville to the party alongside you.

“Yeah, guess I overestimated the size of the place.” He chuckled. “We’re hanging out downstairs, less crowded and a bit more comfortable.” He said, leading you around the corner to the stairwell. There were a few people standing in the way of the stairs, but they dispersed pretty quickly when they realized the two of you were trying to make your way through.

Sam was your best friend, and had been for years. You met not long after he moved to the city, when you were still in college and keen to the party lifestyle. Through mutual friends, you found yourself sitting in front of him at an album release party for a band that no longer existed, sharing your sentiments about the mediocre music and your love of tequila. From there, the two of you formed a fast friendship, finding you had more in common than a knack for drinking and appreciation for music. You weren’t expecting such a strong relationship to come from a drunken night orchestrated by friends who couldn’t have cared less about you, but you were incredibly grateful that you decided to go.

Since then, you and Sam did nearly everything together when he wasn’t gone on tour. Once you graduated, you found that you lost contact with most people from your university days, but it never seemed to bother you, because Sam was always around to do that, instead. When you were holed up in your house, working from your laptop and too busy to go anywhere, Sam sat beside you, commenting on anything and everything that came to mind. You guys frequented the bars around town, and got lunch when your schedules permitted. Oftentimes, you found yourself dozing off on his couch after a movie night with no intent of staying the night and waking up the next morning with a blanket over you and a pillow under your head.

He was the best friend you’d ever had, and you were thankful for his love every single day. You loved him so much that you couldn’t even refuse his invitations to parties where you knew nobody but him and his brothers, and most times you were glad you went, just so you had another memory to share with him. That night was no different; he was throwing a party just for the sake of it, inviting friends he’d made in the industry and drinking for the sake of being drunk. When he asked you to come, you gave a hesitant reply, knowing that you were bound to be awkwardly standing amongst a swarm of strangers. Within a few days, he’d convinced you it was alright, and eventually you gave in.

That afternoon, you spent an extra amount of time making yourself look nice. You went out the day before and got your hair touched up, and you even bought a new dress. You were feeling a little down, finding yourself in quite the romantic draught that worsened your loneliness as time went on. When you expressed such feelings to Sam, he seemed to make it a point to set you up with some of his company and promised that tonight would end the embarrassingly long bout of involuntary abstinence. Although you were nervous about his choice of company for you, you opened yourself up to the idea, knowing that you wouldn’t have much luck on your own.

It wasn’t that you were deliberately choosing to abstain from dating, but you were having a particularly hard time finding anyone who met your standards and more importantly, your needs. You were growing sick and tired of modern dating, and despised dating apps and all that came along with them. You weren’t in search of a hookup, and you weren’t looking for marriage tomorrow. You wanted someone who you could have fun with, to get to know without it being overwhelming and too much too fast. You wanted someone suitable for your mid-twenties; exciting, compatible, and loyal. Unfortunately, that seemed to be quite hard to come by.

You knew you had a lot to offer. You were kind, funny, and sometimes too nice for your own good. At the same time, you didn’t put up with any bullshit, which made it incredibly hard to open yourself up to someone. You could easily tell when someone only wanted sex, and people like Johnny (or Jimmy; whatever the hell his name was) made it abundantly clear. His lack of self-awareness and his commitment to getting closer to you despite there being no invitation to do so turned you off of him from the minute he began to speak.

On the other hand, because of your guard being up, oftentimes you read a little too much into the situation and ruined things before they could even begin. You were at an impasse, and such a large one that you enlisted Sam’s help to find you a suitor. You were an overly nice person who’d been burned too many times, and you were (as some would say) picky. You barely trusted his judgment, but you figured that you would at least try and open yourself up to his ideas, because you certainly weren’t getting anywhere by yourself.

“You know, I figured that tonight might be a good night for you and Jake to get to know each other.” Sam stated, nearing the bottom of the stairs.

“Jake?” You asked, confused as you followed behind him. You pulled down the skirt of your tight fitting dress, carefully stepping down on the cool wooden floor as you passed the bottom step. “Like, your brother who’s barely given me any inclination that he knows I exist?” You asked, bewildered that Sam would even suggest that. “And when he does, he looks like he’d rather be with anyone else rather than with me?”

“Oh, come on. That’s not true.” Sam chuckled, turning back to face you now that you were on solid ground. The basement was much less crowded than the upstairs, just like Sam had told you. It was nice, allowing you to actually sort out your thoughts before your head was pulled into another direction.

“It is so!” You laughed, taking his response with a grain of salt. You didn’t have complete certainty that Jake felt that way about you, but he definitely didn’t make it a point to try and be friendly. “I get along so well with Josh and Danny, and then there’s him. He never talks to me, and he basically ignores me when I speak first. When he does answer, it’s like, one or two words, and never any kind of emotion. I don’t think he likes me, and that’s fine, but I definitely don’t think we should ‘get to know each other’.”

“The other day you guys talked about the weather!” Sam argued his point, only making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, the weather, Sam. You know, like the most basic of small talk that exists?”

“He seemed really passionate about the sun.” Sam shrugged, reaching out and placing a hand on your back. “Just give it a shot. You never know, right?”

“Sam, if that’s who you’re trying to set me up with, you’ve officially gone insane.” You muttered, letting him guide you towards the group of people huddled by his large arrangement instruments.

“Not insane, and I mean it, Y/N. I think you guys would really get along if you got past the weather. It’s not that you don’t like each other, you’ve just never tried that hard, and neither has he.”

“Yeah, because I’m pretty sure he hates me!” You whisper-shouted, nearing the chattering crowd.

“That’s a strong word,” Sam said, clearly trying to put an end to the argument. “Besides, I already asked him to talk to you tonight, so I guess there’s no real way out of it.” He shrugged, a sly smile forming on his lips as he began to walk away from you.

“Sam!” You exploded, reaching forward and grabbing his hand to hold him in place. “Why would you do that? Now he’s going to feel pressured into talking to me!”

“Listen, Y/N.” he sighed, his lips still holding a ghost of a smile. “Jake won’t feel pressured into talking to you. If he really doesn’t want to, he won’t. Jake does not hate you, and Jake knows you exist. He’s just not the most outgoing. Once he’s out of his shell, I promise you’ll understand what I mean.” You could tell that Sam was genuine in his response, much different to the lighthearted jokes that he spewed prior. You didn’t want to be the bad guy and tell him that you thought his brother was an asshole, so instead you shifted uncomfortably under his strong gaze and gave a single nod of your head.

If Sam wanted you to try so bad, you would, but only because Sam was your best friend.

In truth, it wasn’t like you never thought of Jake in that way. In fact, you thought about it more often than you cared to admit, but you would have been caught dead before confessing it aloud. Most of the fantasies of Jake were contained within your bedroom walls, in the late hours of the night and earliest hours of the morning, and it had little to do with conversing with him and certainly not anything romantic.

Jake was attractive, and that was undeniable; he drew attention from the crowd the minute he walked in the room, and eyes never strayed from him until the moment he walked out. His long hair and his beautiful brown eyes made for a deadly combination, and the slight rasp to his tone when he spoke low and slow sent a rush of emotion straight to the pit of your stomach. The pinkness of his lips, especially when they glistened after his tongue ran over the bottom one, was delicious, and you were all but ignorant to that. He did not talk often, not nearly as much as his company, but when he did, it was always worth listening to, whether it was a joke or something insightful.

Jake's physical appearance had little to do with your apprehensions. If anything, it made you more willing to try out what Sam was asking of you. Although he’d never been outright mean to you, Jake had solidified his impression in your mind over the years; curt, dry, and a little judgemental. His micro expressions that seemed to go unnoticed by everyone else spoke louder than words to you, and he never seemed like he wanted to interact with you at all. He sat on the opposite side of the room from you, avoided your group-pointed topics and questions, avoided being alone with you at all costs, and got out of every one on one conversation with you as fast as he could.

Oftentimes you felt like he was watching you, studying you so he could find something he didn’t like, so then he could be crude and unapologetic about it. His eyes always seemed to land on you as the nights dragged on, and the drunker he got, the more often he stared, but he never spoke. If he wasn’t so attractive, his actions may have been more off putting than curious to you, but even if you felt like he hated you, you definitely didn’t mind his attention being on you.

He was more gruff than Sam and Josh combined, and his resting expression was not the most inviting. He joked with his brothers, but not you directly. Although, whenever he said something to gain a laugh, his eyes always flickered to you, as if he was looking to see if you thought he was funny, too. He was a mystery, but not one you wanted to solve. Every interaction with him led you to believe he was not a fan of you, and every time you tried to analyze it, you only ever found yourself believing it ran even deeper than that.

Still, he was fucking hot, and you hated yourself for being so attracted to someone who couldn’t care less about you.

You followed behind Sam, your cheeks red as you bargained with your embarrassment over the situation. What did Sam actually say to Jake? Was it as innocent as he framed it, or did it go beyond the minimal information he gave you? You weren’t sure you wanted to know, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to speak to Jake at all. In your years of friendship with Sam and the hundreds of times you had been around him, he had never been nice, and you were fairly certain he wouldn’t start now.

You wanted to believe Sam’s explanation of Jake, that he was just a tough nut to crack and you had never been fully committed to knowing him, but it just didn’t seem to check out. You were sure by now, Jake would have shown some idea that he didn’t mind you, or at least that he didn’t hate you, but there was nothing.

Well, except for one small little thing, but it was so long ago that you were sure he’d long forgotten about it.

“Woah, sorry!” Jake exclaimed as the door swung itself open. He took a step back, recoiling from the scene as if he’d just walked in on something explicit and was trying to avoid the awkwardness.

“No, it’s okay.” You muttered, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath. This interaction was the last thing you wanted to experience in such a state, and you could only look forward to his standoffish nature worsening your already solemn state.

You had changed from your party clothes, the nice new jeans and shirt your sister had bought you for your birthday, which was the whole reason Sam threw you the damn party in the first place. You were in shorts and a t-shirt that hung just above your knees, your face tired and tear-stained as you made a quick move to wipe the dampness from your cheeks. “S’all good, Jake. You can have the bathroom.” You spoke again, a little clearer. The rasp of sadness in your tone was impossible to ignore, and even in his drunken state, he seemed to pick up on it.

You hated your birthday, and you hated that Sam insisted on throwing you a party for it. You wanted to leave, to go home after seeing everyone having such a great time while you were so miserable, but you were too drunk to drive and you would have felt terrible for abandoning Sam when he’d worked so hard to plan this all for you. The gathering was small, filled with people you loved dearly, and drinks were plentiful. Sam went all out with food, decorations, and dessert. You’d never had such an extravagant cake in your life, and you owed him everything for caring about you so much. You were so ashamed of your misery that you felt the need to hide in the bathroom while you cried, just so you didn’t hurt his feelings.

You weren’t sad because of the party, or even because of your birthday in itself. You were upset about the fact that no matter how hard you tried to have fun, something always happened that seemed to ruin the whole day, and this time was no different.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to read the situation. You barely looked up at him, feeling another wave of tears well in your eyes. He smelled so distinctly of whiskey, and his normal tough exterior slackened into something you could almost relate to relaxed.

“Yeah, fine.” You nodded, taking a step towards the doorway and expecting him to recoil when you neared him.

“Clearly not, sweetheart.” The pet name struck you as odd, the confusion growing even worse as he stepped in front of you to stop your attempt at escaping. “You’re crying, up here all alone on your birthday. Talk to me.” You finally looked up to meet his face, noticing your body flood with an unfamiliar feeling. There was a type of care in his face that you had never seen from him before, and it made your entire body raise with goosebumps.

“I… I’m alright, I guess.” You said, trying to find a way around confessing your sorrows to him.

“Can I come in?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, sure.” You breathed, nodding and stepping backwards out of his way. Once he was inside the room, he closed the door quietly, leaning against it as he casted his gaze back in your direction. Now that you were locked in a room with him, the smell of alcohol became all the more apparent, and it seemed to be mixed with a sweet scent of an unfamiliar cologne.

“What’s going on?” He asked, standing stagnant by the door as if he was fearful of coming any closer.

“It’s a long story, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. It’s over now.” You shrugged, raising your hand to your face to wipe your face clean of the sadness.

“Is it that guy you were with last time you were here?” He asked, hitting the nail straight on the head without even trying.

“Uh, yeah.” You nodded, surprised he even cared to notice you had company the last time you were around him. Jake had never been overly concerned with your presence, and you barely expected him to care enough to ask if you were alright. “Got in a fight before I came. Said he didn’t have time to come to my ‘stupid birthday party’ with my ‘stupid friends’.” You air quoted the phrases he used, sickened that you even let yourself spend time with someone who thought so little about the people you loved so dearly. “But he wasn’t too busy to party without me, and certainly didn’t mind locking lips with some other girl at the bar.” You explained, remembering the painful picture one of his friends sent through to you. You appreciated the fact that someone was willing to tell you about it, but it didn’t seem to make it hurt any less.

His lips pressed together tightly, the corners turned down into a frown as he digested the information you threw his way. For a second, he seemed as though he wanted to speak, but not long after that he silenced himself before he could get the words out. He swallowed thickly, toying with the ring on his middle finger as he tried his best to think of a response. Eventually, he took a deep breath and spoke words you never expected to hear from him.

“You are far too special to be caught up on someone like that, Y/N.” His tone was strong, leaving no room for doubt that he meant it. “I know it hurts right now, but you have to know that.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You said, your indifference for him melting away momentarily.

“Is it alright if I hug you?” He asked, carefully scanning your face. “Seems like you need it.”

“O-oh,” you breathed, shocked at his question. “Yeah, s’pose I do.” You let out a nervous chuckle. At that, all hesitation left his body and he stepped towards you. Carefully, he pulled you into his arms, his hold firm and the warmth of his body soothing. You let your head rest on his shoulder, trying to ignore the strangeness of the moment and enjoy the comfort. With your face buried in his button-up shirt, you finally had the chance to breathe in the cologne you had only previously caught a faint hint of. It was deep, woodsy and ambery, and it was unfortunately one of the most pleasant things you’d ever experienced.

You could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong as he held you close to him. One hand rested on the back of your head, an extra touch of warmth within his already strange actions. You had never been so close to Jake before, and for some strange reason, you never wanted to let go of him. From the minute he touched you, things seemed okay again, like nothing in the whole world could hurt you so long as he was right beside you.

Just when you felt yourself slipping out of the state of sadness, he pulled away. You found yourself mourning the loss of his touch, sad for a whole new reason as his body parted from yours. He didn’t completely abandon you, though. He let one hand rest on your arm as he used his other to wipe your tears away from your cheeks. With a soft smile, he spoke again.

“Don’t waste your tears on him, sweetheart. When it starts to hurt a little less, you should thank him for it, ‘cause it means someone as great as you won’t be stuck with someone like him.” He paused, ensuring you understood him before he continued. “Now, put a smile on that pretty face and come back downstairs. It’s your day, your friends are down there, and we want you to have a good night. Don’t let him win.”

You thought that maybe after such a sweet moment shared between the two of you, the dynamic might change, that he would warm up to you and a friendship would blossom. Thinking back on your hopefulness, you wanted to laugh in your own face. If anything, after the bathroom escapade, he grew even more distant. He stopped looking at you as often, avoiding your eyes when you looked his way and refusing to even let a chuckle slip when you spewed a joke. His already curt responses grew even shorter, and even less friendly. All of the affection he shared with you disappeared, and he acted as if it never happened at all.

You were ridiculous for expecting change, but disappointed still when you understood that he probably didn’t remember the interaction between you. He was drunk, and so were you, and it didn’t mean anything.

Still, no matter how hard you tried to believe it, it still fucking sucked.

You did everything in your power to get that side of him to surface again, but it only seemed to worsen his withdrawl. The nicer you were to him, the more he pulled away. So, eventually you stopped completely. You stopped going out of your way to build a relationship with him, because it was abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in it.

Funny thing is, when you started pulling away, he began to try.

A few weeks after you stopped talking, he went out of his way to ask you how you were. He lingered in rooms after everyone left, trying to remain inconspicuous as he waited for you to speak to him. His eyes landed on you more often than not, watching you carefully as you spoke to everyone else, waiting to see if you would laugh at his jokes. It was as if he missed you talking to him, even if he was the reason you distanced yourself in the first place.

He was so confusing, and you knew it was best to stay out of it. Even if you did think he was ridiculously attractive, he clearly had no clue how to express himself or any emotion whatsoever. The only thing you regularly saw from him was undesirable personality traits, indifference and annoyance most often, and anger at other times. You knew it wasn’t good for you, that you should stay away because you couldn’t get involved with someone so cold, and you did the best you could. Still, you would be the first to volunteer to kiss that damned scowl off his face, and happy to let him take his anger out on you.

The fact that Sam ever thought the two of you would work was absolutely blasphemous, but if Sam wanted you to try, you would at least give it another shot. Even if it was half-assed, you could still say you gave it your all, and he’d probably believe you.

Sam took one of the two available seats on the couches, far away from you and next to Josh. You felt a stab of pain in your chest as you realized he did so for a specific reason. The only seat left in the room was next to Jake, and as you began to approach, you feared he might get up and walk away as soon as your ass touched the cushion. Keeping your body rigid, you stepped over Danny’s long legs, extended outwards as he leaned back in the couch. You carefully stood between the two, letting the strap of your bag fall from your shoulder and it landed in front of you on the floor. As you sat down, you tucked the bag neatly behind your legs and against the frame of the couch. You let out a small breath of relief, noticing Jake didn’t change his stature at all as you took a seat.

‘Step one: complete.’ You thought to yourself, sipping at your drink to calm your nerves.

How ridiculous it seemed to consider sitting next to Jake a victory. The irony only grew as you remembered that Sam thought the two of you would make a good couple.

Jake had an acoustic guitar sat in his lap, tentatively plucking at the strings as he sat on the very edge of the cushion. You couldn’t help but stare, finding his face devoid of any negative emotion almost alluring. He was so pretty when he focused, the way his hair hung in his face and his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. You strained to hear the light sounds coming from the strings, trying your best to ignore the booming music upstairs in hopes to recognize the tune he was playing. You watched as the tips of his fingers danced over the fretboard, delicate and calculated in every move they made.

Then, the soft hum stopped and his finger stretched across the fretboard to stop any lingering resonance. Your eyes flickered from his hand to his face, seeing that he was already looking at you. Your cheeks burned red as you understood he noticed your staring, and you swallowed back an awkward laugh.

“Hey, Jake.” You forced the greeting through your teeth, flashing a smile in his direction in hopes that the sweetness would deter his usual grumpiness with you.

“Hi.” He responded, his eyes trailing down to the solo cup in your hand. His greeting was short, but you counted it as a victory. Some nights, he never bothered to reciprocate at all, shooting you a pained look instead. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to do or what to say. It was uncomfortable, but you forced the negative thoughts from your head and tried your best to think of a conversation starter. When it was clear he would not be the one to initiate, you spoke again.

“What song was that?”

“Who’ll Stop The Rain.” He replied, his stony expression remaining strong as he looked in your direction.

“CCR,” you nodded, embarrassed you couldn’t pick out the tune from memory. “My dad was a big fan of John Fogerty. Used to put us to sleep with the recordings from Royal Albert Hall.”

“Yeah, pretty good stuff.” Jake nodded, slow and stiff as if he would rather be anywhere other than with you. You took in a long breath through your nose, hoping that you could ease the painful tension between the two of you, but knowing it wouldn’t never happen unless he was willing to try, too.

“Yeah, absolutely.” You nodded too, taking a long sip from your cup.

“What’s your favourite song from them?” He asked, the words almost sounding strained as he asked the question. You fought back an eye roll, thinking it was absolutely ridiculous that he was troubled just to speak to you.

“Green River.” You answered, trying to be more enthusiastic than he was. You were happy he asked the question at all, considering it was probably the first thing he’d ever asked in attempt to get to know you, but his reluctance still stung.

“I like that one, too.” He said, his tone gruff but more friendly than it had ever been (save for the off night in the bathroom), even if the classification was a stretch. Then, he turned his head back towards the guitar, cutting the conversation short. You couldn’t help but feel a dissatisfaction with his actions, wondering why he couldn’t even pretend to enjoy a conversation with you, but you didn’t let it linger for too long.

You let out a sigh, turning your head to the other side of you, seeing Daniel’s smiling face. It was refreshing, and it was a relief to see his expression did not fade as soon as he looked your way. His arm was slung over the back of the couch behind you, his ankles crossed and a beer bottle clutched tightly in his hand. You figured he was an easier target, and a much more enjoyable way to spend your time.

“Hello, Daniel.” You gave him a warm smile as you spoke.

“Was wondering when you’d get here, K.O.” He said, flashing you a toothy smile to match your own.

“What did I tell you guys about calling me that!” You scolded, your tone light and your eyes shining with joy to tell him you didn’t really care all that much.

“If the shoe fits.” He shrugged, chuckling as he took a sip from his bottle. “What have you been up to? Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I was away for a little while for work, actually.” You said, knowing you couldn’t get too much into it.

“You were away? That’s never good to hear.” He said, a slight grimace on his face. He was right; in social work, time spent away from your office usually meant something bad.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t anything major. They have a shortage of people a few towns over, so I volunteered to fill in for a little while until they could hire someone. I handled a few cases, but it was mostly just to do some paperwork so they didn’t get overwhelmed. I got back a few days ago.”

“You’re a saint for doing a job like that, you know.” He said, his words genuine and prompting a smile on your lips.

“It’s not the easiest job, but I like it.” You explained. “Someone has to stick up for the kids, you know? If their own parents aren’t doing it… then someone has to.”

You could not see it, but Jake’s head was turned as he sat behind you, his ear facing you so he could hear the words you were saying.

“You must be pretty good at it, too. I remember when Sam and I stopped by your office, it was plastered with drawings and colouring pages. Do you keep everything they give to you?”

“Yeah, I do.” You looked down at your hands as a sheepish smile crossed your face. “They always get so excited when they see it up on the walls, so it makes it worth it. Besides, brightens up my day when I see it, too.” You explained, knowing that you had never really thought twice about it; everything any of your clients gifted you was important to you and deserved a spot up on your bulletin board.

Alongside from Sam, your work was the most important thing to you. It was a part of you, and the only reason you and Sam got along so well is because he understood that. Lots of plans were cancelled or rescheduled at the drop of a dime, but he never cared and never made you feel bad about it. Sometimes, you were up at four in the morning, running out the door to the hospital in the early stages of your friendship, but it never deterred him from spending time with you. When you moved to a private company, things grew a little more relaxed and you had a lot more scheduled appointments rather than emergency appointments, but Sam would have stuck around no matter your situation.

“I mean, today someone gave me a yo-yo.” You said, a grin lighting up your face. “I’ve always wanted an excuse to learn those stupid tricks everyone knew how to do in middle school, and now I can.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see that.” Danny let out a laugh, his shoulders shaking and his eyes crinkled with joy just at the thought of it.

“So what about you? What have you been up to?” You asked, growing tired of talking about you and eager to hear what he’d been up to.

“The same old, really. I went home and visited my family for a few days, so that was nice.” He said, knocking back the last of his drink and grabbing another from the box by his feet.

“That is nice!” You exclaimed, a warm smile encasing your lips. “I know you don’t get to see them all that often, so it must have been really good to go home.”

“It was,” he agreed, nodding at the thought.

“How’s your sister doing? I know she was stressed out about the last semester of school the last time we talked.”

“Good! She passed with no problem, worried about nothing as per usual.” He responded, almost wowed by how much attention you paid to him when he spoke.

“And that girl you were talking to… Sarah?” You asked, nervous you might have gotten the name wrong. He gave a nod, reassuring you that you got it right. “How’s that going?”

“Good! She couldn’t make it tonight, but I think it’s headed somewhere. Hopefully, at least.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was less important to him than it was.

“I’m sure it will. I’m happy for you.” You smiled. Just as he was about to respond, Sam shouted his name from across the table, pulling him in a completely different direction. You didn’t pay much mind to it, settling comfortably back in your seat as Sam resumed an earlier conversation with the boy beside you.

You settled back into your seat, finding yourself content without feeling the need to be caught in conversation. You sipped at your drink, noticing your cheeks begin to turn rosy as the tipsiness started to set in. Your skin was warm, your mind swimming with thoughts that pertained to nothing important. You tucked your foot underneath your knee, relaxing into the position as Sam gave you a reassuring smile across the table. You gave him a small wave in return, finding the mixed drink in your cup taste better the longer you worked at it.

Some time passed, but nothing too interesting ensued. No further words were shared between you and Jake, but you did occasionally find yourself talking across the table with Sam, and a few times you were leaned over close to Danny to hear him over the chattering crowd and loud music. Then, something incredibly familiar reached your ears, the sound soothing as it drifted from the guitar in Jake’s lap and over towards you. The twang was different, a little more calm as he played on the acoustic, but it was still just as good.

Green River.

You turned your head towards him, smiling as you watched his fingers pluck the strings. You bit your tongue, tempted to sing along but knowing it likely wouldn’t help the lingering tension between you and the boy. Your gaze flickered to his face, curious to see his expression as he played the song you very clearly expressed your enjoyment of. To your surprise, he was looking at you, and the usual scowl on his face had softened into an almost smile.

He wanted to know if you liked it, almost excited at the prospect of impressing you with the song.

Perhaps Sam was right, and you hadn’t tried hard enough to get to know him. You weren’t committed enough to getting through the tough exterior, because in that moment, you saw a tiny glimpse of the Jake you saw that night in the bathroom. His eyes were warm, glimmering with curiousity as he continued to strum the tune. Maybe he wasn’t so against knowing you, but rather needed some common ground so he could get his footing.

No matter the reasoning, you could go along with it, because without the cold undertones in his expression, he was a million times more attractive than he’d ever been before. The liquor in your cup was strong, definitely encouraging your thoughts about his pretty face, but as he played a song you remembered from the happiest days of your childhood, it struck something within you that he’d never touched before.

“Sing it.” Jake encouraged, his voice just loud enough for you to hear as he played the intro a second time through. You thought you misheard him, unable to believe he was really initiating such a fun moment that involved both of you, together. Even as you tried to discredit it, his eyes told you otherwise, imploring you to do as he asked.

“Well, take me back down where cool water flow,” you began, knowing your intoxication had everything to do with your courage. You worried that he would change his mind, or regret asking you to do so, but as you finished he played the little riff that followed, a genuine smile beginning to blossom on his lips.

“Let me remember things I love, Lord

Stoppin' at the log where catfish bite

Walkin' along the river road at night

Barefoot girls dancin' in the moonlight.” You sang the verse, growing more comfortable when Sam joined in along the way. By the time you finished the last line, Danny was leaned in close behind you, also belting the lyrics alongside you.

Then, the most shocking part of it all came about when Jake led you back into the second verse. He joined in, happily singing along with the three of you as if it were a completely normal thing for him to do.

“Fuck yeah, Jake!” You exclaimed, seeing his eyes brighten at your drunken cheer. For a single moment, things felt normal. They felt right, with you cheering him on and him trying not to laugh at your antics, like it was meant to be that way all along.

Maybe Sam was right, and the two of you could click well, even after all the time spent ignoring each other.

He led himself into a small guitar solo, seemingly trying to show off as he slammed the pick down on the strings. You clapped along, a blinding smile lighting up your face as you watched him do what he loved most. You couldn’t help but admire how stunning he looked, his pink lips slightly damp from his tongue running over them while he focused. The blush of his cheeks under the lowlight, and his dark lashes casting the tiniest of shadows under his eyes. He was beautiful, and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from him.

You were so immersed in his enigmatic nature that you failed to sing along with the group when the third verse rounded. Stunned and slightly nervous that someone had caught you amidst the impromptu staring contest, you cleared your throat and joined in with the singing, only slightly less enthusiastic. When the song finished, you were breathless and in a mess of jumbled thoughts, but it had nothing to do with the singing you were doing. Before Jake could say anything to you, you downed the last of your drink, reaching into your bag to refill the cup. You knew you would need the courage, especially now that the relationship between you seemed to hit a pivotal moment.

When you straightened back up in your seat, you sipped from the rim of the cup to lower your chances of spilling it all over yourself. Your eyes flickered to the man beside you, but to your dismay, he wasn’t looking at you at all. The smile faded from your lips as you quickly tried to cover up your growing disappointment, wondering if you were an idiot for thinking the two of you might be more comfortable speaking. You waited for a moment, just to see if he would initiate something, but you were met with nothing once again.

You were an idiot, and for more reason than just that. You were ridiculous for believing that he would be interested with you, in all of his blinding beauty and amidst the rockstar lifestyle. He had girls falling at his feet, prettier and with more to offer than you had. You were breaking your own heart by entertaining the feeble idea Sam planted in your mind, and you needed to realize the truth of the matter.

Still, a small fizzle of hope existed within your chest, and you thought you would give it one last shot.

“That was really good, Jake. Thank you for playing it for me.” You said, keeping your tone sweet and the look in your eyes warm despite the blossoming uncertainty in your stomach.

“What? I didn’t play it for you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth at the speed of light, defensive and with little thought put into them. As if he saw the breaking of your heart before his own eyes, he softened slightly, realizing that his words were too harsh, even for his normal brooding self. “I played it for myself, too. I love that song.” He added, hoping that it would lessen the blow. You could tell he only said it to feel like less of an asshole, and it only worsened your already bruised feelings.

You could feel an unfamiliar feeling rising in your chest, one that craved conflict. You thought that if you handed his rudeness back to him, he’d learn his lesson and realize how terrible he’d been to you over the years of knowing him. You wanted a fight, to figure out the real reason behind his dislike for your company, and you needed it now. If he hated you, you wanted him to come clean and say it. You were sick of trying to start a friendship with someone who only ever made you feel like shit about it.

Then, before the accusations could leave your lips, he spoke again, but you would have preferred him not to say anything at all.

“Heard it’s supposed to be really nice out, tomorrow.” He forced the weather forecast through his teeth, rubbing salt into an already lethal wound.

“Perfect,” your lips pulled together tightly, forcing some semblance of a smile as you nodded your head. “You know, we don’t have to talk about the weather every fucking time we speak, Jake.” He seemed to physically recoil from your nasty tone, seemingly never expecting something even slightly vicious to leave your tongue.

“Okay, what else would you like to talk about, Y/N?” He asked, a hint of condescension in his words. You rolled your eyes, long past furious with his blatant rejection of your presence.

“Maybe one of the fifteen other topics I’ve tried to talk about with you?” You offered the alternative like it never crossed his mind at all. “You know what? Nevermind. Doesn’t matter.” You shook your head, understanding you were preparing to fight a losing battle. When it came to anything negative, Jake was always going to come out on top.

“What, did Little Miss Sunshine finally hit her breaking point? Is this the first time you’ve ever been angry, sweetheart? ‘Cause it wouldn’t fuckin’ surprise me.”

“Fuck off, Jake.” You huffed, leaning forward and grabbing your bag from between your legs. “Like I said, fucking forget about it.”

Just as you did so, Danny leaned towards you in an instinctive reaction to someone playfully pushing him by the arm of the couch. His shoulder collided with your back, causing you to lurch towards Jake and at the same time, your full solo cup to slip from your fingers. As you tried to recover from the strong (and irritatingly painful) collision between your back and Danny’s shoulder, you barely noticed the liquid that had spilled from your hands onto the couch, and unluckily, Jake’s leg.

Before you could process all that happened in such a short time, you heard Danny’s profuse apologies from over your shoulder, but not well over the boom of Jake’s voice.

“Christ, Y/N!” He exclaimed, raising the guitar from his lap as he made a move to stand. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Watch what you’re fucking doing, next time!”

His words, equal to a million stabs in the chest, seemed to snap that little rational part of your brain you tried to desperately hold on to when in his company. Instead of an angry outburst, you felt tears well in your eyes, finally fed up with his irrationally irate attitude towards you. You tried to muster an ‘I’m sorry’, but every time the words began to make their way through your throat, your muscles constricted around them. Instead, you grabbed your things, in a hurry to get out of there and never come back. Before you were on your feet, tears spilled over on your cheeks, and your face felt like it was on fire. Your heart was thumping so fast and hard you could feel it in every part of your body, and your throat ached to cry out.

Why didn’t he like you?

What did you do to deserve such miserable treatment?

Why couldn’t he just pretend to tolerate you, instead of making it blatantly obvious to everyone how much he hated you?

You clutched your empty cup and your bag tightly to your chest as you stepped over Danny’s legs, your vision blurred with tears you refused to let Jake see as you rushed away from the group. By the time you made it to the stairs, you knew you would be alright, so long as you didn’t come face to face with him again. You clambered to the top of the stairwell, pushing through bodies in search of the front door. You were desperate for air, just for a breath of relief to help you forget about his venomous tone. When your fingers clasped around the doorknob, you instantly felt better. You pulled it open, stepping foot into the yard and away from the chaos.

The porch was near vacant aside from the couple engaging in a handsy makeout session a few feet away, but not even they seemed to notice you. You pulled the skirt of your dress down as you stepped forward, crouching down until your ass hit the wooden step. You released your hold on the short dress, stretching your legs out as you adjusted to a more comfortable position on the stair. You let your hand run through your hair, your fingers catching on knots as you combed through the mess of loose curls. You let out a shaky sigh, wiping the tears away from your cheeks as you let your eyes flutter closed.

You wouldn’t let him get the best of you, even though it was so easy for him to do it. You were better than his short fuse and lack of regard for your feelings, and you wouldn’t feed into the fire he created. As much as you wanted to yell, to call him out on his ridiculous behavior, it wasn’t you. You weren’t angry; you were bubbly, happy and outgoing, and you adored making new friends. You were a social worker who loved children because of their unusual glee despite being in horrible situations. You loved it so much, because that’s who you were. You loved being happy, the light shining in darkness even when you should be miserable and sad. You liked being that beacon of light for others, and you made it a point to remember small details so nobody ever felt forgotten.

You were kind hearted and free spirited, and you loved to love. You wouldn’t let him take that away from you, in all of his gruff grumpiness and dark brooding eyes. You were human, and everyone likes to be liked, but you didn’t care anymore. If he wanted to dislike you, that was fine, because you loved being you and you didn’t care to change for anyone. If he didn’t like your behavior, your desperation to see the best in everything and your constantly joyus nature, he was the one losing, not you. You wouldn’t bend your own boundaries to make someone like him happy.

The door creaking open behind you pulled you from your thoughts, making you peek over your shoulder to investigate the disturbance. You were met with a sight for sore eyes, the pure chaos of the moment putting a smile on your face despite your own internal struggles. Sam was stumbling towards you, his eyes heavy and glossy as he clutched a beer bottle tight in his hand. He was positively hammered, and you could tell with every step he took.

His stare landed on you, like he was a predator in search of prey. His hand holding the bottle raised, his index finger straightening and pointed in your direction. “Was looking for you, knockout. You’re fast.”

“You’re drunk, Sam.”

“Pshh,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He took a few unsteady steps towards you, placing his hand against the railing to steady himself as he sat down beside you.

“I love you, you know.” You smiled, hugging your knees to your chest as you rested your chin atop of them.

“I love you, Y/N.” He slurred, the smell of alcohol radiating from him. In some strange way, drunken Sam had always secretly been your favorite, mostly because of his unapologetic nature when it came to the tellings of his heart. “You’re the best friend ever, you know. Like the best. Couldn’t imagine life without you.” He rambled, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. “You’re always so sweet and kind, and you make the best cookies, and you come to my stupid parties and talk to my stupid brother, even when you don’t want to. There’s nothing wrong with you, Princess. Don’t listen to him, ‘cause he’s stupid.” He reiterated the same sentiment, causing a small giggle to fall from your lips.

“F’course I show up to your parties, Sammy.” You whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. He smelled familiar, giving you a sense of home you couldn’t find anywhere else. “Wouldn’t imagine life any other way.”

“And everyone loves you, Y/N. Josh, and Danny, and even Jake. ‘Specially Jake.” He hiccuped, smiling at the thought. The apples of his rosy cheeks were so soft in the moonlight, the sight heartwarming and forcing a smile onto your cheeks, too.

“No, I don’t think he does, Sammy boy, and that’s okay.” You whispered, gazing up at the stars and living in the sweetness of this moment rather than the bitterness of the one you shared with Jake.

“No, don’t think you get it, Princess.” He chuckled, his head toppling over onto yours as he heaved a large breath. He was caught in a nasty bout of hiccups, and his movements were all sloppy and loose. You were beginning to realize he was much more intoxicated than even you perceived him to be, and you were going to have to get him inside and to bed soon. “I can’t tell you, cause he wouldn’t like that, but he likes you, Y/N, wholeee hell of a lot.” He put the extra emphasis on the words to ensure you took him seriously. You laughed at his words, his oxymoronic statement, and the tone in which he said it.

“Sure, Sam.” You chuckled, pulling away from him slightly. You immediately missed the comfort of his touch, but you knew it was for the best. “Why don’t we get you upstairs, honey? Maybe a glass of water?”

“You think?” He asked, squinting at the porch light as he turned to look at you. His expression was challenging, but you both knew you’d win the fight.

“I know, Sam.” You gave him a soft smile. “Come with me?”

“Okay.” He huffed, nodding in agreement. “You’re staying tonight, right? Don’t want you… driving home…” there was a lull in his tone, and you noticed his eyes drooping lower the longer he spoke. “Jake’s an idiot, want you to stay, even if you’re mad at him… please?”

“Of course I’ll stay, love.” You promised, rising to your feet after ensuring you had a firm grip on his arm. “Come on, stand up for me.” You urged, pulling him only slightly from his sitting position.

“Kay,” he let out a shallow sigh, helping you only slightly as you pulled him to his feet. As soon as he was standing, he stumbled forward into you, and you wrapped your arms around him to keep him upright.

“Easy, honey.” You hummed, only slightly intimidated under his body weight.

‘You’ve got this. Get him upstairs and into bed. You can do it.’ You repeated to yourself, carefully moving your grip so you had one arm securely around his torso.

“Come on, Sammy. Help me out here.” You pleaded, taking a step towards the door. He seemed to be growing more tired by the second, and you worried that you would not be able to support his weight if he grew any more lax in your arms. He stumbled forward, uttering nonsense about his love for you as you desperately tried to get him to the door. You figured if you at least got him inside, someone would be around to help you out with the rest.

You felt your legs quivering under his and your own weight, but you managed a few more steps forward until you were just shy of reaching the doorknob. As you ushered him forward, you reached a shaky hand out for the door, only to find someone else already opening it for you. You looked upwards, relief flooding your features until your gaze landed on the body in the doorway.

“Let me help.” Jake grumbled, stepping forward to join the two of you.

“It’s fine, Jacob. I’ve got it.” You snapped, taking another step forward.

“Clearly not, sweetheart. Quit being so fucking stubborn.” He argued, taking post at Sam’s other side as he guided his arm over his shoulder.

“Jake!” Sam exclaimed, a lazy smile crossing his face as he recognized his brother's familiar face. “Y/N, this is my idiot brother Jake. Have you met before?” Sam looked in your direction, sending you a lazy smile and a sloppy wink. You stifled a giggle as you tightened your hold around him.

“Hey, brother. Let’s get you to bed.” He chuckled, anchoring his own arm around Sam’s back alongside yours.

Deciding it was for the best, you let Jake help you with the daunting task. Together, the journey was much less treacherous, and you had him upstairs in no time. In Sam’s bedroom, you and Jake eased your hold on him as he sat down in his bed, his eyes threatening closed as he slumped down onto the mattress.

“I’ve got it from here, thanks.” You snipped, brushing past Jake to grab a trash can, just in case Sam started to feel sick.

“He’s my brother, Y/N. I can take care of him.” He shot back, fixing the pillows so Sam could lay down.

“We’ll he’s my best friend, and I’m not fucking leaving him.” You huffed, helping Sam lay down on his side so he would not fall asleep on his back.

“Guess you’ll just have to deal with it, then, cause I’m staying too.” He rolled his eyes, plopping down on an armchair in the corner of the room.

“Great.” You muttered, fixing the blankets as Sam fought with the buttons on his shirt. “You okay, honey? I can help.” You offered, noticing his particularly annoyed expression as he couldn’t complete the task he’d set out to do. “Can you get him some water, Jacob?” You asked, a little more curt than you intended, but neglecting to feel remorseful about it.

“Why don’t you go, and I’ll get him out of his shirt?” Jake offered, malice fleeing him temporarily in hopes the arrangement might be more comfortable for you.

“Fine.” You sighed, stepping away from the bed and back into the hallway. A quick trip downstairs and one bottle of water later, you were back at Sam’s bedside, trying to get him to sip away at a hydrating alternative to the beer he was drinking all night.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam relaxed against the mattress and melted into the pillows. Carefully, you reached out and brushed his hair from his face, gathering it in your hands as you slipped an elastic around it from your wrist. You couldn’t help but smile as he began to softly snore, a sure sign he was out for the night.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Jake said, his tone strong and startling you as you pulled your eyes away from Sam.

“For what?”

“For caring so much about him.” He shrugged, showing you a glimpse of himself as he professed his gratitude. “He’s my brother. Means a lot to me that you love him so much.”

“Don’t need to thank me for it.” You shrugged. “Hard not to. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” The two of you fell into a silence for a moment, the tension in the air thick and uncomfortable. You wondered if he would apologize, rectify the harsh words he’d thrown your way, or if maybe tonight would be the night he finally confessed how much he hated you. Or, maybe it was neither of those things, and the night would take the worst turn of all; the two of you sitting there, caring for a drunken Sam in awkward silence and sharing occasional words. Perhaps you could even talk about the weather.

“So when are you two gonna tie the knot?” Jake asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you carefully.

“What?” You asked, looking over at him with confusion written all over.

“Everybody’s thinking it. We’re just waiting for you to get on with it.” He said, his gaze never leaving your face, almost as if he was challenging you.

“I don’t like Sam like that, Jake. He doesn’t feel that way about me, either.” You were firm with your response, ensuring he understood that.

“Right.” He whispered, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch. Your eyebrows furrowed, curious about his words but unsure if you even cared enough to ask. You turned back to Sam, running a gentle hand over his arm as he slept soundly. As you did so, you could feel Jake’s eyes burning into you, making you shift uncomfortably in your position. Eventually, it became too much to ignore, and your head turned towards him again.

“What is your problem?” You asked, stronger than you intended.

“Nothing,” he defended himself, his lips turned down into a frown. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

“Why would you want to?” You rolled your eyes, looking away from his face. You found it much harder to stay angry with him when you couldn’t stop thinking about how attractive he was. He opted not to respond to the topic at hand, but instead moved back to a previous one.

“Why don’t you and Sam get together?”

“Jesus, what does it matter?” You asked, answering his questions with more. You weren’t keen on discussing your romantic relationships with a man who barely cared enough to notice your presence in a room, and you definitely weren’t willing to discuss your relationship with Sam with him.

“You wanted me to talk, so I’m talking!” He argued, keeping his voice hushed so he would not wake his brother.

“Yeah, I wanted you to talk three years ago, Jake.” You laughed, shaking your head as you did so, but the situation was not funny to you. You couldn’t believe him, and he continually managed to surprise you with his offputting comments and his vague remarks. “I wanted to know you, but you’ve made enough of an impression already, and that ship has sailed.”

“I’m talking now, Y/N.” He tried again, his voice softer but still seemed standoffish.

“I don’t want you to, Jake.” You clarified, realizing you’d rather sit in silence or talk about the sunny skies, now. “I don’t care. I used to get upset because all you wanted to talk about was the weather, but I get that it is the only thing we have in common.” You stood, knowing you needed to take a step away from the situation before you exploded.

He was so good at getting under your skin, so different and so irritating. He ignored every one of your attempts at getting to know him, and you were over it. He didn’t get to be an asshole for so long and then suddenly change his mind about it, like he got to call the shots. The ball was in your court, and you weren’t willing to give him the time of day anymore.

“Wait,” he pleaded, holding his hand out to stop you from walking out on him. Ignoring his plea, you pushed past him, stepping towards the door with no intent on stopping. “Y/N, please.” He stood, reaching out to grab your arm so you could not leave.

“What, Jake?” You snapped, turning on your heel to face him. “Unless you’re going to tell me what your issue is, I have no interest in talking to you about anything.” There was a fire in his eyes unfamiliar to you, so different than the pained, distant expression he often adorned when looking in your direction.

“My issue is you!” He said, never dropping his hold on your wrist. It wasn’t tight, far from painful, but it was exhilarating. His skin on yours felt fantastic, even if he was an asshole.

“See? Was it that hard to finally fucking say it?” You fumed. “Just say you hate me, Jake. It’ll be so much easier for both of us!”

“It is hard, because I don’t hate you!” He confessed, taking you by complete surprise. “I couldn’t hate you, ever. Trust me when I say, I’ve fucking tried!”

“You don’t?” You asked, your knitting together in confusion. “Then what is your issue with me?”

“I don’t have an issue with you, Y/N. It’s me. It’s my problem.”

“Tell me Jake, please. I’ve spent so long wondering what I did to make you not like me, and I need to know.” You pleaded, your anger dissipating as you realized you finally might get an answer to the one question that constantly plagued you.

“Can we… Can we go somewhere else? Please?” Jake sighed, looking over his shoulder at his sleeping brother.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, stepping backwards and out of the room. He stayed close to you, ensuring Sam was alright before he closed the door behind him.

You led him down the hallway, turning into the guest bedroom that had become your very own. You stepped inside first, staying near the door as he walked in behind you. He knocked the door shut as he passed it, the music still booming downstairs and the crowd still plentiful despite the night changing into the early morning hours. You turned to face the boy, finding him already looking at you. His gaze was uncomfortable, especially knowing that there was so much unsaid between the two of you.

“So, what is it, Jake?” You asked, your arms loosely crossed over your chest as you tried to hide yourself under his stare. Now that the two of you were alone, your skimpy dress felt all the smaller, and you were self conscious knowing his eyes were drinking in every detail.

“I’ll tell you, but I need you to answer me first. Is there anything going on between you and Sam?” He asked, his palms pressed together and his fingers extended outwards, pointing towards you as he spoke.

“No, Jake. Not that it’s your business, but Sam and I are just friends; it’s always been that way, and it always will be.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You stressed the point. “Why does this have anything to do with you not liking me?”

“It has everything to do with it, because I do like you!” He exploded, the sudden shift taking you by surprise. You recoiled at the strength of his words, watching him in shock for a moment.

“What are you angry about?” You asked, unable to piece together his erratic behaviour. His head fell back on his shoulders, a groan leaving his lips as he struggled to speak. It seemed as if his thoughts were plaguing him and he wanted to do anything other than confess them.

“I do like you, sunshine, and a lot more than you think.” He explained, drawing in a long breath and stepping towards you. “I like you too much, and I am a fucking idiot for treating you so badly, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Talk to me, Jake. Tell me what’s wrong, and we can work it out, together.” You pleaded, a shred of sympathy for the man taking hold despite all of your anger.

“See? That’s why, because after three years of me being a dick, you’re still trying to be nice to me!” He exclaimed, appalled at your concern and constant attempts to help fix things. “You should be yelling, or calling me names, or walking away, but you’re not.” He stressed the fact, hoping you understood what he meant.

“Is that what you want me to do?” You asked, confused by his response.

“No, I don’t want—“ he cut himself off, realizing how harsh and condescending the words sounded. “I love you, Y/N, and that’s why I can’t fucking talk to you, because I know I shouldn’t!” You were stunned, taken back by his bold confession and unsure how to respond to it. Your eyes widened, your lips parted as you breathed in his bare honesty hanging in the air. “I’ve spent three years falling for you, and it fucking kills me, but I can’t get you out of my head. Your perfect smile, and that cute little laugh, and the fact you care about everyone and everything, no matter what. You take care of all of us, all of the time. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you are way out of my league.”

You were so shocked at his confession that you forgot to breathe for a moment, and the fact he thought you were out of his league was laughable. You were in such a state that you didn’t think your actions through before responding, and an actual laugh fell from your lips. As soon as the sound reached your ears, your hand instinctively raised and clamped over your mouth, horrified that you made the sound in the first place. A flash of hurt crossed his face, the small expression telling you he regretted speaking at all. The laugh cut deep, but he was misunderstanding the intent behind it.

“You know what? Never mind. Pretend I never said anything at all.” He muttered, stepping towards the door.

“No, Jake.” You stepped forward, this time to stop him from leaving. “I’m not laughing at you.” You promised, your cool hand landing on his noticeably warm biceps. The soft fabric of his shirt felt good on your fingers, and an unfamiliar feeling blossomed in the pit of your stomach. “It’s just… I spent so long thinking you hated me. It’s a lot to take in. You have to understand that.” His eyes flickered back to you, then down to your hand on his arm. There was no longer any malice in his face, the softness of his features all the more alluring now that his defences were down. “Just… work with me, please?”

“Okay.” He whispered, turning back towards you slowly.

“I just… I think that you believing I’m out of your league is funny, because it couldn’t be further from the truth.” You explained, your voice quiet. The two of you were closer than you’d ever been, the heat of his body radiating from him. The sweet, intoxicating smell of his cologne you remembered so fondly from the night in the bathroom hit you with full force, skewing every one of your morals the longer you breathed it in. The drunken, desperate part of you was almost willing to forgo any tough conversation and have your way with him then and there, but you managed to stave off the urge for a little longer. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why would I, Y/N?” He asked, frustrated by the thought, but much more calm now that he understood your feelings a bit better. “Why would I try to pursue you, when we both know that I’m no good for you?”

“No good for me?” You asked, inching closer to him in hopes you wouldn’t have to give up the contact with him.

“Yeah,” he nearly scoffed the word. “No good for you. Think about it, sweetheart. You are a ray of sunshine, all of the time. You light up a room wherever you go, and everyone falls in love with you without even trying. You’re a social worker, for gods sake. You’re so good that you help people for a living, with no benefit to yourself. You remember the small details, you never make anyone feel left out or forgotten. You’re good, and I’m not. I treated you like shit for three years because I couldn’t let myself drag you down with me. I didn’t want to do that to you, but I had to.”

“What are you talking about, Jake? You wouldn’t be dragging me down at all.” You wished he would hear how ridiculous his words sounded, but he was stubborn, and you knew that for a fact.

“I’m miserable. I’m mean, and I’m snarky when I don’t even want to be. I’ve got a temper, and I say things I shouldn’t. You don’t deserve someone like that. You deserve someone who’s just as happy as you are, who puts out just as much good in the world. You’re waking up at three in the morning to go to the hospital and help out a family in need, and I’m just passing out drunk on someone’s couch. You help people, and I hurt people, even when I don’t want to. You don’t deserve that, Y/N, and I can’t do that to you. I bit my tongue because I wanted you to fall in love with someone who could make you happy.” He explained, his drunken ramblings tugging at your heartstrings.

“Jake,” you whispered, your hand tightening on his arm to pull his attention towards you. Now that he started, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking. All that he held back for so long was finally surfacing, and it didn’t seem to want to slow.

“I wanted you to fall in love with Sam, because you two are great for each other. It would have sucked, but I know that you deserve someone who can love you like that. I hate myself for pushing you so far away, but I had to, for you. I didn’t want you to get involved with me, because you are too bright and shiny, and I’m a little bit broken. I don’t know how to love, I’m not good at it, and you should be with someone who can give you the world.”

“Hey.” You said, firm as you dropped your hold on his arm. You reached up, taking his cheeks between your hands and forcing him to look at you. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to choose who is good for me and who isn’t, Jacob.” You said, swallowing hard as his brown eyes seemed to be staring into your soul. “You’re not broken, and you’re not bad, Jake. I’ve seen it before, and I’m seeing it right now. You have a big heart, and you care so much, even if you aren’t the best at showing it.” You breathed, looking over his face. Your heart was beating fast, your chest a mess of emotions you’d never quite felt before in your life. You were angry, confused, but also incredibly happy to finally hear the truth coming from his lips. You were oddly attracted to him in the moment, and you finally felt like the two of you were on the same page.

“I don’t like Sam that way, because I’m not looking for someone bright and shiny. I’m looking for someone who makes me feel something, and you do, and you always have. Why do you think I’m still trying so hard? After this long, I still want to be around you, and I still want to talk to you. I like being bright and shiny, and I like helping people. That’s who I am, and I can’t change that, but there’s nothing wrong with you, Jake. You said you’re ‘bad’, but how could you be? You spent three years putting me before you, because you didn’t want to hurt me.” You explained, begging for him to see reason. “What you just said to me, about how you feel… Jake, nobody’s ever said anything like that before. Nobody’s ever cared like that before.”

“I do care, and I definitely don’t hate you. I had to push you away, because every time I see you, I want to tell you how badly I need you. I tried so hard to get over you, but I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” At that, his hands raised to your hips, drawing you closer to him as he spoke.

“I’m not asking you to, Jake.” You said, your head spinning from the feeling of his hands on you. It felt so good, so unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Your hands were still on his cheeks, his face unbearably close to your own. After hearing everything he had to say, it made sense. All of the staring, his avoidance of being alone with you, the sweet moment in the bathroom. “I like you, in all of your grumpiness. I think you’re funny, and smart, and you are incredibly talented. I like that you play songs for me on the guitar, even if you don’t want to admit it, and I love that you love me so selflessly. You don’t get to decide if you’re no good for me, and you don’t get to force me to fall in love with someone else, because right now, I’m quite interested in knowing what it’s like to love you.”

“You can’t just say stuff like that, sweetheart.” He warned, his tone gravelly as his heart began to beat solely for you, for the moment you were sharing.

“I’m not just saying it. I mean it. After all this time, I’m still here, listening to everything you have to say.”

“I did play that song for you. I wanted to see you smile.” He confessed, almost pained at how badly he needed to see the joy written over your face. “I wanted to hear you sing it. I wanted you to sit next to me. I want it all, Y/N, all of the god damn time. I want you, but I don’t know how to do it right.”

“We can work on that part, because I want you too, Jake. I can’t walk away from you after you said all of that, because I don’t think I’ll every find anyone else quite like you. I don’t care if you’re grumpy, and I don’t care if you have a hard time showing how you feel. You’re not broken, and you’re not bad for me.” You felt your lips upturn into a small smile, noticing the blush of his cheeks and all of the small details you never had the chance to admire.

There was a splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose, like a constellation gracing his tanned skin. His brown eyes were even more breathtaking up close, and the fullness of his lips were more tempting than they’d ever been. You wanted to lean forward, to taste the sweetness he’d been withholding from you. The stony expression you’d grown so used to finally melted away, and you could see why he always adorned it while around you. Now that his cover was blown, the mask was gone, and he was looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

He was still hesitant, nervous about tainting the perfection you carried around with you. He didn’t want to dim your light, and he didn’t want to hurt you anymore.

“Stop pushing me away, Jacob. I don’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else.” You whispered. “I don’t want to walk away and forever wonder what it would feel like to love you. I can’t keep replaying ‘what if’s’ in my head for the rest of my life, and I don’t want that for you, either.”

“I’m not good at this stuff, sweetheart.”

“We’ll never know if we don’t try.” You offered, gravity pulling your face closer to his. Your nose was brushing his own, the smell of whiskey on his breath apparent and inviting. You weren’t sure what he was doing to you, but you’d never been so overcome with emotion in your entire life. “I don’t need someone bright and shiny, Jake. I need someone that balances me out. I need you.” His grip on your hips tightened, the breath catching in his throat at the three little words he’d been longing to hear since he first laid eyes on you.

“You mean it?” He asked, raising one eyebrow in inquiry as he ensured you were certain about everything you said. He didn’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it, realizing you drank too much and that he was too much.

“I mean it, Jake. I need you.” You stressed your point, desperate for him to close the gap between your mouths and finally give you the satisfaction of kissing him. Many nights you spent awake in bed, angry about his behavior and unbelievably turned on at how much you liked it. You hated yourself for being attracted to his behavior, but now that it made sense, you didn’t need to feel that way ever again. All the shame was gone, dissolving into one, unbearable, undying need for him.

The two of you clicked, better than anyone else ever had before. Even when you were arguing, short with each other and trying your best to stay away, there was always something. Whether it be a lingering stare, an accidental touch, or a sweet moment when you least expected it, he never failed to capture your attention and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away. He was infuriating, but you always seemed to come back for more, unable to refute his beauty and unable to resist the urge to know him. You couldn’t stand the idea of him disliking you, because you so badly wanted him to feel the same way about you. You wanted him to be caught up on you, curious about you and desperate to know more. You wanted him to be drawn to you in the same way, and you couldn’t handle him pushing you aside because your interest in him was driving you crazy.

“Say it one more time?” He asked, his lips just barely brushing over your own as he spoke.

“Please, Jake. I need you to kiss me.” You repeated, stronger than the last. Before the last word fully left your mouth, his lips were on yours and he was pulling you into him by your hips.

With your body pressed against his own, you felt all of the tension between the two of you finally subside. His lips were locked with yours, finally getting the satisfaction he’d been craving for so long. Your hands held his face, the touch tender and telling of your enjoyment. The tips of your fingers were tangled in the strands of his hair, the soft chestnut locks twisted around your fingers in a way you only ever imagined they would be. The taste of him on your tongue was addicting, even more so as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, begging you to let him take it further. You parted your lips for him, feeling his tongue quickly take advantage of the opportunity you had given him.

He tasted as sweet as you imagined he would, the warm remnants of whiskey he was drinking still lingering on him. He was addicting, intoxicating, and he was driving you insane without even trying. His hands on your hips were rough but gentle all the same, holding you tightly but cautious as if he thought he might break you. For the first time in your life, you were overtaken by greed, completely blind to anything other than your desire for him. The heat of his body as he held you to him, how perfect the two of you felt pressed together, was better than anything you’d ever felt in your entire life. His heart was beating hard against his chest, in time with yours as the two of you melted into one, cohesive mess for each other.

You let a moan slip out into his mouth, unable to hide your enjoyment for the moment. You felt his fingers tighten on you as he drank in the sound, surviving off of the sweet noise and locking it up in his heart for safe keeping. He pulled away from you, breathless with stars dancing in his eyes as he looked down at your face. His lips were swollen, the slight pout that so often made an appearance was nowhere to be found. He looked stunning, and you couldn’t believe he felt such a way about you.

“Hard for me to behave myself when you sound like that.” He huffed, his pupils growing large as he continued to study your expression.

“Who said you had to behave?” You asked, a sparkle of mischief shining in your eyes.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, your words hitting him harder than you thought they would.

He reached down, his hands landing on the back of your thighs as he lifted you in one swift motion. You locked your arms around his neck, your stomach twisting with excitement as you wrapped your legs around him. As he pressed his lips to yours again, he took a step forward. You were so immersed in the feeling of kissing him that you barely registered the chill that ran through you as he pressed your back up against the wall. With his newfound leverage, he pressed himself further into you, your hips meeting his as he kissed you. The intensity of the moment grew tenfold, especially with the new position.

The burning sensation in the pit of your stomach had prompted an ache between your legs that was becoming harder to ignore the longer he kissed you. Your dress had ridden up your thighs, resting just below your hips now. You quickly understood that you were not the only one with a growing problem, and you could feel his own desperation as your clothed cunt met with his cock through his pants. You could feel his entire length against you, and as much as you loved the feeling of kissing him, it made it incredibly hard to think about anything else.

His strong hands held your thighs, never letting you believe he’d drop you. He had you pinned against the wall, leaving no room for you to escape, and you were happy with it; there was nothing in the world that could stop you now, especially after feeling the euphoric affect of his touch. He was overwhelming entirely, but in the best possible way. You couldn’t even manage to form a coherent thought about anything other than the way he was making you feel, and you were eager to explore the possibilities the night held.

You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, allowing yourself to fully embrace how good he was making you feel with such a small amount of effort. His hands felt like they were burning into your skin, the touch melting into you, and his chest pressed against yours felt right. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, filling your senses every time you had a chance to catch your breath. Both of your lips were slippery, slick with saliva as he continued to kiss you, making even more of a mess. His lax attitude made it all the better, showing you that he was completely comfortable no matter how far you wanted to take it.

Perhaps the most pressing thought of all was how perfectly his hips met yours, and how badly you needed to feel it with less clothing in the way.

“Jake,” you breathed, parting from him as you rested your forehead against his.

“Could listen to you say my name like that for the rest of my fucking life.” He muttered, his tone gravelly and his gruffness making a return. This time, instead of irritating you, it sent a wave of pleasure straight through you. In an instant, you understood that his strong personality extended far beyond the realm of casual conversation, and you were eager to see it in action in a whole new way.

“I want you, baby.” You said, the words falling from your lips in a whimper. The need for him completely overtook you, in a way you almost didn’t believe possible. An hour ago, you were furious with him, convinced that he hated you and wanted nothing to do with you. Now, you were digesting the fact that no touch had ever felt so good, and you would do anything to be under him, just for a night. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want, beautiful.” He said, looking over your face with a fire in his eye that you ignited. It felt good to be looked at in such a way, like the whole world turned just for you. “Tell me everything.” He ordered, willing to comply with every one of your wishes, but wanting you to give him every one of the details.

“I want it all, Jake. I want you.” You explained, feeling his hips push forward. The pressure of his cock against your aching clit gave you a hint of relief, but it wasn’t enough. “I want you to make me feel good. I want you to touch me.” You pleaded.

“What else, gorgeous?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your jaw. You let your head fall back against the wall, giving him access to any part of you he wanted. His lips placed kisses along your jawline as he awaited an answer, sloppy as he began and growing even more so as he continued down to your neck.

“I want you to fuck me, Jake.” You confessed, free of any shame over the fact. “I need you to fuck me.” You corrected yourself, your desire pulsing under your skin as his tongue traced over the artery in your neck. He could feel your heartbeat on the tip of his tongue, your very life source offered to him on a silver platter. He pressed his lips to the pulse point, drinking in the desperation in your tone as he suctioned his lips around the very spot. Your eyes fluttered closed as he applied the slightest bit of pressure, focusing his attention there for a moment until he pulled away.

His eyes raked over the sight, the skin pink and irritated from his lips and darkening by the second. A perfect circular mark to remind you of him with every beat of your heart.

“I guess even a perfect little thing like you has some secrets to hide.” He rasped, his pupils consuming his irises as lust worked to craze him. “Tell me how you want me, angel, and I’ll give it to you.” You watched him carefully, your cheeks flushed and your skin hot. Your nipples were hard, pressed against his chest as he spoke to you. Every time he moved, the friction sent another rush of arousal straight to your core. Your skin was tingling, your excitement reaching every nerve ending and sending goosebumps prickling over your skin. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you, sweetheart.” He spoke again, trying to pry the dirty confession from you.

You had thought about it many times, but one thing you never seemed to consider was that in every fantasy, you got off from the simple idea of him doing whatever he wanted to you. Now, after experiencing touch from his hands, you felt that way more than ever before. No matter what he did to you, you knew you were bound to enjoy it.

“That’s it, beautiful? You want me to fuck you however I want?”

“Yes,” you nodded, excited just at the prospect. You looked over his face, piecing together every bit of information you knew about him. He was blunt, honest, and he liked to be in control. You couldn’t imagine sex with him being any other way than that, and you were eager to please him. If it was something as simple as that, you had no issue giving him the chance. “I just want to make you feel good, baby.”

The words seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain as he processed them. His hands tightened on you, his cock pushing forward into your cunt even further and his breath caught in his throat. He studied you for a moment, quiet and concentrated as he tried his best to figure you out. After a moment, his lips upturned into a devious smirk.

“Have you thought about me like this before, sweetheart?” He hummed, smug as he asked you the invasive question. Your cheeks burned red, your heart beating faster than normal as you quickly tried to find a cover up for the truth. Then, you realized you didn’t really care at all. You had thought about him in that way, and you had no reason to be embarrassed about it at all.

“I have.” You gave a slight nod, confirming his suspicion.

“And you got off to that? The thought of being my little fuck toy?” He pressed further, his intent to get you to admit to the dirty little fantasy. Although you wouldn’t have worded it quite the same as he did, the sentiment was the same, and you did get off on that thought alone. “Don’t be shy now, baby.” He said, his fingers snaking up the skirt of your dress.

“I did,” you whispered, biting down on the inside of your lip as you waited for him to respond.

“And you’ve been keeping that to yourself all this time?” He asked, his nose brushing against your jaw as his lips ghosted over your neck again. You squirmed under his touch, the feeling of his hot breath on your skin driving you insane. The tips of his fingers found your hips, settling just below the elastic waistband of your underwear.

He was going to be the death of you, and you were certain of that.

“Let me get this straight, angel.” He contined, pressing a delicate kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. A breathy wine pushed past your lips, your entire body ablaze with desire and desperate for him to do something other than tease you. “Did you like it when I was mean to you?” His words were soft, carefully treading the topic as he continued to gently rock his hips against your own. The dry friction was enough to keep you sane, but nowhere near what you needed. He took your silence as enough of an answer, smiling against you as you contined to try and move your hips further down on him. “Never would have guessed that Little Miss Sunshine likes to be treated like a whore.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to press your thighs together to get a bit of friction. So strung out on desire, you didn’t even realize that all it was doing was pulling him further in to you.

“I bet that pretty cunt is such a mess for me, isn’t it?” He asked, pulling you away from the wall and stepping towards the bed. His hands were on your ass, firmly holding you so you did not have to fear him dropping you.

His cockiness was infuriating in any other context, but in the moment it was sending you feral. You were a shell of who you were earlier that night, the only thing fuelling you was your lust for the man below you. You were desperate, willing to do anything to have him, and finally coming to terms with the fact that your secret fantasies about him had nothing on real life.

“Answer me.” He growled, his fingers tightening on you as he drew your attention back to his question.

“Fuck yes, Jake.” You rushed out, feeling guilty for leaving him hanging.

“You want me to take care of that ache between your legs? Make you feel all better?” He asked, his eyes flickering to your face.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, meeting his gaze with doe eyes that seemed to drive him crazy. With that, he dropped you down on the mattress, the impact lessened by the springs bouncing you back upwards.

“You want me to take care of you, we do this my way.” He said, now gazing down at you with a slight sneer on his face. “Sound good to you, angel?” You nodded, never daring to look away from him. “First off, you refer to me as sir.” He waited until you processed the information before speaking again. “You answer when spoken to.” He added.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded. A small smirk turned his lips at the sound of your response.

“And the last one,” he crouched down, eye level with you to ensure you understood the importance of his rule. “Don’t ever, under any circumstance, be afraid to tell me to stop.” At that, a smile turned your lips, and he reached up to cup your face. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his thumb drifting over your cheek.

“As for me, I’m going to enjoy this no matter how it goes, so tonight’s an apology for how poorly I treated you.”

“It’s okay, Jake.” You assured him, feeling slightly sad that he felt the need to settle the score. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“I want to, ‘cause you deserve so much more than that.”

“Okay.” You breathed, nodding against his gentle hold. His thumb drifted downwards, caressing the smooth skin on your face until it landed over your bottom lip. He traced the outline, taking a moment to admire you and appreciate all he had. As he did so, you placed a kiss to the pad of his thumb, feeling an unfamiliar tug in your heart that did not match the energy the rest of the night held.

For some reason, in that moment, things finally began to sink in for you, and you finally saw him for all he was. He wasn’t just some angry man who was unjust and cruel. He was a person, with feelings that plagued him every day, feelings for you. He chose to push you away not because it would do any good for him, but because he wanted what was best for you. From that alone, you could see that he cared for you far beyond what anyone else ever had. In some strange, twisted turn of events, you could physically feel the pull of emotion in your chest, the blossoming feelings for Jake and all he was, including his pessimistic and avoidant attitude.

This was what was meant for the two of you. Not the fighting, or the avoidance, but this; a blatant and unashamed attempt to show each other how you felt. The whole time, he only wanted to love you, and you only ever wanted him to like you. You had no idea why you wanted him to like you so bad until the sweet words began to fall from his lips, and now you understood that you had always wanted him to be the one to say such things to you.

He was a mystery that you promised yourself you wouldn’t solve, but that’s exactly what you’d been trying to do all along. You started every conversation with the intent of turning it deeper, and you left empty handed and heartbroken because you always felt like there should have been something more between you. If you didn’t truly believe so, you would have quit a long time ago.

Instead of dwelling on the past, you allowed yourself to live in the moment. The rough pad of his thumb still rested on the delicate skin of your lips, and you did the only logical thing that was running through your mind; you parted your lips ever so slightly, pulling the digit into your mouth and letting it rest on your tongue. You suctioned your cheeks around it ever so slightly, your eyes fluttering up to meet his as you did so. His expression was deadly, his eyes focused on you as his jaw clenched and the familiar muscle in his jaw flexed. Slowly, you moved your head back, his thumb sliding from your lips and falling from your mouth with a faint popping sound.

A low groan rattled his chest, his eyes fluttering closed as his head fell towards the ground. You watched him, eyes never leaving him so you could soak up every bit of his energy. “You trying to fucking kill me, sweetheart?” He asked, the rhetoric meant to go unanswered as his hands landed on your hips.

He pulled your near the edge of the bed, settling himself on his knees before you as his hand grabbed the fabric of your dress. He bunched the material in his fists, sliding it upwards with help from you as you lifted your ass from the mattress. When the bottom of the skirt landed near your navel, he dipped his fingers underneath the elastic of your underwear, using the opportunity to pull them down your thighs before you returned to your earlier position.

With your ass resting on the edge of the bed and your lower half bare, he couldn’t seem to control himself any longer. This was a moment he thought about often, but never truly believed he would experience.

“Do you know how often I thought about you like this?” He asked, his fingers roughly guiding your leg over his shoulder. The sudden action knocked the breath straight from your lungs, causing you to clench around nothing just from the thought of what he would do to you. “How many times I wanted to bring you up here and have you all to myself?”

“I thought about it too.” You breathed, your stare locked in on his face as his eyes scanned the sight before him. He leaned forward, his lips brushing over the soft skin of your inner thigh. Carefully, he sucked a trail of marks all the way up to the top of your thigh, determined to ensure you would remember the moment long after it passed. You reached down, brushing the long locks of brown hair away from his face so you could see the whole sight with nothing standing in the way. “I thought about it all of the fucking time.” You let out a shallow breath, watching as his mouth turned inwards towards your cunt.

Your stomach twisted into knots as you watched his tongue dart over his bottom lip, the anticipation killing you the longer he withheld his tongue from you. Without any further words, he leaned forward, unable to wait any longer and let his tongue connect with your core. Starting at your entrance, he let his tongue flatten against you, slowly moving it upwards through your folds until it landed on your clit. He took in a sharp breath before moving his tongue downwards and repeating the action for a second time. When his tongue settled over your clit again, he moved away just for a moment.

“You taste so fucking good, angel.” He rasped, his fingers tightening on your hips as he savored the taste of your arousal on his tongue. It was even better, knowing that he was the reason behind it. “Just as sweet as I thought you would be.”

A pathetic little whine fell from your lips, your face burning and your heart pounding in your chest as he lowered his mouth on you again. This time, his tongue went straight to your clit, his actions full of intent. As soon as his tongue began to trace over the sensitive bundle of nerves, your entire body began to tremble. You tangled your hands in his hair, a shaky breath leaving your lips as he focused his full attention there for a moment.

It has been too long since you had sex, and everything he did felt so good. You were a mess for him before he ever took your clothes off, and you knew it wouldn’t take long before he had you exactly where he wanted you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your head falling back on your shoulders as he worked at you, drinking up every drop of arousal you had to offer. His tongue felt so soft, warm and wet against you, making every movement all the more fantastic.

The power he held over you was nearly incomprehensible. Never in your life had another person affected you so badly and deeply, in everything that he did. Every lingering glance, slight smile and even the roll of his eyes, he had you hanging off it and asking for more. Even when you thought he despised you, you couldn’t shake the temptation to reach out and try again, because even a miserable interaction with Jake was better than nothing at all. You were a fool to think that the same emotions wouldn’t carry over into sex, but with his mouth on you, working you up to an orgasm, you realized that there was nobody in the world quite like him.

He was snide, sharp-tongued and quick witted. He was an enigma, catching attention no matter where he was or what he was doing. You were so convinced he hated you because it was easier to believe than anything else; even then, with his hands on your hips and his mouth on your cunt, you could hardly believe Jake Kiszka was interested in you at all. To know he spent so long hung up on you, thinking he wasn’t good enough for you was nearly painful to imagine. He was everything, even when he wasn’t saying anything at all. He was the whole world, and it felt like you were just living in it, which was why it was so hard to exist without any type of relationship with him. You wanted Jake to know you, to like you, to think of you in the same way you thought of him when you had a moment to yourself.

He let out a hum against you, the vibration running through your whole body and furthering the waves of pleasure already washing over you. You let out a sharp moan, your fingers tightening around the locks of his hair. You laid back on the bed, careful so not as to disturb him while he worked. The new position gave you a bit more control over the motion of your hips, and a lot more pleasure. He took advantage of your new position, pulling your ass off the bed and closer to him so he did not have to lean so far forward.

He groaned against you, completely overtaken with desire and unable to hide his enjoyment as your hips moved against his tongue to meet his time. The fire in the pit of your stomach was growing at a rapid rate, taking over your entire body and causing your mind to jumble with thoughts of nothingness. You needed it more than you ever needed anything in your entire life, and he was quite aware of that as you bucked your hips forward despite his tight hold. He was encouraging you further with every flick of his tongue, and just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he reached between your legs and added his middle and index finger to you.

Your hips jerked upwards in reaction to the curl of his fingers, which hit against the sensitive spot inside you every time he pumped them into you. You could feel him smirking against you, cocky and rightfully so as he realized how good he was making you feel.

“Oh, fuck.” You whined, your eyes squeezed shut as a particularly intense wave of euphoria took hold. Your abdomen was tense, just the same as your limbs. You felt like if you moved an inch, you would lose the pleasure he was so kindly granting you. “Jake, m’gonna cum.” You warned, feeling the sensation in the pit of your stomach grow stronger, snowballing as it spread across your skin.

He continued to pump his fingers in time with the movements, pushing you closer to the edge by the second. You pulled your leg casted over his shoulders inwards towards you, drawing him in further as he worked at you with intent. You could feel a sheen layer of sweat forming on your skin, glistening under the moonlight through the window to illuminate the sin you were engaging in. The obscenity of the display the two of you found yourselves in was a picture that would be framed in your minds forever, the memory of the event seeping into the walls and remaining there forevermore. You wouldn’t be able to rid the memory from your brain even if you wanted to, and that was okay by you, because Jake was the best that you had ever had.

With one last curl of his fingers, he sent you over the edge, the knot in your belly tightening and snapping under the pressure. Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him in further as his tongue traced over your clit. You cried out for him, pleading for more and less all at the same time, pleading for mercy you knew he would not give. Your hands in his hair were pushing him away and pulling him closer all the same, and you had never felt so strung out on pleasure in your entire life.

“Oh, god.” You whined, your thighs squeezing around his head as he confined to work you through the climax. His hands on your hips, bruising the delicate skin made your heart beat only for him in that moment, living just from the generosity he was granting you and thankful to be his.

When your body relaxed against the bed, he slowed his movements, eventually pulling away from you. Although you were grateful that he didn’t push you to the point of overstimulation, you immediately missed the feeling of his tongue, grieving the loss as if it were something catastrophic.

To you, it was.

He slowly rose to his feet, his hand swiping your arousal from his chin before they dropped to his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it and throwing it to the floor. You looked up at him, in awe of his blinding beauty and unable to process anything further than that. He unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops in one swift motion and tossing it to the floor.

“Get up.” He ordered, his usual expression taking over his face again, but this time it seemed even more ethereal. You did as he asked, rising from the bed and to your feet. “M’sorry, angel. Been waiting so fucking long. I need to feel you.” He said, kicking his pants and his boxers to the side to join the rest of his clothes on the floor. He stepped towards you, your eyes trained on his body as you tried to sear the sight into memory forever. He was stunning, more than you ever thought he could be, and seeing all of him only made you realize how lucky you were.

His hands snaked under your dress, pulling the tight material over your head and tossing it to the floor. Now that you were fully naked, he took full advantage of the fact and let his hands wander over you as he pulled you in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the feeling sending you feral as the pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple. You wanted to tell him he didn’t need to apologize for anything, that you needed him inside of you just as bad as he did. As your hands roamed his bare torso, you understood you didn’t have to say a word because he could feel how badly you wanted him.

He guided you to the edge of the mattress, taking a seat in front of the vanity Sam had placed at the end of the bed. He sat first, keeping his hands on your hips as he guided you towards him. With a smile, you placed your knees on either side of him, keeping a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Wish you could see yourself like this.” He muttered, his head craned upwards to meet your gaze as he lined himself with your entrance. The feeling of him against you was fantastic, only growing more so as he ran his tip your arousal. He bright his cock forward, guiding himself so he could slide over your clit. Your hips moved downwards in reaction to the feeling, in search of more. The pressure of him resting against you increased, only worsening your growing need for him. “Come here, gorgeous.” He muttered, carefully guiding your hips backwards. You felt him slide through your folds again, the sensation something so different than anything you’d felt before. When he settled by your entrance again, he couldn’t wait any longer to pull you down on him.

You both let out an audible sigh of relief as he pushed inside of you, the feeling of him filling you so fantastic that you needed to take a moment to appreciate it. You weren’t used to his size, but the stretch of your walls as he pulled your hips down to meet his was fantastic.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered, his nose brushing yours as your forehead rested against his own. “Feel even better than I imagined.” He confessed, his hands trailing up your torso and tickling your skin. You began to move your hips, starting with a slow pace while you both grew comfortable with each other.

You weren’t sure why, but the thought of him imagining the two of you in such a way was enough to get you off all by itself. It affected you so much, you couldn’t help but bring it up with him.

“Yeah?” You hummed, maintaining a slow roll of your hips against him. The ends of your hair tickled the skin of your back, tangling with his fingers as he held your chest to his. “You thought about me like this? Just like this?” You continued, adding a little extra force to your hips as you came down on him.

“All of the time, Y/N.” He said, one hand reaching around you and landing on your ass. His fingers tightened against you, his palm settling directly on the curve of your ass. “Thought about how good that pretty little cunt would feel wrapped around me every fucking night.” He confessed, leaning forward and capturing you in a kiss. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down with just enough force to cause your hips to stutter while they moved against him. “Takes everything in me not to take you upstairs and fuck you every time I see you.”

“I thought about you too.” You whined, your eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the feeling of him inside of you. You were without shame anymore, knowing that the two of you were finally on the same page. He thought about you just as much as you thought about him, he wanted it just as bad as you did, and you felt no need to hide it from him.

“Yeah?” He asked, thrilled at the sound of your words despite already knowing as much. His hand on your ass was guiding you down further every time you moved your hips, adding just a little more pressure to the already overwhelming sensation. “Did you play with yourself while you thought of me, angel?” He asked, his lips hovering over your ear as he spoke. The low tone sent a shiver down your spine, and his warm breath on your skin sent goosebumps rising across your entire body. Your hand on his shoulder tightened, but you did not confirm or deny the fact. “Come on, don’t be shy.” He coerced you to answer, leaning forward and gently pulling your earlobe between his teeth. “Want to know all of your dirty little secrets, beautiful.”

“I-I did,” you stuttered, clenching around him ever so slightly. He was impossible to resist and denying him the truth seemed more painful than confessing.

“So I was the one keeping you up at night?” He asked, a little breathless as he spoke as if the idea sent him spiraling. “My name on your lips as you imagined it was me touching you instead? And I wasn’t even there to hear how fucking desperate you were.” He said the second part with a hint of disappointment, as if he was grieving the loss without ever knowing he missed out. “You’re breaking my heart, angel.” He muttered, pushing your hair away from your neck as he pressed a kiss atop the darkening marks he’d already left behind.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, unsure why you were apologizing but doing so because you were terrified he might stop. He was silent for a moment, his tongue grazing your skin. The saltiness on the tip of his tongue seemed to drive him mad, his stature rigid and his chest heaving with every breath.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart.” He said, ignoring your apologies as his eyes focused on the mirror in front of him. He felt selfish being the only one who could appreciate the view of the scene you found yourselves in.

You slowed your movements, pulling away from him as you complied with his request without hesitation. Slowly, you got to your feet, turning around so you were facing the large vanity mirror as well. He reached out, his hands landing on your hips as he guided you back towards him. You placed your legs on either side of him, feeling him reach between your bodies to line himself back up with you. Once he knew you were comfortable, he pulled your upper half towards him, your back pressed against his chest as he slowly lowered your hips onto him.

“Want you to see how pretty you look when I fill you.” He muttered, pulling you down until he filled up you completely. A shaky breath left your lips as the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot, the sight almost too much for you to handle. He reached up, brushing your hair from your shoulders and pulling it all to one side. He draped it over one side of you, his chin nestling on the opposite shoulder as you began to move against him again.

With the new position, you could see everything. The furrow of his brow as he bargained with the pleasure of feeling you, his clenched jaw as he tried to keep himself calm, and more importantly, you could see him fucking into you, every time your hips raised and sank back down on him. It was almost too much to take, the sight so obscene yet so beautiful all at once. His hand snaked between your legs, his middle finger resting over your clit as he began to trace slow circles around it. Your legs trembled as you tried to keep a steady pace, the burning in your belly reaching a new level as you watched his lust-crazed eyes, never daring to look away from you.

“This is what you fantasized about, sweetheart?” He asked, making you understand the real reason he switched the position. He wanted you to remember, to know exactly what it looked like as he fucked you, so you had something to think about the next time your mind wandered when you were alone.

“Yes, sir.” You whimpered, your entire body ablaze with emotion. You’d never felt so good, and you’d never felt so alive. Sex with Jake was phenomenal, something so filthy that it only existed in the darkest depths of your mind, even when he wasn’t doing much at all. The closeness was enough to drive you insane, and the pleasure was enough to put you in the grave. His stern demeanor was infuriating outside of the bedroom, but seemed to further his charm as soon as his clothes were off.

“Want you to think about it every time you play with that pretty pussy.” He growled, his hips raising off the bed to meet yours in a moment of high emotion. You let out a muffled yelp, biting down on your lip to silence the sound as it passed through you. “If that’s still not enough, you just let me know. I’ll be happy to take care of her, whenever you need me.” He assured you, his teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder. The miniscule pain from the action only furthered the knot tightening in your belly. You needed to let go, to show him how good he was making you feel. You needed it more than anything you’d ever needed in your life. The pressure of his jaw slackened, and you felt his tongue gently trace the skin his teeth had marked, soothing the slight irritation he left behind.

A moan fell from your lips, loud and telling of the surplus of pleasure coursing through your body. His finger continued to trace your clit, relentless and unapologetic as he tried to pry another orgasm from you. It was becoming harder to focus, the sensation quickly turning into the only thing you could think about. You watched his face in the mirror, studying the beauty of the man below you. He was concentrated, certain of what he wanted and unwilling to stop until he got it. As you contined to watch him, you understood that his eyes were no longer trained to your face, and instead his gaze had fallen downward, settled on the exact spot where the two of you met. Your stomach burned as you realized he was watching himself fuck into you, the simple idea pushing you just a little closer to the edge.

“You going to cum for me again, angel?” He asked, his tone sickly sweet as if you had a choice in the matter. He wasn’t going to stop until you did, and the question only served as a catalyst in his ever growing ego problem.

Perhaps you were the real catalyst in the equation, because you seemed to lack any self control when it came to him, and you wouldn’t dare deny him of a single wish.

“Yes, sir.” You groaned, your eyes closing and your head falling towards the floor. You felt like you had no control over your body, your movements only made to further the pleasure he was already giving you. It was necessity rather than want; you were tired, but you couldn’t fathom stopping. You wanted to exist in the moment for the rest of your life, never letting him go and never worrying about anything else.

“Look at me.” He growled, his hand raising to your face. He clamped your cheeks between his fingers, forcing your head back upwards to face the mirror. Your body was overtaken with euphoria by the harshness of his actions, the feeling of his hand tightly holding your face adding the extra little bit of pleasure needed to send you over the edge. “Watch how good you look when you cum for me.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your movements stuttering as the sensation became too much to withstand.

“That’s it,” he rasped, continuing to hold your head in place. “That’s my fucking girl.” The possessive claim sent you spiraling, the term too much to bear in combination with everything else he was doing to you.

Your walls squeezed around him, pulling him in further and locking him there as your second orgasm washed over you. He raised his hips off the bed, continuing the same pace as your body froze in place. His finger on your clit never faltered, ensuring that you got the most out of the orgasm. He continued to whisper the sweet nothings in your ear, praising you for the show you were putting on as profanities fell from your lips. Your cheeks were red, your face hot as the sensation infiltrated every nerve in your body. Your eyes remained locked on the two of you, soaking in every detail as he worked you through the climax, admiring him as he remained so tentative as you unravelled around him.

Before the pleasure fully subsided, you could feel him shift underneath you. His finger moved from your clit, instead his hand holding your hips as he began to stand. He held you as he stood, guiding you upright with him without ever pulling out of you. Your mind was foggy and your limbs weak as you barely worked to help him, but he didn’t care about the lack of support. He was crazed enough from the look on your face that something superhuman took hold. He pushed you forward, closer to the vanity as his eyes stayed locked on your face.

You raised your hands to the cabinet, knowing his course of action before he ever began. You began to regain your wits at the same time as he pushed your upper half down towards the wooden surface. Your chest landed on the frigid surface, sending a shock through your body as you felt it. He reached upwards, his hand gathering your hair and knotting it around his fist as he began to move his hips. The new position allowed for much more freedom, and much more control. As much as he enjoyed the slowness as you grew familiar with the feeling of him inside you, he could only give up control for so long before he went insane.

“Being so good for me, sweetheart. Just a little bit longer, okay?” He pleaded, his hips slamming forward. A guttural moan tore through your chest, the pain and pleasure mixing together to create a whole new kind of feeling for you. You were tired, nearly fucked out and ready to go to sleep, but if he wanted it, so did you. You would do anything to please him and you would enjoy it while you did so.

“Y-yes, sir.” You complied, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to fight of the irritating overstimulation trying so hard to take hold. “Whatever you want, sir.” You added, finding that talking was helping you come back to your senses a little more.

“Fuck, baby.” He hissed, his hand coming down on your ass with a force that sent your knees weak. The ring on his middle finger sent an aching pain across the flesh, but it was so addicting you barely thought twice about it. The stinging sensation spread across your skin, the redness already beginning to darken where his palm came in contact with you. “Take it so fucking good.” He praised, his dark eyes still watching your expression in the mirror. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, the desperation to please him evident and doing nothing but furthering the frenzy he was stuck in.

“F-feels so fucking g-good.” You gasped, stuttering the words out through a mess of moans. You raised your hips a little higher, sinking your upper half down so he could reach a whole new angle inside of you.

“Such a little whore.” He commented, tugging at your hair and forcing your head upwards. Your eyes raked over your reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing yourself so strung out on pleasure. “Do you like being a whore for me, angel?”

“I love it.” You confessed, your heavy-lidded stare burning into him. “Only for you, sir.” You added, ensuring he knew that now, he was the only one who would ever have access to that side of you.

“That’s right.” He affirmed your statement, his words gruff as his movements grew sloppy. He was being pulled in to the same euphoria you’d experienced at his hands only moments before, the sensation taking hold and growing impatient with him. He needed it, and after his generosity, you would do anything to get him there. “This is all for me now, sweetheart. Nobody else gets to see you like this.” A high pitched whine echoed through the room, confirming his feelings on the matter without any words needing to be spoken at all. You wanted to be his; you didn’t want anyone else to have you like that, ever again. He brought out a side of you that you barely knew to exist, and the thought of letting it go was grievous. “Do you understand me?” He growled, knowing you did but eager to hear it anyway.

“Yes, sir.” You panted, watching as wrinkles formed between his brows, showing you just how hard he was trying to hold back.

“Want to hear the words, baby.” He pressed further, his pace bruising and making it difficult to formulate the statement he wanted you to say. Another moan tore through you, your throat raw as it passed through. You were on the brink of another orgasm, so close but it seemed just out of reach.

“I’m all yours, sir.” You promised, pushing your hips back towards him to meet the time of his thrusts. As his cock slammed into your cervix, your knees went weak below you, threatening to collapse under your weight. He noticed the change in your posture, immediately slipping his arm under your hips to hold you upright.

No matter the circumstance, he wanted you to know that you would never have to worry about falling so long as he was there to catch you.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He let out a strained sigh, his face contorting into an expression of pleasure. He was close, but he wasn’t willing to give in until he gave you one last orgasm.

To you, the thought alone was ridiculous; after everything he’d already done for you, you couldn’t imagine him holding back any longer.

“S’okay, baby.” You breathed, catching his eye so he could see the sincerity in your face. “Want you to cum for me.” You said, your words hitting him like a brick. It seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, the role switch sending him spiralling in an instant.

You could feel him pull out of you, both of you knowing he couldn’t push himself any further. Something seemed to take over you as he did so, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. You spun around, facing him and quickly dropping to your knees before him. You were nearly saddened at the thought of such an anticlimactic end for him, and the feeling forced you to take action as you moved your head forward and took him into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him as you bobbed your head down to take his full length, the simple fact causing the ache between your legs to worsen beyond anything it had already been that night. You missed the feeling of him inside you, but you were more eager to please him than you were to satisfy yourself.

He looked down at your face, shock written across his features as he processed your sudden change. It didn’t take long for the surprise to be forgotten, especially as his tip hit the back of your throat. His hand reached down, holding your hair in his hand so he did not have to miss a single detail of your face. The warm wetness of your mouth was just as inviting as your cunt, and the sensation furthered his pleasure as if he’d never pulled out of you at all. He didn’t want to push you, afraid that you might not be able to handle the same intensity in the newest position, but when you pushed your head further down on him and his cock slid down your throat, he quickly understood that you were willing to take whatever he wanted to give you.

His hips bucked forward in response to the feeling, and you forced yourself to swallow, your throat constricting around him and effortlessly sending him over the edge. At the same time, the most beautiful sound fell from his lips, gracing your ears and settling deep in the pit of your stomach.

For a moment, you felt like you could get off on the sound of his pleasure alone.

His posture slipped slightly as his orgasm washed over him, his release spilling down your throat as he held you to him. You moved your head against the force of his hand, your tongue moving against the underside of his cock as you swallowed back every last drop of him. A strangled cry left his lips as he pulled back, his hips jutting forward again as you ran your tongue over his tip. The saltiness lingered on your lips, making your mouth water and leaving you wanting more. In that moment, there wasn’t a single thing you wouldn’t do for the man standing before you.

“Get up.” He spat, his shoulders still heaving with his breaths. Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his gaze as you withdrew your head. His tip fell from your lips with a slight popping sound, and you couldn’t bite back the smirk forming on your lips. “You think you can do something like that and finish it there?” He growled, watching as you rose to your feet. He was not angry, and not a single part of his face gave you that impression. He was enamoured with you, unable to walk away without at least thanking you for the service, and he was completely beside himself with desire. “Turn around. I’m not fucking done with you, yet.”

You did as he asked, spinning back around to face the mirror. You sunk back to the position you were in moments before, your hands clamped around the edge of the wooden dresser. Instead of returning to his earlier position, he sunk to his knees similar to how you had done for him, his head between your legs and within seconds, his tongue connecting with your core.

He got straight to the point, so far gone he didn’t even care to tease you anymore as his tongue settled over your clit. Your hips moved back to meet his mouth, in desperate search of more and he barely even started. You were too far gone to care, much similar to him, and your body was still abuzz with the pleasure he had already granted you that night.

“Fuck, Jake.” You cried, your voice raspy and your tone breathy as your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. His movements were different than before, more messy and much less calculated, but it almost made the entire ordeal even more enjoyable. The knowledge that he was completely feral for you alone was overwhelming, and the fact he was pleasuring you solely because he enjoyed it was something you’d never experienced before. “Please don’t stop, baby.” You pleaded, your heart thudding against your chest and your face hot with emotion. He moaned against you, assuring you he would never even dream of it. The sound appeared much more animalistic than it was before. His hands raised, grabbing your hips and pulling you back towards his face. He was working at you with desperation, like he needed it just as bad as you did.

Your stomach was tense, your legs trembling as his fingers bruised your skin. You were so close, too far gone to care about keeping yourself quiet and without a care in the world about the marks he was leaving on your body. You wanted to remember it, to wake up in the morning and see the dirty details of the night lingering on your skin. In days to come, you wanted to think of the night every time you took your clothes off, living in the feeling of being his just for a moment longer.

“Jake!” You cried, your knuckles white from your grip on the vanity. Your body ached with exhaustion, but you were in such desperate need of another climax that not even that could deter you. He hummed against you, the warmth of his tongue and the vibration of the sound working together to push you closer to the edge. You could barely think straight, your skin tingling with pleasure every time he moved. You worried that you might not survive the fall, the orgasm barreling towards you faster than you could comprehend. Then again, with him holding you, you had a lingering sense of comfort, like you could survive anything so long as he was there to support you through it.

With one last flick of his tongue, you were pushed over the edge and there was no coming back. A strangled whine tore through your chest, your legs locking in place as the sensation took hold. You were crying his name, begging him for something he couldn’t give, because not even you knew what you needed. He didn’t even think of moving away, working you through the process until you rode out the high, and even then he felt like he had to force himself away from you.

When you relaxed against him, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were so tired, so ready to curl up in bed with him by your side. You wanted to sleep soundly, so much so that you could forgo the conversation about what the two of you were and deal with it in the morning. You expected him to feel the same, but he rose to his feet with a whole new surge of energy overtaking him. Wordlessly, he helped you stand upright, spinning you around once more by your hips, but he didn’t let go this time. Instead, he lifted you up, similar to how he did earlier that night but with much more strength due to the lust working to his advantage. You wrapped your legs around him, exhausted but still able to comply to his demands. Your mind was elsewhere, your body working solely to please him as he held you to him with one hand. His other reached out, carelessly clearing the surface of the vanity with one swipe of his arm. The few items toppled over and landed on the floor, and he sat you down on the edge of it.

“I know you’re tired angel, but I need to feel you again. I can’t fucking help myself.” He explained, reaching between you and running his tip through the wetness still lingering between your legs. He was still achingly hard, in dire need of relief again despite his last orgasm only being moments before. Your eyes were drooping so close to closed, but as his cock drifted over your clit, your hips grinded forward into the feeling, in search of the very thing that might be the death of you.

Slowly, he thrusted himself forward, his dick falling into position and slowly pushing inside of you again. Unprotected sex was risky, especially after his previous orgasm, but neither of you seemed to care a bit about it, too desperate to be close to each other again. The sensation of him inside you was too much, the stretch of your walls as he filled you again so much more daunting than the last time. Still, despite your body screaming with overstimulation, you couldn’t deny how right it felt to have him so close.

“You can take it, baby. I know you can.” He encouraged, beginning a slow rock of his hips against you. The newest position allowed for a whole lot more intimacy, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t completely living for it. Your arms raised, locking around his neck and pulling him closer. “Being so, so good for me, baby.” He praised, his hands traveling over your bare back to pull your chest closer to him.

You were completely fucked out, and you had no idea how he was still going. You had a hard time imagining that you had such an effect on him, but the proof was in his actions. This time around, he was much more generous with his sweet side, and had much less control over the sounds falling from his lips. He was desperate, acting as if the control was in your hands despite his dominant aura, like he would die if he couldn’t have you for just a little longer. You never thought Jake Kiszka would be the one before you, pathetically needy and unable to resist the temptation, but you were so glad it ended up that way.

“Come here.” You muttered, pulling his face closer so you could kiss him. The taste of you on his lips still lingered, something that you were growing more used to as time went on. The sweetness of his kiss was nearly too much to bear, a pitiful moan slipping into his mouth as he continued to fuck into you. You were a mess for him, willing to let him do whatever he pleased. The best part about it was that he felt the exact same for you in the moment.

Your tongue glided over his bottom lip, begging for more attention from him. His lips parted slightly, allowing you to slip it into his mouth. The kiss was sloppy, the salvia shared between the two of you soaking your lips and coating the upper part of your chin, but it was addictive. The messiness of the action only made it even more so, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

His chest was pressed against yours, his heart beat wild and matching your own. The dampness from the sweat on your skin caused the two of you to stick together, forcing you to stay in the position. His hands were grasping at your body, doing all he could to bring you closer than you could possibly get, and your hands were tangled in the mess of his hair. Neither of you wanted to break apart, so you stayed just like that for as long as you could.

As you continued to kiss him, the pressure in the pit of your stomach began to rise again, this time different than the last. It had little to do with his hips moving and everything to do with the connection you felt with him. His nose brushing against yours as he did all he could to continue the kiss was euphoric, and you couldn’t believe he wanted you so badly. After so long spent thinking he hated you, the feeling of him loving you was otherworldly. He was holding you with all of the emotion he’d kept locked up for so long, the truth coming out in a climactic and emotional manner. Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him further into you as he continued to fuck you.

For a moment, you felt like you had become one, cohesive being that survived solely off the beating of each others hearts.

You knew you were at the end, that you couldn’t possibly hold anything back. All of your willpower disappeared, your body doing as it pleased and your mind having no say over it. Without confirmation, you believed in your heart that he felt the same way as you did. He could feel the flutter of your walls around him, the telltale sign that you were close to another climax. He continued his pace, never thinking of stopping even for a moment. He needed to feel you in the most primal, visceral way possible.

“Come on, angel.” He muttered against your lips, upping the force in which he was fucking into you. “One more, baby. You can do it.” His voice was strained, like he was teetering on the same edge as you were.

“You too?” You asked, pulling away just enough so you could look over his face.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, almost embarrassed over the fact. It only seemed to further the burning in your belly, and you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. Neither of you cared about the consequences, only the intensity of the connection between you as he fucked you closer to the orgasm. In a permissive manner, you leaned toward and pulled him into another kiss, your mouth meeting his own and telling him everything he needed to know.

A groan rattled his chest as his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer to him as he gave in to the feeling. You did the same, feeling your skin tingle with the intensity you’d felt so many times already. This time was different, more emotional and less physical, but it was a million times better than anything you had ever felt.

Together, the two of you reached the peak, muffling every moan and cry with your mouths. His stature faltered, falling over into you slightly as you held him tightly. Your entire body trembled as the euphoria overtook you one last time, and his hips stuttered as he pulled your hips forward onto him. For the second time, he spilled his release into you, unapologetic as he worked you through your own orgasm. Your body ached from the tension in your limbs, your ribs pained from your heart pounding against them. Your hands loosened on him as you relaxed, the moment passed you by almost as quick as it came.

Reluctantly, he parted from the kiss so he could catch his breath. His forehead rested on your own, and his eyes seemed tired, but full of love. There was no more hesitation, no reluctance or indifference in his gaze. Instead, it was replaced with the emotion he was so determined to confess, and it washed over you like summer rain. It felt better than anything ever had, and you never wanted him to look at you any other way ever again.

Silence became the two of you for a few moments, neither of you having the energy to speak. He rested inside of you, completely content with holding you there as he soaked up the last bit of intimacy the moment had to offer. Your brain was abuzz with thoughts, all pertaining to him, and for once, there was nothing negative. Finally, you were at peace, completely comfortable with the man before you. It felt right. You couldn’t deny the fact, and you were over the moon with the outcome of the entire ordeal.

Eventually, he leaned forward, placing one last, gentle kiss to your lips. It was sweet, soft, and exactly what you needed to come back to earth. A small smile was tugging at his lips as he studied your face, and finally, he spoke. The words were quiet, barely noticeable over the sound of your beating heart, but you clung to them as if it were necessary for survival.

“Let me take you out to dinner. Let me do this right.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him. Your bare chest rested against his own, his arms around your waist and as he held you tightly.

“You sure Little Miss Sunshine isn’t too much for you?” You teased, a tired smile crossing your lips as you rested your forehead against his.

“Never too much for me, sweetheart.” He shook his head, looking over the entire picture before him. He had never felt so lucky in his entire life, and he was so grateful that you decided to take a chance on him even after he’d been so rude to you. As he watched your face, he realized he was almost more excited at the prospect of sleeping next to you than he was over having sex with you. “Little Miss Sunshine’s all mine, now.” He said as a matter of fact, turning his head upwards and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I can get used to that.” You breathed, unable to express just how happy you were at the sound of his words. After having him in such a way, you would be stupid to let him go.

“I think I can, too.” He smiled against you, soaking up the warmth of loving you openly. You let your eyes close, leaning against him, content with staying in the position for a little while longer. The warmth of his body was alluring, and for a brief moment, you thought you might fall asleep right there in his arms.

You couldn’t believe the night had come to such a climactic end, and you never would have thought you and Jake would end up in a position like such. You were happy, relieved even that all the years of struggling to connect turned out to be a misunderstanding at the very core. You were excited for dinner, you were excited to share a bed with him, wrapped up in his arms all night long, and you were excited to know him. Finally, you could delve into more than superficialities and small talk about the weather, and you could know the boy that always seemed to make your heart beat just a little faster.

Despite all of the new and exciting things, there was still one thing that remained true amidst the chaos, and that was the fact that under no circumstance would you ever let it slip that Sam was right, because both of you knew that you would never live it down.

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