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Behind The Curtain

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Sub Jake x F!Reader - 18+

𝙸𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙹𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚒𝚖?

Warnings/Themes: Sub Jake, Getting eaten out, Handjob, Begging, Edging, Instructions

wc; 6037

Standing backstage, you were enveloped by the energy of the arena, a living, breathing entity thrumming with excitement. The lights flooded the stage like a thousand stars igniting, casting an otherworldly glow that made everything seem more vivid—more real. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, a tight knot of anticipation lodged in your stomach as you focused all your attention on Jake.

There he was, your Jake, the embodiment of passion and charisma, projected larger than life. His fingers danced across the strings of his guitar, moving with an intimacy you had come to understand as a true reflection of who he was. In those moments, he was a sorcerer conjuring magic, the sound waves flowing through him like liquid fire. You couldn’t help but watch him closely, captivated by every tiny movement, from the way his brow furrowed in concentration to the electric manner in which he engaged with the audience.

He flung his head back, that wild mane of hair catching the spotlight as he let out a powerful note, his voice carrying effortlessly through the pulsating crowd. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he strutted across the stage, weaving effortlessly between the musicians, his brothers, who radiated an infectious joy that only intensified as they fed off each other’s energy. To them, the audience was the blood in their veins, and you were just grateful to be an unassuming observer, a witness to this euphoric spectacle.

But it wasn’t just the music that held your attention; it was Jake's flirtatious demeanor. He leaned toward the audience, his posture relaxed but charged, as if each woman—or man—holding up a phone was a personal invite for an intimate moment. He winked at a group of fans, eliciting squeals of delight, throwing guitar picks as though they were tiny treasures meant only for his most devoted followers. You could see the way their eyes lit up, but amid that sea of gratitude and awe, there was a fire igniting in your chest, a possessive desire to reclaim the attention that felt momentarily borrowed.

You weren’t jealous in the traditional sense; you understood the allure of a rock star, the magnetic energy he radiated. However, you couldn't shake the sense of longing, knowing that behind the spotlight was a man who was entirely and uniquely yours. You took a deep breath as you leaned closer to the edge of the stage, your heart racing as you tried to catch another glimpse of the man you knew so intimately—who, beneath all the bravado, was still the person you loved so fiercely.

As the music surged, you noticed a subtle shift in his demeanor. It was almost imperceptible at first, a fleeting moment when his gaze swept backstage. Then, your eyes met. Time seemed to slow, and everything around us blurred. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest as you felt that electrifying connection between you. He blinked, and his confident demeanor faltered for just a second, replaced by a flicker of shyness. It was a slight lowering of his gaze, a thread of vulnerability peeking through the walls he usually built on stage.

You watched him swallow hard, a shy smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he registered my presence. While the crowd cheered him on, youryour soul ignited at the sight of your usually unshakeable rock star suddenly almost bashful. It was a thrilling, unexpected dynamic that you you cherished: the strong, commanding figure who could sway thousands, but who could turn towards you and melt into something softer, something uniquely yours.

It was moments like these that you craved; his confidence, tempered by the warmth of your connection. You held his gaze, silently assuring him of my unwavering support, and in that instant, you could tell he felt it too. He straightened his posture and took a breath, but a touch of nervousness still danced in his demeanor, a playful tension edging between you. There was something intimate, almost secretive in the way he glanced at you, as if he was silently acknowledging that beneath the rock star exterior lay a man who just wanted to be loved.

Finally, as the last notes of the final song pierced the air, culminating in a crescendo that electrified the crowd, he bowed dramatically. The thunderous applause echoed in your ears, an affirmation of his brilliance. He raised his guitar high in a triumphant gesture, relishing the jubilation, and then, as if breaking free from a spell, he turned and sprinted off the stage, his face lit with a mix of exhilaration and relief.

“Jake!” You almost yelled as he emerged from the haze of bright lights. Relief washed over him, that same, contagious grin plastered across his face. You could see in those expressive eyes how fulfilled he felt, how ecstatic he was with the performance he had just delivered. Yet, you also observed the energy begin to shift; the high he had derived from the stage started to fade as the reality of your personal connection took center stage.

His hair clung to him, a sheen of sweat glistening under the dim backstage lights, and he looked overjoyed yet slightly dazed. There was a satisfying mix of triumph and warmth in his expression as he approached you, and, at that moment, you understood that he had left the explosive energy of the audience behind him.

“Did you see me out there?” he asked, cheeks flushed with adrenaline.

“I did,” you replied, a teasing smile curling on my lips. “You were fantastic.”

He let out a laugh, the sound infectious, as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I think I saw you cheering me on too,” he quipped, his playful bravado returning just a fraction.

Yet there was something in his eyes that revealed he was ready for what came next—something deeper that had been brewing the moment you first laid eyes on him on stage. This was merely the beginning, and you knew you had a world to navigate together, starting right here in this fleeting, stolen moment just before your connection shifted once more.

And then, he stepped closer, your energy converging, both of you aware that this was where the real magic began.

As Jake approached you, the electric air between us crackled, feeding the anticipation that made your heart race. He still radiated an aura of exhilaration, the remnants of the performance clinging to him like perfume, but beneath that rock star exterior was a man you cherished in ways that the crowd could never understand.

"That was some show, huh?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement, still misty from the stage lights. You leaned against the wall, crossing my arms with a playful smirk as you took a moment to appreciate him fully—a delightfully handsome, wild-eyed guitarist on the brink of exhilaration.

"It was impressive," you replied, tilting your head ever so slightly. "You were practically flirting with the entire audience out there. I half expected you to propose to a couple of them."

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, a slightly awkward gesture that you knew meant he was feeling a bit exposed. "It’s all part of the act. You know how it is, right? Gotta keep the crowd engaged. They love it."

"Engaged, huh?" You leaned a little closer, narrowing my gaze playfully. "Is that what you call it? Because it looks like you were just trying to pick up a few new fans in the front row."

His confidence faltered for a moment, a hint of blush creeping across his cheeks. “Come on,” he protested lightly, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “I can’t help it if they love me. You know I have a reputation to uphold.”

"I know, love" you said softly, lowering your voice, letting the teasing tone linger. "But what about what happens when the stage lights dim? When the crowd thins out and it's just you and me? Because up there, you were commanding, dominant. But down here—you’re different."

He raised an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and challenge sparking in his gaze. "Oh? Different how?"

"Let’s just say,” you leaned in closer, allowing the space between us to shrink further, “the true Jake isn’t just the one who tosses out picks to adoring fans, flashing smiles and winks as if his life depended on it. The real Jake is the one who watches me intensely, waiting for me to give him permission to be himself."

A flicker of understanding crossed his features, and you could see the shift as he realized where you were going with this. “Oh really?” he replied, his voice dropping in pitch, teasing me back. “What are you trying to say—about the ‘real Jake’?”

“Let’s not pretend,” you shot back, your heart racing at our playful back-and-forth. “You bring that stage persona home, and it’s all very... strong. But when you're away from the audience, you’re the one who comes to my side, who craves my approval. You’re not as tough as you seem on stage, are you?”

You watched him squirm for a second, the corners of his mouth twitching into a crooked grin as he processed your words. “Maybe you know me better than anyone else,” he admitted finally, a note of challenge lacing his tone. “But there are two sides to this, you know? Maybe I like having both.”

“Of course you do,” you said, your voice low as you stepped even closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him. “You love the thrill of everyone adoring you, but you also love coming home to me where you can let that go, where you can be vulnerable. That’s the real magic of it all.”

Jake’s expression softened, a blend of admiration and something else flickering in his eyes as he processed your words. It was like a light bulb had gone off in that moment, and you reveled in the look of realization that crossed his features. “It’s always a game, isn’t it?” he mused. “The stage, the crowd, the flirtation. It’s all part of the show. And then it’s just us.”

“Exactly,” you replied, emboldened, knowing you had struck a chord that had him thinking deeply. “You’re like a lion up there, commanding your audience’s attention. But down here, away from the flashing lights, you’re my playful kitten, waiting for me to pet you.”

He fidgeted slightly, laughing nervously as the teasing intensified. “So, what are you saying? That I’m not the king of the stage anymore?”

“Not just yet,” you countered, relishing the way his energy shifted at your words. “You still have the swagger and charm, but when it’s just us, I want you to remember who really gets to call the shots. You’ve convinced thousands of fans you’re in control, but we both know I have that special privilege backstage.”

“Privileged, huh?” he echoed, a playful glint lighting his eyes, but there was an edge of uncertainty in his stance. “And what kind of privilege are we talking about?”

“Let’s play with it, shall we? You strut around here like you own the place, but you can’t forget that I get to pull the strings when it’s just the two of us. You might be a rock star out there, but you’re my love—and that means we have our own rules.”

He shifted slightly, his confidence wavering but a smile still creeping onto his lips. “You think you can just use that against me? You know I have to put on this show every night—or else how will they remember me?”

“Does it really matter what they remember?” You challenged, my voice sharpening with playful defiance. “What matters is who you are when the lights go out and the crowd settles into silence. You can command their attention all you want, but what about my attention?”

"Okay, okay," he said, shaking his head, laughter bubbling at the edges of his words. “You’ve got me—caught between being this person up there and being... whatever this is down here.”

“And I love both sides of you,” you asserted, moving even closer, letting the air buzz with unspoken tension. “But I have to remind you that the charming rock god on stage isn’t nearly as convincing as the guitar-playing boyfriend who loves to succumb to my whims when it’s just the two of us.”

Jake's expression turned contemplative, realizing the weight and reality of your words. Here he was, the brilliant performer that lit up a crowd, and yet, in this moment, you could sense his innate softness, the way he let the masks of performance slip away in your presence. His breath caught ever so slightly, a hint of vulnerability dawning in his eyes as he processed how far your connection ran—how deep the layers of your relationship truly went.

“Okay, you’ve made your point,” he relented, that familiar crooked grin replacing the uncertainty that had edge-driven moments before. “Now what? How do you think I should behave when I step off that stage? Should I just bow down to you?”

“I wouldn’t dream of that,” you said smoothly, your heartbeat quickening, “unless you want to. But maybe we can start with you just listening to me, the way you do on stage, but instead of entertaining an audience, you’ll be entertaining... me.”

The suggestion hung in the air between you, a promise of something deeper to come, and you could feel the weight of colors swirling around you—his playful yet dominant stage energy still vibrant and alive, yet beautifully intertwined with the gentle whispers of vulnerability that always surfaced when it was just you two. He had played the rock god for the crowd, but now, your teasing words beckoned the man I adored to reveal himself fully, shadowed by an aching desire to explore every inch of the dynamic you had created.

As you stood there, waiting for his response, you could feel the simmering excitement—the thrill of discovering more about the true Jake who thrived in the aftermath of his powerful stage presence, ready to unfold perfectly in your hands.

The anticipation hung thickly in the air, electric with unspoken tension as you stood before Jake, the gleam of mischief dancing in your eyes. You could see how the playful teasing had fanned the flames between you and that your words had stirred something deep within him. He was your rock star, yet here, in this intimate setting beyond the bright lights, he was simply yours.

“Come on," you said softly, gesturing for him to follow you as you turned to walk deeper into the backstage area. The energy pulsing between you made you feel like you were floating, and you could sense that Jake was entirely willing to follow. He took a breath, clearly still riding the high of the performance.

“Where are we going?” he asked, practically bounding after you, his voice full of eagerness tinged with curiosity and something more. You shot a glance back over my shoulder, and the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered—sent sparks racing through your veins.

“To a place where it’s just you and me,” you teased, picking up your pace as I led him further away from the chaos of the stage and the cheering crowd. You snaked through narrow corridors lined with band posters, the sound of distant applause still echoing in your ears. As you rounded a corner, you opened a door to a small dressing room, dimly lit and quiet, a world away from the lights and noise.

“Wow,” he marveled, stepping inside and letting out a laugh, but you could see the slight quiver in his excitement. The room was littered with guitars and amplifiers, and the walls were adorned with personal mementos. Yet, it felt entirely yours in that moment.

Once inside, you closed the door behind us, shutting out the world and letting the atmosphere shift into something intimate and charged. It was time to explore the dynamic you had teased at earlier.

“Okay, then," you said, your voice steady as you turned to face him fully. "Stand there. I want to see how my rock god behaves when he’s not in front of an audience.”

He cocked his head to the side, intrigue flashing in his eyes. “Oh? And what exactly do you mean by that?”

A grin curled your lips, and you beckoned him with a subtle nod. “Right there against the wall. Lean against it, just like you did on stage, showing everyone your perfect angle. Let me see that side of you.”

His expression shifted to one of pure thrill, and without hesitation, he moved to comply, finding his place against the wall with an almost palpable eagerness. “Like this?” he asked, his voice embodying that familiar charm, but there was something deeper beneath it—a hungry anticipation that made my heart race.

“Exactly like that,” you said, relishing the sight of him, tall and confident yet waiting for your command. “Now, I want you to look at me the same way you looked out at the crowd, like I’m the only one who matters. Can you do that?”

He swallowed hard, his fingers curling into the wall as he focused solely on you, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that left you breathless. “I can do that,” he murmured, the controlled vulnerability in his tone driving you wild with excitement.

“Good. Now, I want you to remember that while you were up there charming them, I was the one that held your heart. So how do you feel knowing I’m going to tease you just a little?”

He let out a shaky breath, and you could see the flicker of desire in his eyes deepen. “You can’t tease me and just leave me hanging, though,” he breathed, urgency spilling into his voice. “I swear, I’m begging you—please, just let me feel something. You have no idea how much I want you to touch me right now.”

There was a rawness to his plea that sent shivers down your spine. “Is that so?” You said airily, your playful teasing intensifying as you stepped closer, your body just a whisper away from his. “I seem to recall you having all that confidence on stage. How is it that my sweet rock star can beg so easily when it’s just the two of us?”

Jake tightened his grip on the wall, his mouth forming a frustrated line as you remained tantalizingly close but just out of reach. The tension radiated between you, a potent mixture of need and wanting. “I didn’t know it would feel like this, being so close yet too far away,” he admitted, his breath catching, longing evident in his gaze. “Please, just... touch me. I’ll do anything you want.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider his words, watching as his pulse quickened. There was something almost intoxicating about the way he transformed in front of you. The flirty performer had slipped away, leaving behind a vulnerable, yearning man who craved not just a touch but something deeper, something that was yours alone.

“Anything, huh?” You pressed, enjoying the way his breathing grew heavier, feeling that lovely tension swell. “You have a reputation for being a king on stage, yet here you are, keen to submit to me. Tell me what you want and I might just see fit to give it to you.”

“Don’t, don’t tease me like this,” he begged again, his voice tipping dangerously close to pleading. “I want you to touch me, feel me—please.”

You could see the way he fought against the playful pull of the night, caught beautifully between who he was on stage and who he could be in this sanctuary you had created. And you ached to reach out, to close that distance, to remind him that he was safe with you, far away from the scrutiny of a crowd.

“Well then,” you said, a wicked smile spreading across your lips, “you better keep looking at me like that. Show me just how eager you are to have me touch you.”

Jake’s eyes widened a little, that familiar intensity sparking again, and you could almost see the battle waging within him between restraint and desire. “I’m yours,” he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper, rife with urgency, a certainty that brought a wave of exhilaration over you.

“Then let’s see just how obedient you can be. But I think you’ll find that I might have a little fun with this,” you warned, watching the determination ignite behind his eyes, and knowing this was just the beginning of exploring the extraordinary layers of your connection.

In that moment, you took in the sight of him completely—your Jake—as he stood, powerful yet yearning, the embodiment of devotion and desire. You both knew this playful dance would lead us to further depths, and as you moved closer, a daring spark ignited between us, waiting to explode into something utterly beautiful.

The atmosphere in the dressing room shifted, charged with an intensity that made my heart pound. You stood before Jake, reveling in the power you had over him in this moment. The rock star façade had shifted, leaving behind a yearning man who was absolutely at your mercy, and you intended to take full advantage of it.

“Jake,” you said softly, your voice laced with honeyed authority, “I want you to kneel for me.”

The request seemed to hang in the air, suspended between you, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. You watched as his breath caught for a moment, those expressive eyes of his filled with a mix of surprise and excitement. Slowly, he sank to his knees, the floor beneath him a stark contrast to the lofty heights of a stage.

“Good boy,” you murmured, the rush of satisfaction swirling in your chest as he settled, looking up at you with a blend of eagerness and longing. “But don’t think you can earn anything just yet. You see, tonight, you’re going to have to work for it.”

His anticipation was palpable as he shifted slightly on his knees, fingers curling into the fabric of the floor, eyes locked onto yours. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice a soft whisper like a secret just shared between us.

“I want you to remember that you need to earn my touch,” you replied, deliberately drawing out each word to heighten the tension. “And if you want to feel me—that soft, electrifying feeling of my hands on you—then you’re going to need to do exactly as I say.”

Jake’s gaze darkened, a spark igniting deep within those expressive eyes of his. “Anything,” he echoed, conviction dripping from each syllable.

“Good. Now, I want you to see just how much pleasure you can give me.” You stepped closer, feeling the heat radiating off his body, and relished the way he trembled with uncontained desire beneath your gaze. “Kneel here, and I want you to do what you’re told. But remember, if you rush it or don’t follow my commands perfectly, you won’t get what you want. You have to show me just how devoted you can be.”

He nodded, eagerness shining in his expression. “Yes, I’ll be good,” he promised, the trembling edge of desperation creeping into his plea.

“Then show me,” you directed, spreading your legs slightly and drawing him nearer, relishing the way he hung on your every word. You could see him swallowing hard, the reality of the moment settling in as he positioned himself right before you, nervous energy crackling in the space between you.

“Start slow,” you instructed, your voice low and sultry. “I want you to kiss and tease your way up my thighs first. Build the anticipation. Make me feel every inch of your devotion.”

He immediately obeyed, leaning forward and planting soft, tentative kisses along the inside of your thighs. You could feel the warmth of his breath sending shivers coursing through you. Each gentle caress of his lips ignited your skin, drawing moans from your lips that escaped before you could contain them.

“Use your tongue,” you urged as he continued to kiss, pressing deeper into his tasks. “Let your tongue trace along the contours of my thighs, tease me just enough to make me want more, but don’t rush. Make every movement deliberate, like a promise.”

Jake’s eyes met yours, a fierce determination gleaming within him as he leaned in closer, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin, sending jolts of pleasure ricocheting from your core. You watched with fascination as he focused entirely on his task, weaving intricate patterns of lingering kisses and teasing licks, every touch igniting a fire within you.

“That’s it,” you whispered encouragingly, coaxing him to keep going. “Feel how much I’m responding to you. Savor it. You want me to take you in hand, to feel those sweet touches against you—then you need to earn it by giving me everything you’ve got.”

He nodded, absolutely enthralled, clearly eager to keep provoking that pleasure, with each kiss growing bolder, and the smoldering desperation evident in his gaze evident. “I want you,” he murmured against your skin, the words vibrating gently between you. “I’ll do anything, just don’t stop.”

You felt my breath hitch in response, and that rush of desire only amplified the connection you shared. “You want me to give in and give you what you crave? Then keep going just like this,” you commanded, your words leaving no room for disobedience. “Focus on my pleasure, let it guide you.

As he ventured further up, his warm mouth trailing closer to the apex of your thighs, you could see him absorbing the heat and softness before him. “Now, start to tease me with your tongue,” you commanded, firm yet filled with passion, “and remember, the more patient you are, the more rewards you’ll reap. Take your time, Jake. I want to watch you work to please me.”

And with that, he dove into his task, his tongue gliding deliciously against your skin, teasing and tempting as he followed every directive. You could see the determination fueling him, drawing him closer to your core, your breath catching as he begged without words with each lingering touch. He ate you out like he hungered for your very essence, and you revelled in the delicious mixture of the command you had over him and the way he craved your validation.

“Keep your movements soft and slow,” you directed, soaking in the intensity of the moment as he continued to lick and kiss with exquisite vulnerability. “I want you to learn just how to push my buttons. Build the pleasure. Show me how much you can make me squirm and beg without giving me what I want. Let me watch you.”

His response was a gentle groan of frustration—the very essence of a man caught between desperation and the pleasure he craved to give you. “Please,” he begged again, drenched in need, the vulnerability in his voice like music to your ears. “I’ll do anything—I want to feel you close.”

The desperation tugged at you, and you felt myself teetering on the edge of giving in. I could tell he was pushing himself, working to follow your commands flawlessly, a mix of urgency and devotion guiding his every movement. You smiled at him, the pleasure building within your sending waves of heat coursing through your body as he continued, his need palpable.

“Just a little more, Jake,” you encouraged, your voice like a gentle caress, yet filled with undeniable authority. “Let me feel you earn this moment.”

With those words, you could feel him pushing himself further, his tongue expertly gliding with every flick and tease, coaxing you closer to the edge. In that dim light, as you watched him kneel before you, you knew that this was only the beginning of your dance—a promise of a deeper connection waiting to unravel in ways neither of you could fully imagine. As you took in the sight of Jake before you, kneeling between your thighs, a rush of desire washed over me. His gaze remained locked on yours, filled with yearning and a hint of desperation that ignited a fire deep within. The way he devoted himself to his task was intoxicating, and you knew it was time to reward him for his efforts.

“Alright, baby,” you said, your voice low and sultry, laced with authority. “You’ve been such a good boy, and now it’s time for you to feel just how much I appreciate your devotion.”

As you leaned down, your heart raced with anticipation, feeling the magnetic pull between you intensify. You slowly wrapped your hand around him, feeling the warmth emanating from your body. The firm yet gentle grip was like a spark that connected you on a deeper level, sending shivers of electricity through both of you.

You began to stroke him slowly, maintaining a deliberate rhythm that matched the lingering tension of your earlier exchanges. Your palm glided over him, each stroke firm yet tender, giving him an exquisite taste of what was to come. Jake let out a low, shaky breath, his eyes widening as pleasure flickered across his features.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, relishing the way he responded to your touch, his body instinctively leaning into your hand. “Feel how good it is to be worshiped, to be shown the same devotion you’ve given me.”

He nodded, breaths hitching as you picked up the pace, teasing him with just the right amount of pressure. Your fingers moved in a steady cadence, exploring every contour as you found the perfect rhythm that drove him wild. You noticed his hips instinctively pressing forward, seeking more of that delicious contact, and it only spurred you on.

“Keep your focus on pleasing me,” you instructed, my voice dropping even lower as you maintained eye contact, wanting to see every flicker of pleasure dance across his face. “You’ve earned this, Jake. Answer me with your body. Let me feel how much you crave my touch.”

The way he responded to your commands sent waves of pleasure through you. He kept his gaze locked on yours, every bit of his attention devoted to the flow of sensation between you. “I’m yours,” he breathed, each word heavy with longing. “Just… don’t stop.”

With each stroke, you felt the tension building within him, the urgency of his desire practically palpable in the air around you. You leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a whisper, “That’s right. Let that pleasure wash over you. I want to see you lose yourself in this moment.”

The heat radiating from him amplified as you continued to stroke him, feeding off the escalating rhythm. You could see the dance of emotions flickering behind those expressive eyes of his—passion, vulnerability, need—all beautifully interwoven.

With each movement of my hand, you slowly guided him along, allowing him to feel the intensity of the connection you shared. “Now,” you said, teasingly, “I want you to remember what it feels like to crave—how it feels to want something so deeply that you’d do anything for it.”

He swallowed hard, a mix of pleasure and desperate need evident in the way his body responded to your touch. “I’m… I’m going to lose myself,” he gasped, the words spilling from him like a confession.

“Good,” you murmured, my own desire flaring brighter. “Let it happen. Just give in to it. But don’t forget—you have to keep your focus on me. Only when I say you’ve earned it will you have what you truly want.”

The air between you thickened as you quickened my strokes, coaxing him higher, feeling him inching closer to that precipice of pleasure. You leaned even closer, your lips brushing lightly against his ear as you whispered, “Show me how badly you want to earn my touch.”

The soft pressure of your hand, combined with his pleas and the way he moved to meet you, created an intoxicating blend of lust and control. Every stroke seemed to bring him closer, and you found delight in the way he surrendered to all those delicious sensations. Your hand moved with purpose, guiding him, enthralling him, all while reveling in the exquisite power you held over him in this moment.

“Almost there,” you teased, your voice thick with sensual promise. “Keep giving me everything you’ve got. Show me the depth of your need, and let it push you to that edge.”

His breaths turned into soft gasps, each one pulled from the depths of his being as he rode the wave of pleasure you were granting him, a mix of desperation etched into every fiber of his being. And as you continued to stroke him, you could feel both of you teetering on the brink, as if the world outside had faded away, leaving just the two of you consumed by this extraordinary connection.

As the pleasure radiated between you, your touches continued to coax Jake closer to the edge. You felt the tension building, his body responding eagerly to your every movement. Finally, as you sensed him teetering on the brink of release, you slowed your pace just enough to draw out his pleasure, wanting to heighten the anticipation.

“Not yet, Jake,” you whispered, leaning closer, your breath warm against his ear. “I want you to feel every moment before you let go. But first…”

With deliberate slowness, you pulled your hand away from him, relishing the way his body instinctively leaned forward, chasing that fleeting contact. You brought your fingers to your lips, wetting them lightly before lowering your hand down to him once more.

“Open.” You instructed, and his eyes widened with a mix of surprise and eagerness. He complied immediately, parting his lips, and you slid my fingers past them, feeling the soft warmth of his mouth envelop you.

You could see the way his eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, a soft whimper escaping his lips as he began to taste you. You guided him gently, urging him to take your fingers deeper, allowing him to savor the essence of your connection. “That’s it,” you murmured, your voice just above a whisper. “Feel how good it is to submit to me, to be enveloped in desire.”

He sucked on your fingers with a fervor, clearly lost in the moment, each flick of his tongue sending waves of heat flowing through you. You relished the sweet sight of him, so completely devoted, and felt a rush of satisfaction surge within you.

After a moment, you withdrew your fingers slowly, the slickness trailing as you pulled away, watching him with a smirk as he opened his eyes, a mix of longing and disbelief painted across his features.

“Get ready, Jake,” you said, standing up and brushing your hands down the front of your outfit, smoothing out the lingering tension from your exchange. A playful glimmer danced in your eyes as you looked down at him. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

His response was an adorable whimper, pure need etched into his expression. You could almost hear the unspoken plea—his desire for more palpable in the air. His chest heaved with breaths that were unsteady, the aftermath of pleasure evident in every flicker of his gaze.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” you added, playful yet commanding, feeling the delicious power you held in this moment. You traced a finger along his jawline, lingering just a moment longer before stepping away.

As you walked toward the door, you threw a last glance over your shoulder, casting him a knowing smile. The sight of him, still kneeling and visibly eager for what was to come, sent a thrill racing through you. You could see the storm of emotion churning inside him—a blend of anticipation, excitement, and that hint of desperation.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said, your voice smooth as silk. And with that, you stepped out into the night, leaving him to linger on the edge of his desires, ready for whatever was to unfold next.

[shimmerwindow]

Black Velvet and White Roses.

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

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A/N: It occurred to me that it's been ages since I last wrote a one-shot featuring Josh, so I thought it was about time I changed that.

I really hope you like it!

I’ll be eternally grateful to the person who took this pic of Josh because that's where I drew inspiration from to write this story.

A special thank you to @its-interesting-van-kleep for suggesting a very fitting pet name for Josh.

Pairing: Josh x reader.

Word count: 6.4K

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, dirty talk, swearing, edging, handjobs, oral (m!receiving), restraints, anal play.

Summary: After quite some time apart, the need you have for each other is almost unbearable. Who's going to be in control this time?

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A white rose was laying on your pillow as the voice of the man who had left it there echoed through the piazza that your room was overlooking.

You padded softly across the room to reach the window and slightly moved the curtain to look outside.

There he was, commanding the crowd with his brothers like he was born for it.

A deep sense of longing filled your heart despite him being right there under the very same sky as you.

Yeah, finally he was close.

But you wanted him closer.

Your eyes traveled over every inch of his body but as your gaze neared his crotch, inevitably in plain sight in the tight velvet of the jumpsuit, a delicious idea crept into your mind.

You loved the way the fabric always hugged him perfectly. It made your mouth water all the time.

You let the curtain fall back but decided to open the window so that his voice could reach you better.

Then you sat on the bed with your head against the headboard and took the rose in your hands.

First you smelled its delicate aroma and then you placed it gently against your cheek, reveling in the coolness and softness of its petals on your flushed cheek.

He had always done that. Since the very beginning of your relationship.

When there was a concert, he always made sure you had your white rose first, even if he was miles and miles away. He never missed once.

When you weren't following him around, he had people delivering it to you, but when you were with him, he always made sure he himself placed it into your room for you.

You listened to the concert through the open window while laying on the bed, watching the stage lights reflect on the frescoed ceiling, making the paintings look almost alive.

The evening wasn't too hot, a gentle breeze was making the long white curtains of the windows billow slowly.

As soon as you heard the final notes of the closing song, your heart started hammering in your chest in anticipation.

You sat on the bed facing the door, feeling your hands tremble as you waited for him.

Minutes went by and finally you heard some commotion in the corridor.

You heard the muffled noise of footsteps approaching on the carpeted floor and some hushed ‘good nights’ being exchanged before the knob slowly turned and the antique solid-wood door opened.

There he stood, in all his glory, clad in his luscious black velvet jumpsuit paired with jacket and chiffon scarf.

It was one of your favorites. And he knew it.

It marvelously accentuated his eyes, which were still bejeweled with his usual rhinestones and sensual black eyeliner.

You made a mental note to buy Jenny some extra wine for suggesting he should wear it.

It looked divine on him.

He approached you with a big smile and twinkling eyes and you practically ran towards him, jumping into his arms.

Neither of you said a word. There was no need to. Your bodies, pressed together in a tight embrace, meant more than a thousand words.

After a while you broke the embrace and kissed him passionately, tasting wine on his perfect lips and making him exhale his breath from his nose onto your cheek in surprise.

You were the first one to part from him again, licking his lingering taste from your own lips and caressing his spit-slicked ones gently with your thumb while his eyes bore into yours.

“Hi” he whispered onto your lips.

“Hi” you whispered back, feeling your heart almost burst in your chest with love for him.

“I missed you.” He said with a sweet smile.

“Me too.” You answered, wrapping his little scarf around your fingers and tugging him back towards your lips with it.

The kiss started slow and delicate but quickly it turned heated.

You had just successfully slipped the tip of your tongue into his mouth again when he hastily parted from you, placing a warm hand on your throat.

“Just let me go shower, baby, then I'm all yours.” He said smirking, pointing out those last words with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows and tilting your head slightly backwards with his thumb on your chin.

He tried to move towards the bathroom, but you didn't let him.

You placed both hands on his chest and pressed him firmly against the wooden door with a muted thud. The force you used to do so caused a little whimper to leave his lips and his eyes widened.

“Oh, I don't think so, Joshua. You are staying right here.” You whispered into his ear and then you licked his lobe and tugged at his sword earring with your teeth, making goosebumps raise on the delicate skin of his neck.

He opened his mouth to speak but you crashed your mouth to his, successfully silencing him.

He moaned into your mouth when your hands gripped his hips and you pressed your body further against his. He wrapped his arms around your form and started caressing your hips.

Your hands started roaming up and down his body ravenously. The feeling of that luscious black velvet under your fingertips was quickly making you lose your mind. Shivers of need started coursing through your body and all you wanted to do was rip his clothes off and take him right there.

But, at the same time, you wanted to take your sweet time with him. You had dreamt about this moment for the entire time the two of you had been apart. You needed to slowly make him unravel and lose his mind.

And you happened to have the best idea to do so.

“What do you me-” Josh started whispering but your index and middle finger on his lips successfully silenced him. He looked genuinely confused.

Poor thing, he had no clue about what you had in store for him.

“Shh, sweet boy, relax for me” you whispered into his ear and he bit his lip, a low growl leaving his chest.

Your hands languidly moved from his shoulders down to his chest, reveling in the warmth of his skin radiating from the fabric, and then further down, following the curve of his hips.

You licked along the edge of his jaw and, when you reached his ear, you spoke again.

“You don't even know what I have in store for you, baby” you told him in a sexy whisper. At the same time that those words left your lips, your hands neared his crotch.

You started caressing his still-clothed shaft and he whimpered loudly, letting his head fall back against the door with a low sound that echoed into the room.

The feeling of his cock, deliciously hard and girthy under your fingertips made your mouth water. You started skimming your fingertips over him, teasing his head through the fabric and feeling the velvet get wet right under your touch because of his precum.

He moaned your name when you caressed him a little more intensely and you felt his hips chase the movement of your hand, needing more.

You kissed him again and his hands grasped your ass pulling you closer to him so that your hips could press together to create some needed friction. The feeling of his erection against you was so distracting you almost forgot the entity of your plan entirely.

When you stopped kissing him, he tried to chase your lips but you stopped him with a hand around his throat, feeling his accelerated pulse in his jugular as you squeezed his skin lightly.

He looked desperate and already so fucked out. His eyes were glazed and slightly teary, his pupils were blown out and his lips swollen because of constant biting.

“Please, angel” he whispered, moaning your name when you kissed the hollow of his throat and his collarbones.

“I'm no angel tonight” You whispered on the smooth skin of his chest while lowering yourself a little and the look he gave you meant more than anything.

You tugged the fabric away from one of his pecs and sucked on his nipple while you kept touching him. You felt him tense and jut his hips against your hand, silently pleading you for more.

You repeated the action with his other nipple, this time giving it a gentle bite and feeling him twitch in his jumpsuit.

When your lips skimmed down his chest languidly, reaching the v-line where his milky skin met the dark velvet, you heard another whispered plea leave his lips.

You looked up at him with a devilish smirk on your lips and when you saw he was already watching you, you winked and placed the little slider of his zipper between your teeth.

His eyes widened in disbelief when you started lowering yourself onto your knees in front of him while sliding his jumpsuit open with your teeth.

He sighed in relief and leant his head against the door as the fabric slowly opened against his abdomen.

But you wanted to tease him a little more, so you stopped right before the zipper reached all the way down to his crotch.

He whined, desperate, and tried to move his hips to reach your face but you quickly stopped him, placing your hands on his hips and pressing him firmly against the wood.

“Stay still, little minx. You've already had your fill with the crowd tonight. Charming them with your fabulous makeup, outfits and that crazy voice of yours while I was here, alone, watching you flirt with every breathing entity out there. Now let me take my time. Let me worship this perfect body of yours for a while. And don't you dare move or I'll have to restrain you. Hands on the wall.” You whispered, trying to sound commanding.

“Don't tempt me with a good time, sweetheart” he retorted, smirking and asking for it like the little brat he was.

When you glared at him warningly, he just smiled like an innocent child and spoke again.

“You know, I've got a better idea. We could make a bet. Let me see…” He looked up, faking being deep in thought, then he went on.

“Oh, yes, let's see if you can ruin my makeup while playing the boss like this. If you do, I promise I'm going to be your little obedient puppet for the rest of the night.” He remarked, defying your order and moving his hands from the wall to stroke your lower lip with his thumb.

“I think you should shut up, babe.” You whispered back, unamused by his behavior.

He chuckled at your serious tone and your blood started boiling in your veins.

“C'mon angel, I dare you. Show me what you got.” He whispered assertively, watching your reaction intently with a little twinkle in his eyes that signaled to you that he was, indeed, pushing your buttons on purpose.

Once again he tried to free his hips from your grasp in search of a bit of friction, but, again, you stopped him, sinking your nails into his meaty thighs and hearing him groan.

“Just, please, I need your mouth.” He pouted like a petulant toddler when you weren't giving him exactly what he wanted.

You licked his tummy and nibbled at the skin right under his belly button, with the intention of leaving a purple mark there, where nobody, but you, could see it.

“Don't defy me, sweet boy. You need whatever I decide to give you, alright?” You whispered on the delicate exposed skin of his tummy, that was heaving in anticipation and he chuckled out a hearty laugh again.

“You know pretty well that I always get what I want, baby.” He said while patting your head like you were a little loyal dog waiting for his order.

You were up in a second, with a hand tightly wrapped around his throat, a thigh snuggly pressed inbetween his legs and your other hand gripping his curls and tilting his head so that he couldn't stop staring into your eyes.

“I'd really watch my mouth if I were you, Joshua.” You hissed against his parted lips.

“Or I swear I'm going to make you hump my leg like the pathetic little bitch you are all night long.” You deadpanned and he smirked.

He loved when you called him like that.

“Sounds good.” He retorted, a little out of breath because of the grip you had on his throat and, much to your disbelief, started rubbing his erection against your hip bone, closing his eyes and moaning out exaggeratedly loud on purpose.

You tugged harshly on his hair and removed your body from his completely as a punishment.

“This pretty jumpsuit is going to be ruined when I'm done with you. And then I'm going to make you kneel in front of the bed with cum dripping down your pant leg while I fuck myself over and over again with one or two of your ridiculously expensive toys, understood? Maybe I'm going to start with the dildo you keep right under the pillow of this big bed. I bet it kept you good company when I wasn't here.” You threatened him but he was loving every second of it and he was absolutely unfazed by your remarks.

You knew him all too well and you could almost see the gears turning rapidly into his brain while he tried to come up with yet another bratty response.

“Well, princess, you love when I play with those ridiculously expensive toys just for you, why would you think watching you indulge in such depravity over and over again would be a problem for me?” He whispered, confident, biting his lip.

“Stop talking.” You placed your index finger against his lips but it didn't stop him from retorting yet again.

“Or else, what are you gonna do? Slap me? Spank me? It's always a fucking win-win for me, baby.” He whispered trying to kiss you despite your grip onto his throat.

“Shut. Up.” You hissed into his ear but you knew he was about to answer back again because of the playful wink he gave you. That simple gesture told you that he was absolutely ok with everything happening, and wanted you to keep going just like that.

“I think you should make me. Do you happen to have a ball gag with you, angel?” He inquired, faking an innocence he didn't possess.

You let go of his hair and grasped his jaw, squeezing his cheeks and making him forcibly open his mouth.

“Oh, princess, I think I know what could really shut you up.” You whispered, licking at his neck and feeling him swallow.

“If you answer back again I swear I'm going to tie you to that chair, gag you with this pretty silk scarf of yours and then I think I'm going to call Jake and ask him to come play with me while you can’t do anything but watch us.” You said mustering up your best innocent face while doing so and grabbing your phone from the ancient table nearby.

You were about to dial Jake's number when one of Josh’s hands grasped your phone and placed it back on the table without saying a word.

Then he placed his hands back on the wall and stared you down with his chin held high and a defying expression in his eyes.

You knew mentioning his brother would shut him up immediately. You had soon learned that they hated the many comparisons people subjected them to. Those only fueled their fierce competition causing negative tension to build between them. On top of this, the sole idea of someone else touching you while he was watching was repulsive to him. He told you many times he didn't have any problems with being watched, but being forced to watch you with someone else was pure torture for him.

“Finally, some peace and quiet.” You whispered against his lips trying to get a reaction from him, waiting for him to disobey again and try to kiss you.

But, much to your surprise, he didn't. He kept his mouth shut like a good boy and glared at you. Only the rapid rising and falling of his chest told you that he was absolutely restraining himself.

You kissed him passionately without warning, slipping your tongue into his mouth immediately and letting your body fall into his.

After a few seconds you separated from his lips with a loud smack. You were both out of breath but, by the look he had in his eyes, he would have been happy to just keep kissing you and fall by your lips.

“You are such a brat, Joshua.” You exhaled into his ear and he chuckled.

“And you love me for it, don't you?” He whispered out of breath.

“Fuck, yes, I do. And I'm fucking tired of waiting. I need you.” You whispered desperately against the sweaty skin of his neck.

You kissed him again, placing your hands on his shoulders and slowly freeing the upper part of his body from the unzipped jumpsuit.

His milky skin shined with sweat in the bright night, making your mouth water at the sight and your body shake with need.

The velvet slowly slipped from his body, bunching up around his waist.

Your hands delicately skimmed down his chest and then slipped around his back, following the curve of his spine. You stopped almost against his lower back and whispered into his ear, tugging lightly at the rich fabric.

“If I remove this, are you going to behave?” He was already nodding his head before the last words left your lips, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation of being finally free.

Your hands moved lower, grabbing his perfect perky ass and letting the fabric fall to his feet.

A relieved groan left his chest when his prominent erection was finally free from its prison. It arched away from his body beautifully. The veins that ran along his length begged to be licked and his pink wet head demanded your attention.

His lips were already parting to thank you but the only thing that left them was an unbridled moan when you unexpectedly dug your nails into the soft skin of his asscheeks.

“Fuck” he hissed involuntarily.

You dropped on your knees in front of him and smiled when you saw his beautiful cock twitch in anticipation.

You started nibbling on his inner thigh while your hands undid the buttons of his cuffs and then helped him step out of the velvet.

When he was finally free, you warned him again.

“Keep your hands on the wall and I'm going to reward you.” You whispered on the damp, reddened skin of his inner thigh.

He bit his lower lip and nodded, squeezing his eyes shut when he felt your warm breath between his legs. His thighs twitched when you started placing little kisses against his hips and his breathing accelerated when you sucked a mark right there.

At that moment you decided he had suffered enough. Without a single warning, you plunged his length into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat with an audible gag from your part.

He almost doubled over and, to stop himself from losing his balance, he gripped your hair with both hands while cursing loudly.

“Oh shit, fuck” he whimpered failing at controlling his hips that involuntarily pushed forward one, two then three times, making you gag again, harder.

Tears started pooling in your eyes and you had to pull away, coughing.

“Fuck, angel, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to-” he started speaking, flailing his hands around, but a glare from you stopped him.

You stood up, still completely clothed, without a single word.

Only then he noticed he broke your rule of keeping his hands on the wall and he cursed himself.

“Joshua, look at me. I already told you I'm no angel tonight.” You said, your tone serious and tense.

When he looked at you, you went on.

“Go on the bed, lay down on your back and put your hands behind your head against the headboard.” You ordered in a commanding whisper.

He did as he was told, immediately. He lay down and was about to discard the silk scarf on the floor when you stopped him.

“Keep the scarf. Hands on the headboard, now.” your clipped order echoed into the room.

When he had settled, you climbed on the bed and then on top of him on all fours. You admired him for a moment, mesmerized by his beauty.

On his still heaving chest, the black silk scarf was creating a delicious contrast with his glittery damp skin.

You bent down and placed a single lingering kiss on his sternum, before pinching the silk between your teeth and tugging it away from his body.

Then you sat down next to him, wrapped a loose hand around his painfully hard cock and started stroking him gently.

He closed his eyes, but you ordered him to open them.

“Look at me. I'm going to tie your hands against the headboard. Are you ok with this?” You whispered against his lips.

“Yes” he answered, licking his lips and relaxing his arms behind his head.

You made quick work of the scarf, wrapping the bejeweled strip of fabric around his wrists and then around the intricate wood of the headboard, paying attention to not tightening it too much.

Once you were done, you stood at the foot of the bed and admired your work.

He looked beautiful, helpless and needy, completely at your mercy.

When he saw you were watching him, he put on a show just for you.

He winked lasciviously showing off his toned abs and flexing his leaking cock, making it bob around obscenely.

Then he couldn't stay silent anymore.

“Hey, little devil, what are you waiting for? Don't you want this?” He inquired in a sexy whisper before spreading his knees apart and exposing himself to you completely, like the pathetic brat he was.

You scoffed out a laugh, shook your head and climbed on the bed again.

From your jeans pocket you produced a black strip of velvet that matched the one of his jumpsuit and placed it on his chest before making him place his legs back on the bed.

“Now I'm going to tell you exactly what I have in mind. This is for your pretty eyes. I'm going to blindfold you baby, alright?” You whispered.

“Fuck yeah. Please.” He begged you, biting his lower lip.

You tied the fabric around his head gently and then moved lower.

“I want to play a game with you. I want you to tell me exactly what I am touching you with, ok? If your guess is right, I am going to reward you. If your guess is wrong, I'm going punish you by edging you even more. Are you alright with this?” You asked him while kissing his tummy.

“Yes, I'm alright with this” He whispered.

You started rolling your thumb against the pillowy damp head of his cock and he tensed.

“Your thumb” he answered, his voice strained and needy.

“Good boy. This one was easy” you answered him before kneading his tight balls into your hand very gently.

He moaned and you felt his hips buck up against nothing.

You placed two of your fingers on the underside of his cock and started stroking it up and down, adding your tongue to the mix to confuse him.

“And now, sweet boy?” You asked, placing kisses against hips and waiting for his answer.

“Your fingers. And tongue” he retorted, moaning out your name.

“Yes. Next one is going to be more difficult” You whispered and as a reward, you gently sucked his balls into your mouth, massaging them languidly with your tongue.

His back arched slightly from the bed and he exhaled a labored breath.

You skimmed the tip of your nose against one of the veins that adorned his cock and waited for him to finally fail.

“Your nose” he whimpered, tugging at his restraints.

You were impressed.

“Right again, starboy. You deserve a reward.” You said and then plunged him again deep down your throat, bobbing your head up and down and sucking on his sensitive head with every upward stroke.

The sounds leaving his lips were heavenly. He really sounded like he was singing when he moaned and whimpered.

“Fuck, baby, I'm close” you heard him exhale before begging you to let him cum.

But, much to his dismay, you stopped.

You wanted to try something else first.

You grabbed the white rose he had gifted you earlier, smelled it again and then skimmed it over his flushed member, making him moan loudly and arch his back.

The rose was incredibly cool and soft against his reddened skin and he couldn't stop his hips from chasing that feeling.

You did it again and he cursed, biting his lower lip so hard you were afraid he would rupture the skin and draw blood.

With a loose hand around his cock, you angled it upright, let a drop of saliva dribble from your lips onto him and started stimulating his head with the rose, as if it was your tongue.

He was panting heavily when you asked him the dreaded question.

“What am I using now, Joshua?” You whispered while stroking him with one hand and rolling the rose against his tip with the other.

“Shit, baby, I…I don't know. Please don't stop again, I need this” He whispered while trashing his head around.

“Shhh, sweet boy. Think about it, I'm not stopping. Focus on the feeling.” You tried to comfort him, slightly accelerating the rhythm of your strokes.

When you started moving the flower up and down his shaft and a few petals fell against his crotch, he got a hint but couldn't believe it.

At that moment, you moved the blindfold away and he moaned loudly curling his toes at the depraved sight in front of his eyes.

He really didn't think that the sight of you, in all your naked glory, stroking his painfully hard cock with a delicate white rose could have that effect on him.

His eyes focused on the rose, taking in the astonishing contrast between its whiteness and the reddened straining skin of his head.

Then his eyes locked with yours again and he smirked devilishly at your little depraved mind.

“There's plenty more where this came from, pretty boy.” You assured him with a wink and he laughed heartily.

Watching him in the eyes, you snapped the stem from the rose and placed the flower between your lips.

Then, while keeping a devilish eye contact, you lowered yourself and started caressing his tip with the flower in your mouth. With one hand you kept stroking his shaft and with the other you massaged his tight balls.

You tightened the grip you had on his shaft and quickened your rhythm making him pant audibly while you kept the rose against his tip, moving it in gentle circles with your mouth.

His moans and whimper echoed into the room with more frequency and urgency and you knew he was on the brink.

You wanted to give him a bit more so you moved the pinky of the hand with which you were kneading his balls lower, pressing it against his perineum and hearing him cry out in pleasure.

“Yesyesyesyes” he whimpered out loud, arching his back and biting his lips before his whole body tensed and he came with a loud melodic moan.

He made a mess all over himself, smearing the outcome of your sins all over the once untarnished white rose and on his perfect skin.

Goosebumps covered his body and he kept moaning while you milked every last drop from his perfect twitching cock.

When you let go of him, you knew he wanted more by the involuntarily and almost unnoticeable thrusting against nothing of his hips.

His eyes were still closed, trying to calm himself down a little.

You gave him a little more time and in the meantime removed the rose from your lips.

You almost moaned at the sight of the white rose petals slightly crushed and dripping with his pearlescent cum. You wanted him to see that too.

“Joshua, look at this” You whispered and you saw his shake his head a little.

“Just give me a minute, baby.” he answered, still out of breath.

“I want you to look at me now.” You said again, sounding a little more commanding.

His eyes opened but when you turned the flower towards him and he saw it, tarnished and dripping, he immediately squeezed them shut, cursing out loud.

“Open your eyes, baby. I want you to see how perfectly your cum matches the color of this rose.”

When you were sure you had his attention you brought the flower to your lips and licked a drop of him from a petal before dropping it on the bed next to him.

“And you taste divine, as always.” You said , moving to straddle him and bending down to kiss him.

He tasted himself in the kiss and moaned, giving your lower lip a gentle bite.

“Angel, please untie me. I wanna love on you all night” he begged you, pouting slightly.

You kissed his lips briefly and then lowered yourself to speak into his ear.

“Your angel is not even nearly finished with you tonight.” You said and you felt him audibly gasp when you started circling the pad of your forefinger against the special sensitive spot right under the tip of his cock that was laying spent on his tummy.

It twitched to life again and you moaned lightly at the sight.

He watched as you slowly caressed it with your fingers but when you started massaging his slit he let his head fall back against the pillow in pure bliss.

He was completely at your mercy and it was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen.

You separated from him and kneeled at the foot of the bed where you could admire him in all his glory.

Your next order echoed into the room crystal clear.

“Now, Josh, I want you to spread those legs and let me see what's mine.” You commanded while watching, rapt in pleasure at how his cock twitched again.

“Fuck” he whispered. His chest started rising and falling rapidly and goosebumps covered his entire body.

He slowly bent his legs, dragging his feet close to his body, and spread his knees wide open exposing himself to you completely.

“Good boy, all spread open just for me.” You whispered and crawled towards him.

“Look at me, baby, I want you to watch me when I make you cum again” you whispered, lowering yourself and licking a slow broad stripe on the underside of his cock while keeping eye contact with him.

You let a drop of saliva fall from the tip of your tongue right on his dick and started stroking him gently while you kissed and lapped at the base of him.

He felt so warm against your tongue that your mouth watered even more at the feeling.

You let saliva drip out of your mouth again, but this time it coated his tense balls making them glitter into the low white light coming from outside.

You watched him in the eyes when you let your tongue massage them for a while and you winked at him when you moved your mouth even lower.

When you sucked gently at the little spot behind his balls he cursed loudly tugging at his restraints and making the headboard rattle against the wall.

“Please” a single plea left his bitten lips and you took pity on him.

When your warm tongue caressed his tight velvety hole for the first time that night, a loud euphoric moan rumbled out of his throat making your toes curl.

With your free hand, you gripped the back of one of his thighs, spreading him a little more and then you started licking at him more fervently, reveling in the beautiful relieved sounds that were leaving his lips.

You were downright slobbering all over him and the more you pressed your tongue against his hole, the more your need to absolutely ruin him grew.

When you stopped licking at him and moving your hand that was still around his cock, a pained wail left his mouth.

“You better brace yourself, saucy little minx, I'm about to fucking ruin you and your perfect makeup” you whispered against his lips before pushing two of your fingers into his mouth.

“Yes, please, baby, make a mess of me” He moaned around them, hollowing his cheeks and sucking on them sloppily and greedily.

When you removed them from his mouth, a thin trail of spit was connecting them to his lips and you moaned at the sight.

You dragged those fingers slowly between his legs and he cursed when you swirled them around his hole.

His head fell back against the pillow when you grabbed the almost ruined rose that was still dripping with cum from the bed and started stroking the head of his cock with quick circular movements of your wrist.

He moaned out a curse when you pressed the tip of one of your fingers inside him and immediately begged for more.

“To the knuckle, baby please, I'm ready” he whimpered and tugged harshly at the silk scarf around his wrists when you obliged in a swift motion.

His jaw went slack in a silent scream and his body started shaking when you curled your fingers upwards.

“Another?” You asked and he nodded unable to speak.

That time a loud drawn out moan left his perfect plump lips and his cock twitched into your hand.

You set a steady pace and you saw his body relax completely into your touch.

You were sorry for whoever had a room right next to yours because the sounds of pleasure leaving his mouth were incredibly loud and absolutely unmistakable.

After a while you heard him whisper something but you didn't understand so you asked him to repeat.

“Please, baby, another” he whimpered, biting his lower lip and pleading you with his eyes.

You kissed his knee and obliged, spitting onto his hole and adding a third finger.

A loud curse echoed into the room together with lewd wet sounds.

The sight of your fingers disappearing inside of him rhythmically and the feeling of his muscles tightening around your fingers awoke a feral desire into your chest making you set a punishing pace and curl your fingers repeatedly.

At that moment you buried your face between his legs sucking his balls into your mouth and massaging them languidly with your tongue while your hands were busy making him lose his mind.

When you felt his balls tighten into your mouth and your ears filled with whiny pleas and curses you knew he was close.

The rhythm of the hand that was stroking him quickened and the rose shattered between your fingers while he arched his back violently.

He almost convulsed on the bed when your fingers hit that special spot repeatedly and consistently deep inside of him, pushing his hips against your hand, countering your thrusts.

His thighs even threatened to close and trap you inbetween them.

Finally, with a high pitched moan, he came all over your hand and his chest.

You let go of his balls and you watched with rapt attention as he abandoned himself to the throes of utmost pleasure. It looked like his orgasm was never-ending.

You kept moving your fingers inside of him and your hand around him until he started squirming away from your touch.

He kept his eyes shut, panting heavily with a blissed-out expression on his face and a peaceful smile on his lips.

You removed your fingers from inside him making him hiss at the loss of your warmth and quickly crawled towards him to untie his wrists.

He groaned when his arms started prickling. You massaged his reddened wrists for a while and then lay down next to him.

In the low light filtering through the windows you had failed to notice that his once perfect makeup was now ruined. Little black tears were wetting and streaking down his flushed cheeks, blending perfectly with the remaining rhinestones that still clung to his skin.

The fact that he hadn't said a single word yet was worrying you a little so you wrapped yourself around him. You started placing kisses on his cheeks, nose and forehead tickling him and making him finally laugh, a little out of breath.

“Are you ok, sweet boy?” You whispered onto his lips and he sighed contentedly.

After a long while he finally answered.

“I think you fucked my brains out, baby. I don't have a single thought in this head.” He whispered, chuckling and knocking on his forehead with his knuckles.

“But one single thing I know for sure. I won't be able to see white roses the same way after this. That was incredibly hot.” He confessed after a while, stroking your back gently.

“We should probably go clean up.” You said, sitting up on the bed and observing his abdomen, still adorned with streaks and drops of cum and white petals.

“You are right, angel, let me go fill the jacuzzi.” He said, trying to stand up. You stopped him with a hand on his chest and without warning you kissed him passionately.

“It's ready since the concert ended.” You whispered and he sighed relieved, thanking you with another kiss.

An indefinite amount of time passed and you were still in bed almost falling asleep with your head on his chest when a low chuckle startled you.

“Why are you laughing?” You asked a little confused.

He chuckled again and then answered you, smiling like a dork.

“You know angel, I'm just glad I didn't decide to throw cactuses to the crowd.” He confessed making you laugh out loud.

_______________________________

Taglist:

@gvfpal @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jessicafg03 @doodle417 @hellowgoodbye @ejoygvf @jaketlover @jakekiszkasbabymama @objectsinspvce @indigostreakmorgan @witchofendora @myleftsock @gretavanshmeat @gretasfallingsky @giraffehippy @jennasometimesreads @katiegvf @sinarainbows @laney_gvf @themorningbirds @starcatcherchords @lipstickitty @meetingthestardust @joshskittytickler @livkiszka @twistedmelodies @ignite-my-fire @gvfmarge @writingcold @brujamagik @edgingthedarkness @gold-mines-melting @mindastreamofcolours @blacksoul-27 @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @mapelsyrup07 @klarxtr @takenbythemadness @peaceloveunitygvf @lyndz2names @jazzyfigz @its-interesting-van-kleep @katuschka @fleet-of-fiction @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @hollyco @i-love-gvf

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Twenty

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Alcohol use

Playlist | Masterlist

Tag List: @jazzyfigz @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar @dannys-dream @gretavanfan @do-it-jakey-baby @gvfpal @ignite-my-fire @gardensgatekeeper @torniturntomyarrow @dannythedog

A/N: sorry to keep you all waiting :)

It felt like you’d time traveled back to the fall, back to the parties and the falling-in-love, as you got yourself ready for the show. Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands shaky with nerves as you perfected every strand of hair in the mirror. Was your outfit cute enough? Did your makeup look nice enough? Would anyone think your necklaces were cute? Should you take these earrings off? Your mind ran a mile a minute, anxiety coursing through your veins as if you were about to go on a first date with the man of your dreams.

Sam would be knocking on your door any minute to take you over to the house. It’d been a beautiful day, the weather still nice enough to walk even as the sun dipped below the horizon. When the knock finally came, you could feel your blood pressure rising by the second. You opened the door, greeting Sam with a hug, your arms scraping against the sequined fabric of the jacket he wore. His chest was bare, his collarbone bearing a mark you’d left who-knows-how-long ago.

“You might wanna cover that up,” you said softly, trailing your fingers over it.

“Why? It’s kinda rock and roll, don’t you think?” He gave you a half-smile, before taking your hand and leading you out of the building.

The smell of summer was on the warm breeze that blew between the buildings. Music thumped loudly from every other house on the block, rings of lawn chairs and piles of cans decorating most yards. Despite the residual aches in your heart, and the anxiety that still gnawed at the back of your mind, things felt alright.

The two of you finally strolled up to the house, cars lining the street outside. The porch was adorned with the usual attention to detail you were used to seeing from the family. A wreath of plastic tulips hung on the door, and the hammock, which had been missing during the winter months, was swapped out for one that bore pastel hues and cream-colored ropes.

Inside, the house was warm with the heat of dozens of bodies. It was just as overwhelming this time as any, and you stuck close to Sam. The brothers were in deep conversation with a group, but they noticed you immediately, cutting off their sentences to greet you.

“You’re here!” Josh exclaimed, stepping around the crowd to pull you into a hug. “I didn’t know you were coming. It’s so nice to see you.” He trailed his arms down to your biceps, giving them a firm squeeze. “You look lovely, as always.”

You blushed a bit as his compliments, his words never failing to warm your heart. “Thank you. You look nice too.” He was dressed in the typical attire he’d wear for shows, tight shiny pants and some kind of eclectic top.

The time before the show passed quickly, almost too quickly, with Sam keeping a distance from you as he mingled with the crowd. You felt a bit lost without him by your side, sticking close to at least one of his brothers, trying desperately to contribute something to the conversations with strangers. When it was time, you followed the crowd out to the garage, sitting in the grass nearby and watching as the group set everything up, testing their instruments, tuning, checking that everything was right.

You stayed off to the side as the rest of the partygoers filed out from the house, drinks in their hands, smiles on their faces as they waited to hear the band play. It was a great show, every attendee grateful to hear them playing in a more raw, real format than their usual performances at bars. Every song had you captivated, and you even knew some of the words by this point.

In the middle of a song, one you hadn’t heard before, you were struck by something you hadn’t felt before. A realization, or perhaps an intuition. These four, what they were doing here, it was going to be big. Far bigger than what it was right now, jamming for free to an audience of a few dozen. You could almost see it, like a vision, them on a stage far bigger than this. Hundreds, thousands, maybe even tens of thousands, lining the stands and knowing every word. You couldn’t place it, couldn’t put words to it if you’d tried, but you just knew. They had something going here. Something very, very special.

Your eyes were fixed on Sam the entire time. The way he moved his body, the way his fingers moved, every expression he made, it was all entrancing to you. When he came bounding over to you after the show, glistening with sweat, it took every ounce of willpower in your body not to pounce on him like a feral animal.

“Did you like it?” He asked, a bit breathless. “The new song? I don’t think you’ve heard that one yet.”

“I loved it! It was so, like…different. I don’t know how to describe it.”

He talked at you for a while about it, getting into the technical details, and the things that inspired it. Though you only understood a solid half of what he was saying, you listened intently, hanging off of every word. You felt blessed to simply be in his presence, to be able to talk with him like this. It had been a while since the two of you had felt so normal.

A small part of you wanted to take Sam’s hand in yours and drag him back to his bedroom. But another part, the more sane part, wanted to stay right here. In all honesty, this was enough. Just being able to talk with him, under the dusky sky, both of your voices raised above the commotion around you, was like a piece of heaven. Eventually, the two of you wandered back inside, to the comfort of the living room and the brief silence while everyone else was outside.

“So, there’s something I want to tell you, but I swore I wouldn't tell anyone,” he said, his tone far too nonchalant, as he handed you a drink he’d just finished making for you in the kitchen. “Can you keep a secret?”

You gave him a quizzical look, your head cocked to the side. “A secret? Are you sure you should trust me with it?”

He nodded. “I feel like I have to tell you, or I’m gonna explode.”

“Alright. Lay it on me.”

“Well…” He suddenly looked very nervous, his fingers fidgeting with the condensation-soaked glass in his hands. “Nothing’s official yet. And I don’t really know the ins and outs of it all. But we’re pretty sure Jake’s going to land us a record deal. Soon.”

“That’s incredible news, Sammy! Congratulations!” You reached a hand out, resting it on his knee and inching a bit closer to him.

“Yeah. I don’t really know what the whole thing means, to be honest with you,” he said with a short laugh. “That’s not really my wheelhouse. That’s all Jake’s side of the ship. But if all goes well, we’re gonna go record some shit. An actual album, not just recorded in someone's basement.”

“Are you serious?” You ask with a wide grin, excitement welling up in your body. “I can finally force everyone to listen to you guys?”

“Yeah, I expect to hear our shit blasting from your headphones at every opportunity.”

“I can do one better. I’ll walk around campus with a stereo on my shoulder playing it.”

The two of you exchanged a laugh, and for just a moment, things felt entirely normal. But he spoke again.

“So, the plan is, after the album, and once summer break comes, we…want to tour. For a while. At least until next semester.”

“A tour?” Your stomach sank, your palms started to sweat, and you felt a bit dizzy. You slumped back down against the couch, your mind racing. In the back of your mind, you always knew this was a possibility. You'd feared it a bit, prayed this day would never come, when you'd be left behind while the closest friends you'd ever known went gallivanting across the country.

“Yes. I…we’ll be gone for a few months, at least. Jake is already making lists of venues he wants to play. We’ll just barely be making a profit, but we have to get our name out there. Nobody knows us outside of this dumb little college town.”

The question hung in the back of your throat, unsaid yet screamed in your mind so loud you could scarcely hear anything else. When it finally came out of your mouth, it was weak, defeated. “Can I come?”

Sam’s smile faded, his expression stony and unreadable. “I don’t know.” It seemed like there were a thousand implications behind those three words. A million more words behind them that couldn’t be said out loud, but passed between the two of you like some kind of mental tennis match.

You knew better than to push it any further, so you left it alone. Took his answer at face value for now, to be addressed at a later time. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to come with, but with the way things were, it surely wasn’t a good idea. The two of you shouldn’t even be talking like this at all. It was like you’d completely forgotten about your promises to forget each other, forgot about your willingness to be alone and heal. The pull to be in the same place at the same time, in whatever form that took, was too strong.

The silence between the two of you was heavy and long, and you were certain you would have stayed that way forever if Danny hadn’t come crashing through the door soon after. He looked between the two of you, a smile on his face and a drink in his hand.

He gestured between you and Sam, his every movement conveying just how wasted he was already, somehow. “Hey. You two friends again, or what?”

You and Sam stumbled over each others' words, rushing out hurried and half-sensical explanations. Danny only stared with wide eyes as you both tried to explain, told him to leave, told him to stay, argued and agreed all at once, your voices tangling into a loud mess of chaos and hand gestures.

“Jesus. Sorry I asked,” Danny said, backing his way slowly out of the house, his hands raised in defense.

When he was gone, and silence fell on the room again, you heard a sound. The sound of muffled, stifled laughter. Your eyes landed on Sam, his hand thrown across his mouth, his eyes squinted as he held back a laugh.

“I think we scared him,” you said, the hint of barely-suppressed giggles tainting every word.

The two of you burst into laughs, the kind where you were both grabbing each other for support, doubled over, one hand on your stomach.

“Did you see his face? God, we need to go say sorry or something!” Sam said, gasping for air between every word.

It wasn’t all that funny, but that only seemed to make it even more funny in your head. That, and the absurdity of the whole situation. You felt like you hadn’t been able to feel joy in weeks now. This was like a blessing, a glimpse of heaven, a vision into what could be and what will never be.

“So are we friends again?” You asked, wiping a tear from your eye as the last of the giggles died down.

“Good question. I guess…I want to say that’s up to you, but…” he trailed off, unsure of what exactly he was trying to say.

“I just want you to be happy.”

“I am. I'm very happy. But I worry.” The rest of his sentence went unsaid, but you knew him well enough to know exactly where his worries lied.

“Well, I should go,” you said quietly. “I should get home before it gets too late.”

You started to stand up from the couch, but his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with gentle, calloused fingers.

“Don’t. Stay.” There was a pleading edge to his words, and it pulled at every single string of your heart.

“Sam, we can’t. We can’t keep doing this,” you protested, though making no move to pull away. “It’s not good for us. We shouldn't even be talking.”

“I know, I know, it’s just…I have nobody else.”

“You have your family. Your friends. You have to let me go. You can’t keep pulling me back, not after what I did.”

“But, I…”

You could see the conflict in his eyes, the painful internal struggle he was facing. The two of you were caught in some kind of cycle. He needed you, he wanted you, he would die for you. You needed him all the same. But you’d hurt him, betrayed him, lied to him. And he’d made his own share of mistakes. You both kept saying you needed time, telling yourselves you had to get away from the other, but you could never run away. You’d always circle right back to each other. You would protest, say you shouldn’t, say it’s bad for you, but it was impossible to resist the temptation.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he said, releasing his grip on your wrist.

You sat back down, despite your better judgment. “I don’t know either.”

“God, you’re just so beautiful, it hurts to look at you sometimes.” He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s like torture, seeing all those feelings behind your eyes, knowing there’s nothing I can do to fix this easily.”

“Maybe we should stop trying to fix it.” You shifted a bit closer to him, and the scent of him was intoxicating. “Maybe we should actually stick to the plan. No contact.”

“You know we can’t do that.” His hand came to rest on your thigh, his touch electric.

“Then…what are we supposed to do?”

“Same thing we always do, I guess.”

The rest of the night was lost in a tipsy, pleasure-clouded haze as he whisked you up to his bedroom. Hours later, there you lay, naked with him, your body battered and sore in the best way. It was a classic tale at this point, the same one every week. It felt too good to stop it, you needed him too much, your resolve was too weak to tell yourself no. But it wasn’t hurting anything, was it?

When you fell asleep in his arms, you had to wonder if this was all that bad. Breaking your own rules couldn’t possibly be such a grave sin if it felt this good. Though you had to wonder if this was it, if it would get any better than this. The mental gymnastics, the constant emotional agony, was that really all you had in store? Although, if it would end like this every time, there were certainly worse ways to suffer.

* * *

You were gone, back in your dorms. Sam had driven you back early, demanding that you get some rest and relaxation with what was left of your weekend. He’d returned back to the house, under the guise of going back to help clean up, though his motives were far from that. He crept into the house quietly, waiting patiently to see who would be awake upon his return. On the couch, Jake sat, his feet up on the coffee table in the small space he’d carved out from the piles of cans and cups. A bloody mary was in his hand, half-drank, the garnishes all still uneaten.

The two eyed each other for what felt like hours, not speaking. Since the fight, they’d avoided each other a bit more. There had been disagreements like this in the past, sure, but nothing like this. This was uncharted territory, and neither brother knew how to navigate it. Sam knew he needed to talk to Jake. It was the entire reason he’d come back to the house today at all. But, god, was he dreading it.

Jake spoke first, his voice quiet and level. “Do you want to talk?”

Sam nodded, sitting down on the chair beside the couch. He was every emotion but relaxed in this moment. “We should.”

“Well, first off, sorry I decked you.”

“Sorry I started it.”

Jake cracked a half-smile, taking another sip from his drink. “Mom would be pissed if she knew we were still fighting like that.”

“Oh, come on. I can’t even remember the last time we did something like that.”

“I’m just glad Danny and Josh were there to break it up.”

“Yeah, we probably would have killed each other.” Sam laughed a bit, though it was an empty sound.

“Alright. Let me say my piece, then you can say yours. Deal?” Jake asked, taking one more sip of his drink and setting it down on the table.

“Go ahead. I won’t interrupt.”

“So, I’m sorry I did all that. I…genuinely didn’t realize at the time that you and her were so serious. And I’m not lying. I knew you guys were close, and I had my suspicions, but I hadn’t had any, uh, proof until that night.”

Sam had plenty he wanted to say in return, but kept his mouth shut, biting at the corners of his lip to keep himself quiet.

“I got a little possessive. Maybe…maybe even a little jealous. I should have just tried to clear things up before I got mad. She’s just such a catch, you know? But she doesn’t want me like she wants you. And I have to respect that.” Jake took a pause, breaking eye contact to stare down at his hands, rubbing his fingers against a callus. “I figured she was only using me to get to you. Or to make you mad. That pissed me off. But she’s a good girl, and I don’t think she was acting with deliberate malicious intent. She was sad and hurt, because she couldn't have you, and I just happened to be there to help kill the pain. That's not your fault.”

There was a long pause, and Sam realized it was his turn to speak. “But that was pain that I caused her. I should have never put her through all that. I just figured she didn’t like me.”

Jake sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You both fucked up. But it’s not like you were both out here with daggers in your cloaks taking every chance you got to backstab the other. It was poor communication, and what I assume to be bad flirting.”

“Yeah, heavy on the bad flirting part,” Sam smiled to himself. “I have no idea how you do it.”

“I’d teach you, if I thought you’d need to use it. But you’ve already got the girl of the century waiting on your doorstep for you.”

Sam paused, pondering Jake’s words. “Either way, I’m sorry I lashed out. But this seems to be a common thread. I find someone, you end up seducing them, and I lose them. I couldn’t handle the thought of it happening again, especially not with her. She’s different. So I got mad at both of you.”

“I understand that. And though I can put some of the blame on myself, most of it lies with her. She made her bed.” Jake’s tone was nonchalant, but it felt forced. He didn't like this either, as much of your fault as it may be.

“I know. But I can’t live without her, I’m sure you’re able to tell. As much as I wish we could both just forget the whole thing, it’s not possible. She’s…really special to me. I can’t even describe it.”

“I know. I can tell.”

“So I have to be able to fix this. There has to be some way. I’ve been agonizing over it for weeks now, and nothing seems good enough. No apologies or cute dates will ever put us back to the way we were before.”

Jake thinks for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “No, you can’t go back to the way you were before. But that doesn’t mean you can’t move forward. She never meant to hurt you. And even if she did, she regrets it, and it will never happen again.” He draws a breath, locking eyes with Sam, his gaze stern. “You don’t have to worry about me. I want the best for you, and for her. She deserves it.”

“I know, I agree with everything you’re saying. But I don’t know what to do.”

“The way I see it, you’ve got three options.” Jake held up three fingers, counting each one off as he spoke. “One, you’re going to cut her off and pretend she never existed. Move on with someone else, someone you don’t have history with. Leave her here while we’re on tour. Two, you’re going to continue this dumb little game you’re playing with her, and break both of your hearts in the process. Or three, you’re going to man the fuck up, talk it out, get over what happened, and ask her to date you.”

Sam mulled it over for a long time. Jake's words were harsh, but he was saying what needed to be said. There was, really, only one way out of this. “But what about the tour? If I ask her to date me, I’ll just have to leave her again in a month, anyway.

“Then bring her with us. If we take the deal, there would be room in the back for one extra person. Wouldn’t hurt us at all, and I’m certain Josh and Danny wouldn’t mind. And if they do, they can tell me, and I’ll tell them to fuck off.”

“And what if she says no?”

Jake shrugged. “Then at least you did everything you could.”

Sam was silent for a bit, thinking it over, weighing his options.

Jake spoke first, his words slow and calculated. “There’s one thing I know for certain. If she’s still willing to try, after all of this, after everything the two of you have gone through, you need to take that chance. She loves you. She seriously loves you. Don’t let this be the biggest regret of your life, Sammy.”

[shimmerwindow]

alright im sick of wallowing in self pity im gonna put on some ethel cain and write some fucking words

[shimmerwindow]

how to defeat writers block no glue no borax

[shimmerwindow]

I miss your writing!

and i miss your reading 💔 i've been so busy lately (im going to 10 shows) and i haven't had a single moment to write! i'll most likely be back to it when may is over. love you guys 💚

[shimmerwindow]

hi pookies, i think i might take a short break from inr! i've been a bit burnt out for it lately and the next chapter is just NOT coming to me. i swear i will finish it, don't worry, i just have some other projects i want to focus on and put out sooner!

love you guys and thank you for your patience ❤️

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Nineteen

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Marijuana use

Playlist | Masterlist

Tag List: @jazzyfigz @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar @dannys-dream @gretavanfan @do-it-jakey-baby @gvfpal @ignite-my-fire @gardensgatekeeper @torniturntomyarrow @dannythedog

To your absolute dismay, it no longer felt right waking up in Sam’s bed. You felt guilty, somehow. Immediate anxiety flooded your veins the moment sunlight hit your eyes and you rolled over to stare at his sleeping form. He was already awake, godlike and radiant with the light of the sun playing off specks of gold in his eyes.

Motions that had once felt so natural felt odd and foreign to you now. You had become so used to waking up next to him, and he would wrap his arms around you, and you would curl your body against his chest to revel in his warmth. The embrace of his arms never came, his hands tucked beneath the pillow. You were wracked with guilt, certain that you should have never spoken to him last night. Tears were already threatening to fall from your eyes before a word had even been spoken between you.

“We should probably talk,” he rasped, his voice still broken from sleep.

“Right now?” You weren’t sure you had the capacity to have this discussion, especially immediately upon waking up.

“Maybe not this very second. But some time today.”

It felt like you were about to be scolded by your mother, or berated by your boss. Your anxiety over this situation ran so high for a moment you thought you might actually vomit, but you managed to hold yourself together. “I’m sorry,” you said, tears spilling from your eyes and your head starting to ache. “For…everything.”

“Save it.” There was fire behind his eyes, a flame you’d seen many times before, when he was annoyed with his brothers or frustrated over school. He was actually angry with you, something you’d never seen before, and it scared you a bit. Not that you were frightened of him, but you were frightened of what it would mean for your future, what it would mean for you. “We’ll talk later. In my room.”

The remainder of the morning whisked by through your tear-blurred vision. He checked to make sure the house was empty before rushing you outside, out to his car, and back to the dorms. As you closed the front door behind you, you had taken one last long look at the inside of that house. It would likely be the last time you’d see it, with its creaky floorboards, chipped paint, eclectic furniture, and welcoming aura. A piece of you would remain there forever, and you knew that.

He ushered you up to his room, though with how high your nerves were, it felt like you were being escorted to the electric chair. You may as well have been – to live without him was a metaphorical death sentence. His dorm had gone through some changes between semesters, adopting his typical maximalist style more so than before. Posters you recognized from his room at the house adorned the walls, and the window sill was lined with as many plants as it could hold, all of them lush and green.

“I hate to say this,” he began, taking a seat in the corner of his bed with his back against the wall. He picked up a lighter that had been stashed on top of the soil of one of the plants, fidgeting with it. “But I’m more disappointed that you lied to me than anything.”

You sat across from him, as far away as possible, and you realized why this felt so familiar. Your positions now were identical to the way you'd sat with him the last time you’d had a conversation of this nature. Full-circle, as always. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re sorry, but…” he sighed, eyes trained on the little pink plastic lighter as he twirled it between his fingers. “Sorry won’t fix this.”

“What about you?” You couldn’t fight the urge to immediately go on the defensive. “You were with that other girl last night. Had you still been talking to her the whole time I thought it was just me and you?”

“No, actually.” He looked at you, and you could see truth in his eyes. “Hadn’t talked to her in ages. Probably shouldn’t have called her at all.”

“We all make mistakes.”

“Mistakes?” He scoffed, turning his eyes away from yours. “Is that what you’d call it? A mistake?”

You realized he wasn’t talking about his own actions. “Listen, I know you’re not happy with me. But why are we talking about this at all? I fucked up, and I know that. So we should just drop it, drop all of this, drop each other.”

“You know neither of us can.”

“Maybe we should learn, then.” You spoke softly, hoping your voice would not reach your own ears.

“Or maybe, we could just…keep some distance.”

“How are we supposed to do that?”

He pulled his shirt collar aside, scratching at his shoulder. Just to the side of his collarbone, a circular bruise had blossomed, in the shape of your teeth. The sight of it made you ache, a feeling you knew would not be sated for a long time – if ever again. He didn’t respond, clearly trying to gather his thoughts, yet failing.

“I’m not tainted, you know,” you mumbled. “I’m not ruined because I…did that. And you’re not innocent, either.”

“I know you’re not. It’s about the trust. You lied to me.”

“You never made it official.”

“I didn’t think I needed to.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And you made it clear you wanted to wait, anyway.”

It dawned on you that perhaps you’d also been the one to put him in a difficult position. To expect him to stay perfectly faithful, when you had betrayed his trust and lied to him about it, was incredibly unfair.

“And I didn’t think about it from your perspective.” He fidgeted nervously, trying to work it out in his head. “It probably looked like I was leading you on. But I didn’t realize you’d go running to the one guy I kinda made off-limits to you. But, also, it was unfair to make someone off-limits to begin with.” He shrugged, twirling the lighter between his fingers.

“We’re both guilty.” You stared down at your hands in your lap, your eyes tracing over the remnants of the scar still present on your palm. A reminder of the love you’d shared so briefly, much more permanent than the finger-sized bruises on your hips.

“Space, then. We need to step back.”

“God, I don’t want to do that.” You whined it like a petulant child, squeezing your hands into fists.

“Do you love me?” He turned to face you, his eyes boring deep holes into you. With the gloomy sunlight hitting him, you could see the bruise on his face much more clearly. His brow was still a bit swollen, the remnants of a dark circle present in the yellowish color marring the space under his eye.

“I do.”

“Then we need to.” He held out his hand for you to take, entangling your fingers gently. “I can’t lose you permanently. Take some time to heal and I’ll do the same.”

The idea that you had to heal from anything – especially the wounds you gave each other – was mortifying. It brought you to tears, though you had none left to let fall.

“How am I supposed to live like this?” You asked.

“When you figure it out, let me know.” He tried to give you a smile, though it didn’t convey anything but sadness. “We just have to suck it up. No contact. I won’t text you, and you won’t text me.”

“No more walking to class together.”

“No more dinners together, either.”

“What if I run into you at the plant sale this week?” You said, a smile forcing its way to your lips.

“Just pretend I’m not there.”

* * *

The two of you managed to successfully avoid each other, for the most part. For a week, you didn’t see much of him, only the occasional glimpse between classes as you passed on the walkways. You’d always pretend as if you hadn’t seen each other. It was painful, but less than you'd anticipated, in all honesty. It was not a soul-crushing sadness that consumed you, but something more like a sense of relief. It was nice to finally prove to yourself that you would be okay without him, and to finally have time to reflect on your actions.

You were able to admit to yourself that you had, in fact, slept with Jake as some form of revenge. It hadn’t been conscious at the time – you'd been so deep in lying to yourself about everything, it felt natural to add another tangle to the web. But Jake had never been someone you’d wanted to pursue, not until you realized how badly it would hurt Sam if you slept with him. Neither of them had deserved any of it.

By the second week, something started to shift. You’d taken the time to own up to your actions in your own head, and the guilt that once crushed you began to dissipate. When you saw Sam, you’d stop, say hi, make up some excuse to talk – maybe you remembered some random knickknack you left in his room, maybe he remembered you still had one of his shirts, though it was always a lie. And both of you knew it.

At the third week, on one Friday night, he texted you. Something simple, only saying hello and asking how you were. You’d told yourself not to reply, fought with yourself typing and deleting paragraphs declaring your love over and over, until you wrote an equally bland response. Things continued this way for weeks, the occasional talk, the random texts, all of it cordial and simple.

Until one night, when you’d had a bit too much out of the wine you’d snuck into your dorm, and he’d been feeling a bit too bold. You’d texted him something a bit too risky, and within minutes, you heard a knock at your door. That had been the first night you’d broken your own rules, and it seemed to be a constant cycle from there.

Space was not something you could successfully keep. Not when you would “accidentally” run into each other on your way back from class. Not when he would stare at you with those eyes the color of Venus, smile at you with a mouth of perfect teeth and pink lips. Not when you would visit him in his dorm, with the intention to help him with an assignment, a code both of you learned quickly. Every time, it would end with your clothes on the floor, your naked body against his, your head on his chest as he held a smoldering joint between his teeth. Today was one such day.

“We really shouldn’t keep doing this,” he said, absently brushing his fingers through your hair. “Probably not good for us.”

You were quiet for a minute, listening to the crackle of paper burning as he took another hit. “But it’s so nice, isn't it?” You grinned, even though he could not see your face, playing the part of the devil on his shoulder.

“Sure is.”

You watched smoke curl up and away from you, sucked out the window by the gentle breeze. Spring was nearly here, midway into April, the chill finally gone from the air until the next batch of snow came. Spring in the midwest was a fickle thing. It was too cold at night to open your window, but you still always did – there was something about that smell of spring you couldn't resist. The buds on the trees, the first of the flowers poking their heads out of the ground, the birds returning, all of it was breathing new life into you. And, with any hope, breathing something necessary back into you and Sam.

It had been almost a month now of this song and dance between the two of you. It was almost as if nothing had changed, but you came closer to more arguments than before. You never fought, not outright. One of you would always back down before things could escalate too far. In all honesty, you wished the two of you could fight. There were plenty of things you needed to hash out, but you never quite could bring yourselves to bring it up. You’d both call it protecting your peace, but it felt like you were only doing more damage. You’d talked it all through to death, your mutual apologies numbering in what felt like the thousands. There were no hard feelings anymore, but the scars still lingered.

They’d started playing shows more frequently as of late. The venues had gotten bigger, cover charges had turned into ticketed events, and on a few occasions down in the city, lines had formed outside. You heard whispers of some guy down in Nashville, something about albums. It was bizarre, and didn’t quite seem to be sinking in for any of you. At the end of the day, Sam was still the wonderful, corny weirdo you’d fallen in love with. Even as you watched from the wings while women and men alike screamed and cheered for him and his brothers. The band even had a name, now. A strange one, but somehow it fit perfectly.

“There’s a show at the house tomorrow,” Sam remarked, his calloused fingers tracing shapes into the soft skin of your back. “Want to come?”

“Of course I do,” you replied. “But will that be…awkward?”

He shrugged, the motion making your head bob a bit. “It wasn’t too bad last time.”

You hadn’t seen the other guys much in the past month, only once, when you’d “happened” to run into them at a bar. The whole space thing between you and Sam had made for an interesting night. The two of you kept an almost ridiculous amount of distance, not even making physical contact once, sitting at opposite ends of the group, barely interacting at all. His brothers hadn’t quite known what to do with the whole situation, all of them glancing awkwardly between the two of you the entire night. Ultimately, they left it alone, knowing better now than to get between whatever you had going.

“I’d have to disagree,” you replied, pulling closer to him.

“For all they know, we’re still on that healthy distance kick.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“You know how I get after your shows.”

“I’m well aware.” He laced his fingers into your hair, absently playing with a few strands. “What is it about that, anyway? Does people screaming the wrong lyrics get you going or something?”

You laughed in sync with him, rolling off of his chest to lay on your elbows, looking at him. “It’s your hands, mostly. The way your fingers move…” you imitated the way his hands would fly across the strings of his bass.

“Really? These things?” He held the joint between his teeth and wiggled his fingers at you. “All calloused and fucked up?”

“That’s the best part,” you grumbled.

“Guess I just don’t get it.” He reached behind him to stamp out the end of the joint, every curve in his body a masterpiece to your eyes. “So are you coming to the show or not?”

You pondered it for a moment, turning the idea over in your head. It seemed like a perfect recipe for disaster. But the days were getting longer, the sun shining warmer on the days it didn't rain, and a part of you was aching for a drunken night of music and joy. “Sure,” you sighed. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

[shimmerwindow]

One update for Sammy birthday???? 👀👀👀

i rly tried but i'm totally stuck right now 😞 working my hardest for you guys i promise!!!

[shimmerwindow]

just a heads up for inr readers - the upcoming chapters will likely take longer than normal to come out. i've been 3 chapters ahead of release throughout this entire fic, but i'm now caught up with myself.

we're getting closer to the end, and i want to make these last ones PERFECT. so please forgive me if they take 2 or 3 weeks instead of 1 like usual 🙇🏻‍♀️

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Eighteen

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Angst, alcohol use, smut

Sexual content: Fingering n' fuckin. (it's a quick one)

Playlist | Masterlist

Tag List: @jazzyfigz @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar @dannys-dream @gretavanfan @do-it-jakey-baby @gvfpal @ignite-my-fire @gardensgatekeeper @torniturntomyarrow

“Are you busy tonight?” Josh’s voice was cheery on the other end of the phone you held to your ear. “You should come out with me and Danny!”

You had no desire to leave your dorm whatsoever. You hadn’t felt the need to leave, except for classes, for the past two weeks straight. Most of your free time was consumed with sleeping, to avoid the aches in your heart. “I really shouldn't. I’ve got some homework I should catch up on,” you lied.

“That’s what you said last time,” Josh said, sounding a little whiny. “Just come out. You won’t regret it.”

“I can’t. Have a good night, Josh.”

“Wait! Listen, you’ve been cooped up in there for weeks, haven’t you? That’s so terrible for the mind. Just a few drinks, nothing ridiculous, it’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

He’d called you a week ago asking the same thing, but he hadn’t alluded to knowing anything about the situation. You figured he must know, but he was giving you the space to only ask for support if you wanted it. And you didn’t feel like you deserved anything of the sort. “I feel fine.”

“You sound like you’ve spent the whole day fuckin’ crying. Just come out with us. Just for an hour, that’s all I’ll ask.”

He clearly wasn’t going to take no for an answer, stubborn as he was. You wouldn’t be surprised if you said no, he would come knocking at your door within minutes. “Fine. One hour. Then I’m going home.” You figured that was as long as you could hold it together for, anyway.

“Be there soon.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he hung up.

You pulled on something halfway decent-looking, trying your best in the mirror to cover up the dark circles under your eyes. You still looked a mess, but in the dark lighting of a bar, nobody would be able to tell you’d spent the last two weeks crying your eyes out nightly.

You met the two outside, Danny pulling the car around with Josh riding shotgun. You slid into the back, your mind in a daze, still unable to pull yourself out of the fog you’d been in.

“Hey, how ya doing?” Danny asked, turning around to give you a smile before he drove off.

“I’m alright.”

“You sure don’t look it. No offense,” Josh said, turning to face you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “None taken. Life’s been a bit hard lately.”

“I hear that,” Danny replied. “Sounds like you need a drink. Or five.”

“Not too much, now,” Josh said.

“I’m guessing...you guys know…” just attempting to say the words wracked your body with indescribable pain. The two of them stiffened, shifting uncomfortably in their seats. You wished you’d never brought it up at all.

“I mean, we don’t really want to…” Danny started.

Josh picked up where he left off. “If you want to talk about it, we’re here to listen. And help. If you want it, of course.”

“I don’t want to trouble you with all of that.” You waved a hand and offered a weak smile.

“It’s no trouble at all.” Danny flashed a grin at you through the rear view mirror.

“We can talk about it later,” you replied.

Later came quickly, several drinks in, as you and Josh slurred your words and spoke far too loudly over Danny, the only sober man in the room. One hour turned into many, and your heart finally opened, and you began to pour out all of the words you’d let linger inside of you. Voices drowned out most of your ramblings, as did the droning country-pop blaring from the radio.

“They’re both just fucking assholes,” you said with a flourish of your drink, nearly knocking a bystander in the head with it. “Both of them.”

“I don’t think you mean that.” Danny had been attempting to be the voice of reason, though it was difficult while caught between you and Josh.

“This whole situation is fucked up. I don’t get it, why didn’t you just tell Sam?” Josh asked.

“Because I knew he was fucking around with that other girl!”

“So what?” Josh gave an exaggerated shrug. “Fuck her. You deserve him more.”

“I think she was trying not to be a homewrecker, Josh,” Danny said.

“Exactly.” You set your drink down a bit too hard, sending droplets splattering onto your arm. “I really like him, I– I love him, so I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“You didn’t want to hurt him,” Danny began. “So you slept with his brother. Right.”

“Listen, I just thought…” You stopped in your tracks, the weight of your actions washing over you like waves of mercury once again. He had a point you couldn't refute.

“Those two, they’re always, like…” Josh snapped his fingers a few times, his eyes to the ceiling, searching for words. “They’ve got the same taste in women, I think. Causes problems sometimes.”

“Has anything like this happened before?” You asked.

“Not quite this severe.” Danny rested the toes of his shoes against the bar, leaning his chair back a bit. “You’ve got both of them all shook up like I haven’t seen before.”

“They don’t usually fight like that,” Josh added.

“Jake, he had a–” you gestured to your cheek, motioning in the shape of the bruise you’d seen. “Sam didn’t do that, did he?” You weren’t sure whether you actually wanted to know the answer.

The two exchanged glances, and Josh nodded, slowly.

You groaned, running a hand across your face. “Don’t tell me Jake busted Sam’s pretty face, too.”

Josh squinted at you, holding up two fingers in a pinching motion. “A little.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna kill both of them. Fighting over me like fucking cavemen.”

“It’s par for the sibling course, darling. Don’t worry about it too much,” Josh said. “We’ve all taken and given our fair share of ass-kickings.”

“Still doesn't make it right,” you sighed. “I wonder if Sam ever even liked me the way he said he did. Maybe he was just messing around so he could fuck.”

Josh blinked at you. “What on god’s green earth would make you think that?”

“Well, he just…he was able to move on so fast–”

“First of all,” Josh began, “All he’s talked to me about was you for the past fucking month. Also, he didn’t move on.”

“He didn't?”

“Of course not,” Danny chimed in before Josh could speak. “I don’t even think he’s seen anybody else since you. Not that we’ve heard, at least.”

“But I haven't seen him…not even once. Clearly he doesn’t care that much if–”

Josh cut you off with a loud, exaggerated groan. “Why are you arguing?”

“Josh,” Danny urged. “Be gentle.”

“Gentle? I don't need to be gentle. You–” he grabbed your shoulders, his light touch contrasting the edge to his words. “Need to realize that he loves you.”

“We never said that,” you said, struck suddenly by how Josh and Sam shared the same eyes. So kind, and inviting. “We never said I love you.”

“Then maybe you should. Because he's said it about you. Maybe not to your face, but he's made it plenty clear.”

“You just need to talk to him, honestly,” Danny said, gently lifting Josh’s hands from your shoulders. “Have you tried reaching out?”

“I haven’t,” you said, a bit guilty. “I thought that if he wanted anything to do with me, he’d have texted me first.”

“Then that’s exactly what you need to do. Call him, text him, hell – go knock on his door. Talk to him in person.” Danny watched you as your lip began to quiver, thinking about the anxiety of having to address your wrongs straight in the face. “It’s not gonna be easy. But you can’t just let this…fester. You two were made for each other.”

“Jesus, you really think so?”

“Everyone thinks so,” Josh said with a wide smile.

"Even Jake?" Just the act of letting his name grace your lips brought forth an entirely new wave of anxiety.

The two men paused, glancing at their drinks, though the silence was not awkward. "I think Jake..." Josh started, finding the right words. "I think he just wants you to be happy. He didn't really understand what was going on between you and Sam."

"Clearly," you mumbled.

"Jake is a bit territorial," Danny added, spreading his arms wide. "When Jake thinks a girl is his, he takes it seriously. More seriously than he probably should."

"Especially when he's not trying to date anyone." Josh's words betrayed a deeper annoyance, like this exact situation had played out far more than once. "It's partially on Sam for not mentioning how serious the two of you were sooner. But Jake won't sabotage you now that he knows," he shrugged. "But you still need to talk to Sam."

“Fine, then.” You took another deep swig from your drink. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him everything. Tomorrow.”

“Atta girl!” Josh exclaimed, giving you a pat on the back.

“I need a fucking cigarette,” you mumbled.

Outside, the sound from the crowd drained away, only the loudest of shouts and heaviest of glasses clinking audible behind the glass doors to the patio. You were too drunk at this point to keep a steady conversation going, but it was pleasurable nonetheless. Josh and Danny were an incredibly funny duo, and just a few minutes of casual talking had your sides in stitches from laughing.

You felt, dare you say, better. You did seem to have a terrible knack for avoiding talks you didn’t want to have. But Danny and Josh had assuaged those worries that kept you from saying what needed to be said. It was likely mostly the alcohol speaking, but you were feeling confident in your ability to finally speak to Sam. It needed to be done, no matter what. If nothing else, he deserved closure from you. An admission of the truth, straight from your lips.

The three of you couldn’t last long in the cold, huddling together to shield yourselves from the wind that whipped past the nearby buildings. Josh and Danny cracked first, and with a “fuck this,” they headed back into the bar, with you in tow. The two of them had just barely passed through the hallway back into the main section of the bar when they stopped dead in their tracks, so quickly you ran into Danny’s back, bumping your glass on him and sending an ice cube tumbling over the leather.

“Shit, sorry,” you mumbled, peering around both of them to see what had stopped them so suddenly.

It all seemed to happen so fast. Both of them turned around at the same time, stepping towards you, blabbing nonsense about how you should go back outside. But not before you caught a glimpse of the bar, straight ahead. Many unfamiliar faces, among them two you knew. One of which you knew well.

Sam sat at the bar, a drink in his hand, his arm around a girl, who was resting herself against him. A girl you recognized from your worst nightmares, some of which were waking. He was talking to her, a smile on his lips. In an instant, his eyes caught yours through the gap between Josh and Danny’s shoulders. His smile faded, turned into something you’d never seen. Like his lips would never know the sweet feeling of a smile again. And he turned away.

Josh and Danny had to nearly drag you back to Danny’s car, as your legs threatened to give out with every step with the force of your sobs. People stared, whispered at each other under their breath, but you didn’t care. You wished you’d gone blind. Your stomach churned on the ride home as you prayed to any god to turn back time just a few months.

Everything was a blur. You barely processed anything as Josh rubbed your back through your heaving cries, or kind words were offered from Danny when you screamed that Sam never cared about you at all. You wished you were being dramatic, you wished this was all not as serious as you were taking it. You wished you’d never thought of your future with him, that you’d never given yourself the space to hope and dream. The walls he’d broken down would be replaced swiftly, and sturdier than ever, you thought.

Danny, ever the caregiver, sat with you as Josh stumbled his way to bed. He gave you all the blankets you needed to quell the shaking your body refused to quit, as many tissues as you needed to dry your eyes. He listened as you rambled, drunkenly, about the same topics over and over. Rehashing the events of the past months, trying to make sense of it all, trying to find a solution, though there was none.

You'd taken Danny for some kind of frat-boy-type, player, seducer. But sitting in the living room with him, letting him hold your hand for support while he told you everything would be alright, you realized you’d painted him as far too one-dimensional. He was kind, and only wanted the best for you, even though he didn’t know you all that well.

You insisted you didn’t want to be a bother, and that you’d walk yourself home. He physically held you back as you tried to get up from the couch. “Absolutely the fuck not,” he said.

You’d pushed, saying you needed to be alone, you didn’t want to keep anyone up with your crying. “I should just go,” you insisted. “I can't–”

“Shush.” He placed a hand on top of your head, ruffling your hair a bit. “I didn’t bring down all those blankets and pillows for fun. Use them. Go to sleep.”

Sleep seemed like an impossible, far-away pipe dream right now, even through your exhaustion. Still, you were thankful he'd given you a warm place to rest your head, where you wouldn’t be entirely alone. “Thanks Danny,” you said, almost able to force a smile onto your face. “I’m sure I’m being a lot right now. I–”

“Don’t even think about apologizing. You needed a friend, that’s alright. Now go to bed.”

You did as he said, resting your head on the pillows. “Is…is he coming back tonight?” You glanced at the front door.

Danny followed your gaze to the door, looking at you plaintively. “Probably not. And Jake’s gone for at least the weekend. Don’t worry about that right now, though. You’ve been through enough tonight.”

You nodded in agreement, letting your swollen eyes slip shut as Danny turned off the lights. “Sleep well. We can talk in the morning.”

In the darkness, alone, your mind wanted you to think it all over again. You were exhausted, drained beyond belief, unable to even comprehend the events laid out in front of you. It took great effort, but you were finally able to relax just enough to drift into something resembling sleep.

That is, until you heard keys rattling in the front door. You shot up, staring at the door, your heart pounding immediately. Someone was out there. Someone was about to walk in. You prayed it was Jake, prayed he would simply walk right past you with nothing more than a half-smile and a nod. The door opened quietly, and you watched closely at the way the person swung it quickly past the points where it would creak.

Sam stood in the doorway, motionless, the door still open behind him, cold air pooling over you. He said your name, questioning, just barely loud enough for you to hear. You said nothing – what was there to say? You wished he would just ignore you, walk past you, go up to his room and slam the door. Instead, you watched, captivated, as he took his coat and shoes off, locked the door behind him, and sat down on the other end of the couch, cross-legged, facing you.

“Hey,” he said. A forced casualness tainted the word.

“You shouldn’t be doing this.” You meant that. There was no saving what you’d had.

“I know.” He let out a shaky sigh. “I don’t…know what to say.”

You could just barely see him, his features only dimly lit from a light in the kitchen. You pointed to his temple, where the remnants of a bruise darkened his skin. “Jake did that to you. Didn’t he?”

Sam nodded. “Does it look cool?” There was not an ounce of humor in the words.

“Why did you fight over me?”

“Because I thought I deserved you more.”

“You deserve far better than me.”

He tsked his tongue, shaking his head. “I don’t want anything but you.”

“But you were with that girl tonight.”

“Because you’re not mine anymore. Or, I guess, you never were.”

“Fair enough.”

“We never fucking talk,” he hissed. You were sure he would have shouted, if he could. “This is our problem. What we're doing right now. We never just fucking talk to each other. I’ve said it before, and neither of us change it.”

“I thought we were doing alright.”

“But you didn’t tell me you had been fucking my brother on the side.”

“It was twice. And I wanted to tell you, I was planning on it, I just–”

“Why? After everything I told you, why him?” You could see tears in his eyes, glistening against the glow from the streetlights peeking through the curtains.

You took a long pause. You wished there was a better answer, something more concrete or absolute, but the truth was all you wanted to say. “I don’t know. You weren’t there, and he was. It was fucking stupid of me. It wasn’t to hurt you, though. Not consciously. I saw you with her, and I figured there was no way you could want me more than someone who looks like that.”

“Right,” he scoffed. “Sure.”

“I’m trying to talk to you.” Another batch of tears was lining up behind your eyes, though you couldn’t fathom having any more left to cry. “I just want you to know the truth.”

“How am I supposed to trust you? Now, or ever?”

You could only shake your head. “I don’t know.”

“It’s been so hard,” he said, his hand coming to idly rest on yours, splayed out on the couch between the two of you. The simple touch felt like grabbing a fistful of snow with bare fingers, icy and shocking. “I don’t know…I’m just not me without you.”

“I know.” Tears started to fall again, and you didn’t bother wiping them away. Your eyes were already irritated enough from the hours you’d spent sobbing in this very spot. “I can’t bring myself to do anything.”

“What are we supposed to do now?”

“I think we have to answer that ourselves.”

“I just can’t survive without you.” His fingers walked up the back of your hand, wrapping gently around your forearm. “But we’re killing each other. I can’t…” He pulled his hand away, and hesitated. Stillness filled the air when his fingers ran across your cheek, wiping away a tear there. “I can’t see you like this. I can’t do this to you.”

“I can’t do this to you, either.” You mirrored his gesture, your thumb running trails over the tracks of tears on his face.

“Can I…” he shifted, gesturing to you to come closer. Despite your better judgment, you fell heavy into his arms, resting your cheek against his collarbone. That scent again, it hit you like waves, dredging up every hope and every wish you’d fought so hard to bury over the past two weeks. You wished you could lay this way forever, a familiar position you used to adopt when the two of you would lounge in bed together.

“Can we just pretend everything is normal?” You said, with the lightest hint of a forced laugh.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please.” The word was choked, nearly a sob. “Just give me this one night with you.”

“We can’t.” His motions contradicted his words as his hands pulled you closer to his chest.

“Just tonight and then we can both forget.” It stung to say it, like a papercut. “We can forget about each other. I’ll forget about your whole family. It can be like we never happened.”

You heard him suck in a hitched breath through his teeth. With hands that trembled, he cupped the sides of your face and drew you in, stopping short of a kiss. You wanted nothing more than to break past his hands, meet your lips with his, feel every inch of him under your mouth. You needed him more than could be expressed in words or actions, it was far deeper, something soul-crushing and gut-wrenching.

He felt it too. And he was not strong enough to resist. He pulled you in, kissing you, with the fervor of a man who has waited his entire life for this moment. He tasted salty, the taste of your mutual tears collected on the corners of your lips; a reminder of that night at the bar with him, the salt of his neck.

You tried to hold yourself back. You knew you shouldn’t let this go any further, but your hands moved on their own to wrap around his neck. “We shouldn't do this,” you mumbled, peppering kisses along his jaw.

“Then stop.”

You couldn’t, and neither could he. It was so unceremonious, but there was something sacred about your movements. The way he ripped the blankets off of you, the way his hands slipped under your shirt, the way you pulled at his hair and fumbled with the button on his pants. Neither of you needed to ask – you were far past that point. It was all unsaid, as many things tended to be between the two of you. He only needed to give you that look he’d given you however many dozen times in the past, the one that you’d reply to with a nod and dewy doe-eyes.

Things were a blur, hands grasping and fingers trailing over flesh, lips colliding with fervor in dead silence and darkness. You could just barely see his face, but you didn’t need to see much. The sound of his breathing, the scent of his skin, it all led you back home.

He shoved your pants down to your knees, dragging you into his lap, his lips never leaving yours. He shifted your bodies, leaning his back against the couch, straddling your knees on either side of his.

“You always smell so good,” he whispered into the side of your neck. “I dream about it.” He slid a hand between the two of you, running a finger through the wetness already drenching your thighs. “I wake up sometimes and I could swear you’re right there next to me.”

You’d done the same, thought you were crazy for being surprised at the other half of your bed being cold and empty every morning. You couldn’t vocalize it, not when he slid a finger into you and you had to bite down on his shoulder to keep yourself silent. But he could feel it from you, the subtle agreement present in how your nails scratched thin lines into his biceps.

“Is that good?” He asked, his breath warming the shell of your ear.

You let out a muffled mhm, your teeth still sunk into his shoulder. If you hadn’t already broken the skin, you would leave a bruise for certain. He didn’t seem to mind, though.

You trailed your hands over the fabric of his shirt, down to where you'd managed to haphazardly undo the fly of his jeans. You hadn’t realized your fingers were cold until they settled on the warmth of his cock, making him suck a breath in through his teeth and jump back a bit. The two of you stifled muted laughs at the exchange, and even if it was only a glimpse, it was heartwarming to feel a brief moment of humor.

Your bodies moved in time quickly, your hand moving in languid strokes along his cock as he worked you open with his fingers. You didn’t want to wait, having waited long enough, having suffered more than enough lately. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes before you were begging him for it.

He slipped himself into you with little grace or fanfare, desperate for it. You let out a strained breath, watching what little of him you could see in the dark. You weren’t prepped quite enough, the stretch of him knocking the wind out of you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, the word coming out shaky. “You feel better than I remember.”

You let out a downright pathetic whimper, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, your legs already trembling.

“Move.” It was a command, not a request.

It was difficult, trying to force your body to move when each drag of your hips threatened to pull a moan from your lips.

Words piled up behind your teeth when he pulled you closer, his lips dragging across the skin of your neck. Your face buried in his hair, you tried to take all of this in. The silk of his hair against your cheek, the smell of sweat and cologne, the way his shoulders rose and fell with each shaking breath. It was so beautiful, so bittersweet, a gorgeous agony you’d never be able to forget.

“Just say it,” he said lowly. “I can tell you want to say it so just fucking say it.”

“I love you.” It spilled from your lips brutally, the sound crashing against the walls of the room like thrown fine china.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Sam.”

“More.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you, you’re everything to me, you’re my stars, my sky, my universe–”

He wrapped his hands tighter around you, tight enough that you could barely breathe. But you didn’t feel the need to breathe, not when you were filled with him, surrounded by him. Your mind started to unravel, giving in to sheer, untethered bliss. Your eyes slipped shut and in the darkness you could see gold.

“I love you too,” he said, softly, casually, like he’d said it a hundred times. Maybe, in his head, he had.

This couldn't be it. This couldn’t be the last time you’d feel him this way. He broke into a steady rhythm, keeping himself buried inside you for the most part, grinding his hips against you.

You mumbled sweet nonsense against his neck, planting kisses between every word, chanting his name like a mantra in the hopes you might stay this way forever. “I never want you to let me go.” Both physically and emotionally, you meant it both ways.

“I can’t,” he breathed. “I can’t imagine me without you. I can’t imagine the sky with no moon and no sun.”

You exhaled a breathy laugh against his skin. “Still so corny.”

“I know how much you love it.”

You had to fight desperately to keep quiet when his hands wrapped around the bottoms of your thighs, lifting and dropping you slightly with each thrust of his hips.

“Stay quiet, baby. You’re doing such a good job.”

He’d never talked to you like this before, never during sex. This was more than just sex, though. What you were doing was something intimate, something deeper, something you both desperately needed. Some kind of closure, or the opening of another door, you couldn’t tell which one quite yet.

A quiet moan slipped past your lips when his hand dropped down beneath you to press against your clit, the perfect amount of pressure, just the way you liked it. His free hand clasped over your mouth, gentle but forceful.

“Quiet, my love.”

My love.

You were getting close to a peak you knew you couldn't keep silent, waves of it washing over your body and sending sparks down your spine, into the tip of every limb. He pulled his hand away at just the right time for you to warn him.

“Sammy, I’m–”

“I know. I can feel it.” You could faintly hear the rumble of his own groans that he caught in his throat, keeping himself quiet with what seemed like great effort.

“Is it better?” He asked.

“What?” You gasped, your focus faltering.

“Do I fuck you better than he does?”

There was no hesitation. “Much better.”

He pulled back a bit, searching for your face in the darkness, finding it and catching your lips in a kiss. There were so many words unsaid that passed through that kiss, every confession, every lie you’d ever told, it was all so glaringly obvious in the way your lips met.

His fingers were digging in tighter against you, his legs starting to shake with effort. He was just as close as you were, fighting, struggling to hold himself back.

“I don’t think I can– oh, god, Sammy, I can’t keep this a quiet one,” you warned him.

“Me neither,” he laughed, breathlessly.

His hand shot up to cover your mouth as you let out a sound that was far too loud. He, too, grit his teeth against whatever noise threatened to make itself known as both of you tipped over the cliffside of your peaks, together. A groan like a sob tore itself out of his chest and he had to cover his own mouth, his head falling back against the couch.

You held onto his shoulders for dear life as he plunged you down into a world of untethered pleasure, his name falling from your lips even though it didn’t make a sound. Stars exploded across your vision, your legs failing you as all you could do was grind helplessly against him. Your hips moved of their own accord, chasing the remnants of bliss.

His fingers gripped your waist after a moment, stilling your movements. “Stop, stop, oh my god,” he whispered, a desperate edge to his voice from the overstimulation.

There was no rush to separate. Neither of you wanted this moment to end. It was clear this was not something you could stop. Your love was an unstoppable force, and you both were incapable of living without it.

“Did you mean it?” His tone was nonchalant, as if he didn’t care what your answer would be one way or the other.

“Of course I did.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

The question caught you off guard, diving in so deep so quickly as you were still dripping into his lap. Gazing into his eyes, and the profound sadness you found there, you spoke a thousand words all at once. Wanted you, got lonely, took the next best thing. You could see it in his face; he understood.

“We need distance,” he sighed. An ironic thing to say, given where he was mere minutes ago. “If we’re not going to date. If we don’t trust each other.”

“But tonight…?” you didn’t finish the sentence, letting it play out in each of your heads.

He didn’t reply, only lifting you off of him, the two of you haphazardly pulling yourselves back together, and he lead you by the hand up to his room.

[shimmerwindow]

Inr day inr day inr day!!!!

Highlight of my week honestly

THE WAY I FORGOR TO PSOT. i'm uploading it rn i swear SO SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING BEAUTIFUL ANON

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Seventeen

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, brief allusion to suicidal thoughts

Playlist | Masterlist

Tag List: @jazzyfigz @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar @dannys-dream @gretavanfan @do-it-jakey-baby @gvfpal @ignite-my-fire @gardensgatekeeper @torniturntomyarrow

You awoke with an uneasy feeling in your chest. Something didn’t feel quite right, though you couldn’t put your finger on what, exactly. Maybe it was the fact that the daily good morning text from Sam you’d gotten used to wasn’t there. He hadn’t even told you when he’d gotten home last night, like he usually did. You were a bit anxious thinking about it, and the feeling only got worse when he wasn’t there to walk you to class.

By the end of the day, you were starting to feel genuinely nervous. You’d texted him a few times, with no response. He didn’t even read the messages. The sun set, and rose the next morning, with still no sign of Sam. Those nerves turned to a knot of pure anxiety in your stomach. You considered going down to his floor and knocking on his door, but decided against it. That seemed to cross some imaginary line in your mind – after all, it's not like you were dating the man. Maybe he’d been hit with a sudden deadline, maybe his phone was broken, maybe maybe maybe.

The sun was starting to set once again when you felt your phone vibrating on the bed next to you. You grabbed at it so quickly you felt a little embarrassed, turning it over to see the screen. An incoming call from Jake. Your stomach dropped through the floor and your palms started to sweat – something must be wrong. Jake hadn't called or texted you for weeks now.

You answered the call. “Hey, what's up?” You struggled to keep your voice from shaking.

“You’re at home, right?” Jake’s voice seemed equally strained.

“Yeah, why? What’s going on?”

“I’m outside. Come downstairs.”

You stumbled out of bed, grabbing your keys and your coat with shaking fingers. “Why? Have you heard from Sam? He hasn’t texted me all day–”

“He’s fine. But we need to talk.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, worries and relief all at once. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

He didn’t even say goodbye before hanging up the phone. You felt incredibly far away from your body as you speed-walked to the elevator, and down to the lobby. His car was out there, idling in the parking lot. You watched the steady plume of steam crawling from the exhaust be whisked away by the wind as your feet crunched over the snow and ice.

You barely had the door closed before he was driving off, down a road you’d been on once before. You knew immediately, he was taking you to the place you’d last been with him. Glancing at him, you noticed a reddish bruise along the curve of his cheekbone. It looked fresh, the spot under his eye still a bit swollen, marred with the same color. You were thoroughly trembling by the time he finally parked the car.

“So!” he began, his voice loud enough to make you jump, though you were already on edge. “Care to tell me what the deal is with you and Sam?”

Your mouth went dry, and you were suddenly dangerously nauseous. “What do you mean?” Your voice wavered.

“Please, for the love of god, don’t play dumb.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if you were already giving him a headache.

“We’re–” you swallowed thickly around a lump in your throat. “We’re talking.”

“Seriously?” He narrowed his eyes at you, slinging an arm over the steering wheel and turning his body to face you. “Talking? That’s the narrative you’re going to feed me?”

“I just mean, talking as in, like…” you couldn’t continue. You couldn’t quite place what about this conversation was making you so nervous. Jake seemed to cast some sort of aura, one that could so easily impact your mental state. When he was pissed, you could feel it, even without words. But you didn’t have anything to hide. It hadn’t been a secret, though you and Sam had been rather conservative in front of the family. Out of respect, or to hide it, you weren’t sure.

“As in, you’re fucking, right?” Jake said it as more of a statement than a question.

“Well…yeah.” He’d shown you more than enough times that there was no point in trying to hide anything from him. “But I don’t think that’s–”

“Not my business?” He smiled at you, though there was not a glimpse of humor in that flash of teeth. “As if it wasn’t me and you long before him.”

“Why are you so mad? It's been months since the last time. And–”

“And I wasn’t as important, hm?” He turned his palms up in a half-shrug.

“That's not true.” You lowered your voice, averting your gaze. You didn’t actually know if it was true or not. Jake, at the end of the day, had only been a placeholder. A seat-filler, someone to take the place of the one man you thought you couldn't have. It had meant something, but not all that much.

"So, let me get this straight–"

"Jake," you huffed, interrupting him. "Can you just slow down? What the hell is all this even about?" The pieces were starting to fall into place, although your mind would not allow you to even glimpse at the full picture. "Sorry if you heard me and Sam fucking in his room, or something, but you didn't have to drive me all the way out here to scold me for it."

"Alright, alright." He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Let's start at the top. You were with me, now you're with him."

"I haven't been with either of you."

"Sorry, you were fucking me, now you're fucking him. And I don't appreciate that all too much."

You rasped out a sigh, your stress over Sam boiling over into anger, now. "You don't get to dictate who I choose. That's not how this works. Sam already figured that out, seems like you need the same lesson."

"You're misunderstanding me. It's not that, it's because it's him."

"What do you mean?" You shook your head, already exhausted with this discussion.

“So I was just some springboard to get you closer to Sam, right? Just your launch point to reach him.”

“Jake,” you sighed. “It's not that serious. Plus, I didn’t think what me and you had was all that important to you.”

“And why would you think that?”

“Seems like every time I see you, you've got someone new in tow.” You were struggling to contain your anger at this point. “Don’t try to tell me I was anything different than your flavor of the week.”

“It was important, though. And you were the only one…” the anger in his voice faltered a bit. “You were the only one for a while. Until I figured you’d gotten bored.”

“You’re making quite the fuss over a whole two nights, Jake.”

“Two of the best nights of my life, actually.”

It felt like a line he'd said to many girls before you. “Either way, it was twice,” you sighed. “Let it go.”

“We're losing the point here,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t play a part in some jealousy game. And you played me regardless.”

“Jake, I didn’t–”

“It was all just to piss him off, wasn’t it?” His jaw was set, and his teeth bit at the inside of his cheek between sentences. You’d never seen him angry like this. “I don’t appreciate being played like some chess piece in your feud with him. Even if it ended well for you.”

“Please, just listen to me! It wasn’t like that, okay?” You were growing exasperated. “Maybe I had some ulterior motives, but if I did, it wasn’t on purpose. I wouldn’t have fucked you at all if…” you trailed off, stopping yourself before you could finish. You’d just dug yourself another hole.

“If you’d thought you had a chance with him? So I was just the backup? Next best thing?” He shook his head, his eyes looking out at the snow-covered overlook.

“As if I didn’t just happen to be the one easy girl in the room at that Halloween party.”

“You might think I’m just some kind of…womanizer, or something, but you’ve got me all wrong, angel. I liked you. I really liked you. Despite my better judgment, I still do. For you, not for the way you look, like you seem to think.”

“But you didn’t love me.”

"Does Sam love you?"

That question was one you hadn't expected to hear from his lips. You were certain of the answer, despite never having heard it directly from Sam. Every one of his actions was drenched in his love for you. "Of course he does." You said it with complete conviction.

He paused, turning his gaze back to you and letting his hands fall into his lap. “And what if I did too?”

You could feel the magnitude of those words shake through you like an earthquake. He didn’t. He doesn’t. “But you don’t.”

“Love is a strong word,” he sighed. “My feelings for you wouldn’t be correctly described with a word of such weight. But it was certainly more than just thinking you’re hot. Which is why I’m not pleased you made me a victim of your game.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you.” It felt like he was talking you in circles, with no clear goal to his lecturing. “I'm sorry. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have slept with you when I knew how complicated the situation was, and when I knew Sam was the one I wanted the most. I just didn’t think it would end this way.”

“Neither did I.”

“Can we just…forget this? Leave it in the past? And can you please just keep it to yourself?”

“That's the other thing we need to talk about. Too late for that."

Those last four words made you feel like you’d just stepped off a cliff. Your body went numb, your ears ringing yet the world going eerily silent. “What?”

“He knows.”

You opened your mouth, finding the words caught in your throat for a moment. He stared at you in silence, waiting patiently. “No he doesn't,” you said softly.

“I told him.”

You had to fight the urge to reach across the center console and claw his eyes out. After all that talk of how much he liked you, he was more than willing to fuck up the once nice thing you'd ever had in your life. “Jake.” You drew in a shaky breath, trying to keep a level head as rage threatened to overtake you completely. “Why would you tell him? What did you say?” A part of you prayed he was lying, just trying to gauge your reaction as some kind of sick test.

“I wanted him to back off. I'll be honest, I didn’t realize it was so serious between the two of you. I thought he was trying to steal you.”

“Steal me?!” You screamed it at him, finally snapping. “When you– as if I even– god, what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

With every word, his eyes widened a bit, and he shrunk further against his side of the car. “Maybe if you’d told me he was the one you actually wanted, I would’ve never–”

“Was it not fucking obvious?” You ran your fingers through your hair, pulling at the roots, your bottom lip starting to quiver.

“Not to me!” He bit back. “Not to anyone else but the two of you!”

“And that’s why I haven't seen or heard from him for the past two days, right? Right, Jake?”

He shrugged. “Probably.”

“I hope you’re happy.” You jabbed a finger at him, inches away from his face. “I hope this is everything you were hoping for.” Tears welled up in your eyes, and you didn’t bother even attempting to choke them back.

“You’re the one who decided to hook up with me,” he said, gently pushing your hand away from him. “Were you just planning on hiding it forever?”

“I was going to tell him on my own time,” you hissed. “I wanted to be delicate about it. I’m guessing you just screamed it in his face like an insult.”

“Not quite.”

“Did he give you that?” You pointed to the bruise along his cheekbone. “Did he beat the shit out of you for me?”

“Would it make you feel better if he did?”

“I fucking hate that, you know. When you answer my questions with a question.”

“To be honest with you, angel, I don’t really care.” There was a bitter edge to his words now.

“I hate you.” When it left your mouth, you expected to regret it, but you didn’t. Not even a little bit. In this moment, you meant it.

“Good. I deserve it.”

"When did you tell him? What did you say?"

"A couple days ago. Just asked him to back off, and he snapped on me."

You didn’t want to hear another word, your tolerance for him already past its breaking point. You flipped up the hood on your coat, hooking your fingers around the door handle.

"Hey now, hold on–” He reached for you as you made your way out of the car, trudging away from him through the snow. He got out after you, calling your name. “You can’t walk from here!” He shouted at you. “It’s too cold out! You’ll freeze to death!”

“I don’t care!” You called back, not slowing down even as the bitterly cold air whipped against your skin. It was brutal, but you figured you could make it. You heard his car door close behind you, and you kept walking. At this point, you really didn't care.

The mental numbness wore off within a few steps, and it all crashed down on you piece by piece, as if you were slowly being buried by an avalanche. He had ruined everything for you. You felt so fucking stupid, thinking you'd had something worth keeping with this group of brothers. You looked to the horizon, to the dark swell of the road and the mounds of snow pushed aside by the plows. You probably couldn't make it, but you didn't care. With any luck, the snow and wind would swallow you up, and you would cease to exist on this planet anymore. Maybe that would be for the better – none of this would hurt you if you'd never been born at all.

His car started up, and his tires crunched across the snow towards you. You wouldn’t look at him when he slowed to your walking pace and rolled his window down.

“Get in the damn car.”

“No.” You still wouldn't look at him, feeling like a defiant child.

“It’s at least five miles back home. You’re not walking all that way. Get in.”

You knew you couldn’t make it back. But some part of you was too prideful, too ashamed of your own mistakes, too hell-bent on disappearing into the snow to never return, to get back in his car. Even as the wind battered every inch of exposed skin, your fingers nearly numb, you didn’t care. You figured you deserved this, for putting this family through such hell.

He called your name again, more stern this time, in a tone that actually made you stop. “You’re bleeding, by the way. Get in.”

You hadn’t realized, in all your anger, you'd been digging your nails far too hard into your palm, scratching at the half-healed scab there. A single droplet of blood ran down to your fingertip, and you watched it land in the snow, spreading out along the ice beneath. Your tears were nearly frozen to your cheeks when you finally looked at him. It was a look of agony that he gave you, more expression on that face than you’d ever seen before. And it hit you that he didn’t want this, either. Both of you had been trapped. Caught in a place you didn’t want to be in, stuck between two hells. Whichever path both of you had decided to take, it wouldn’t have ended well.

Considering the severity of the bruise blossomed along Jake’s cheek, Sam likely wouldn’t have taken the news well, even if it was from your mouth. Sure, it would have been a more peaceful resolution than flying fists, but you doubted he would be able to forgive you. It was a mistake, a slip-up you should have never made, but it broke many fundamental rules these men seemed to live by. You hadn't really been able to comprehend it at the time – the weight of fucking your crush’s older brother. Put so simply, it seemed like an awful thing for you to choose to do.

“I didn’t want this,” Jake said, his voice wavering. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“Why can’t I just be happy?” You asked, to nobody in particular. “Is this really what I deserve?”

“No. I'm…not happy about any of this, either. But I don’t want you to be damn near killing yourself over it.”

You couldn't think of anything more to say, falling silent as your chest heaved with labored sobs. You stood motionless as you heard his door open and close, and his footsteps on the snow in front of you. The toes of his shoes appeared in your gaze.

“I can’t fix this for you. But I can make it a little easier.”

“How?” You asked, the word exploding from your chest in a gasp.

“I don’t know yet.”

His hand settled on your shoulder, and you felt no need to push him away. He’d fucked up, but in the end, he was right. You were the one who’d decided to sleep with him. You couldn’t blame him for the outcome of your own bad decisions. You couldn’t have possibly expected all of these lies and secrets to hold themselves together forever.

Without thinking, you fell against him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face into his neck, reveling for just a moment in that familiar scent of vanilla. Sobs wracked your body as you hung off of him, wetting his jacket with a torrent of tears. He said nothing more, only holding you gently and allowing you all the time in the world to cry.

“I don’t hate you,” you choked out between gulps of frigid air.

“I know.”

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Sixteen

Warnings: Angst, mentions of sex, physical altercation

Word Count: 3.8k

Playlist | Masterlist

Tag List: @jazzyfigz @dont-go-home-without-me @poochiesworld @stardustcatcher @83rkblogs @jaketsguitar @dannys-dream @gretavanfan @do-it-jakey-baby @gvfpal @ignite-my-fire @gardensgatekeeper @torniturntomyarrow

Life felt, simply, good. Even as the break wound to a close, and the bustle of a new semester began, you felt so uplifted. There had been such darkness clouding your every waking moment until now. You hadn’t even realized it, really. You’d become so complacent with living in darkness that the concept of light had no longer existed to you. Not until Sam had come along, swinging open the doors to your mind and turning on every light in the room.

Sam was back in the dorms, which was a blessing in your eyes. He had your schedule memorized, and would walk you to class any chance he got. There was a bit of conflict with your daily schedules, and you didn’t share any classes, but that was alright with you. Too much of a good thing could always be a bad thing.

Your every-other-day walks across campus with him were always one of your favorite parts of the week, though. While walking recently, he’d snatched your hand, lacing his fingers between yours. You couldn’t help but feel like you were just a kid again, enjoying simple pleasures, even silly little things like holding hands.

And of course, there were the moments when the two of you found yourselves alone. Whether in your dorm or at the house, if you could catch even the slightest glimpse of solitude, you would be all over each other. The moment a door closed or a car pulled away, you would be clawing at each other's clothes, ripping them off, getting up to whatever devious acts you desired that day.

Most weekends you spent at the house, as a reprieve from the soulless dorms. Conveniently, nearly every weekend you were met with an empty house for at least a twenty-four hour period, where the brothers would go gallivanting on whatever adventures they typically got up to. Sam didn’t typically tell his brothers you were coming over. It’ll invite too many questions. They’ll get weird about it. Trust me, he’d told you. They were an odd bunch, and you did, indeed, trust him. You’d see them every once in a while, for a handful of hours at a time, but the house parties were few and far between during this time of year. The “slow season,” they called it.

Today was one of those weekends, a cozy Saturday night. You sat in the living room, watching some mindless TV on mute while he plunked away at the piano in the room over. A light snow was falling outside, and flames roared in the fireplace. He’d made dinner for the two of you, his cooking skills never failing to impress. Tonight’s had been far too spicy for you, but the flavor was so good you hadn’t minded. “We need to build your spice tolerance,” he’d told you, like a drill sergeant talking to a new recruit, while you held a tissue to your watering eyes and running nose.

It’d been close to a month now, since your confession, and everything seemed to be working out beautifully. Jake had called you a couple of weeks ago, asking if you were busy, to which you'd graciously declined. Though if you had been feeling any weaker in that moment, you were sure you would have gone for it. He truly had such a way with words, and was really a master of seduction. But although there was no formal relationship between you and Sam, you felt a certain kind of loyalty to him.

You figured that if either of you wanted to be with other people, it would be allowed. If someone else came along for him, you would not be mad. It would be crushing, sure, but you only wanted the best for him. And you were sure he felt the same, too. But right now, you made each other happy. It was enough without a label.

“Hey,” Sam called, snapping you out of your reverie.

“Yes?”

“Can you listen to this next one?”

“I’m always listening, Sammy.” You repositioned yourself to face him, his face peeking out from behind the piano. “But I’ll listen extra hard for you.”

He smiled at you, turning his eyes back to the keys. He started to play, a soft and delicate melody. You didn’t have the knowledge to describe exactly what he was doing, but it felt light, a bit airy, like springtime. You watched his brows knit in concentration as he pulled notes from the keys, everything executed perfectly. Or at least, it sounded perfect to your ears. It felt golden, circular, the texture of lush grass in a field of flowers. It seemed to bring you back to a place you'd never been before.

You swayed slightly with the beat, your eyes closing as you focused on taking in every drop of sound he ushered to your ears. It was an indescribably beautiful tune, one that felt like it encapsulated love and light. You were struck by just how much you loved him. You hadn’t said it, not out loud, not yet. You were saving it, the two of you moving along at a pace that would be agonizingly slow to anyone else. But it wasn’t bad. Not when it was him. He stopped playing, silence and the crackle of the fire filling the room.

“It’s not finished, and most of it’s just made up as I go, but…do you like it?” He asked.

“I love it. It's beautiful.” You smiled at him warmly, to which he grinned and turned his eyes away.

“I wrote it for you. I know that’s like, super corny, but I just…” He sighed, stretching his arms over his head. “You’re really inspiring.”

“Me?” His words felt like something straight out of a dream.

“Yes, you.” He stood, making his way over to your spot on the couch. “It’s weird, I've never wanted to make music for someone before. I wasn’t sure what to do with this–” he clutched at his chest, miming the action of ripping his heart out. “Like, how do you turn that into music, you know?”

“I do know.” Somehow, you did. You were not musically minded, but you understood every word. It was a language of love.

He wrapped his fingers around your jaw delicately, tilting your face up to catch your lips in a kiss. “Can I tell you something?" He asked.

“Don’t.” You held a finger against his lips. “Save it.” You knew what he wanted to say – the words both of you had been avoiding. I love you.

In the silence that followed, your eyes locked with his, a thousand words went unspoken. Save it for when it’s special. You didn’t mean any harm by keeping that word at bay, and you both knew that. Things were just so delicate at this point, given your shaky past, that it felt wrong somehow to say it. Like sailing on a ship without a name, some kind of bad omen seemed to surround it.

Though, that feeling stemmed from the scars, still healing, that you’d given each other. They were not plentiful, nor were the wounds deep, but they could still be felt. And it all just felt too good to be true. An utterance of a word as powerful as that one felt like it could shatter the both of you. When the dust settled, when you’d confessed to him your dirty little secret, when your work at school was done and you could properly settle into something serious, that was when you would say it.

“Haven’t earned it yet, hm?” He said through a toothy smile.

“No, I’m the one who hasn’t earned it.”

“Can’t say I agree, miss eclipse.” He brushed a thumb over your cheek. “You’re more of a miss sunshine these days, though.”

“That’s a shame. I love the moon.”

“I know you do. It’s a full one tonight. We should go look.”

“It’s so cold, though.”

“There’s a perfect view from my window. Haven’t you noticed?”

You shrugged. “I usually have a much better view when I’m in your bed.”

“And you're usually a bit busy, too.”

You gave him a playful shove, to which he dramatically stumbled backwards. “Wow. My girl, pushing me away like that…guess I’ll sleep alone tonight!” He put on a mock pout and crossed his arms, though a smile threatened to break his act.

“No, please!” You bounded across the room and wrapped yourself around his waist, resting your chin on his crossed arms. “Please find it in you to forgive my transgressions.”

“I suppose I can overlook it this once,” he said, pulling you closer into a tight embrace.

“Speaking of sleep…”

“Tired?”

“A little.”

He tilted your face up to his. “Are you actually tired?”

He could read you like a book. “Not really.”

Taking your hand in his, he whisked you up the stairs, into his room. The minute the door was closed behind him, his hands were on you, pushing you back against the bed.

“Wait,” you gasped, your fingers under his shirt against his waist.

He froze immediately, backing a half-step away. “Did I do something?”

“No, listen.”

You stood in silence for a moment, both of you holding back labored breaths. Footsteps and chattering filtered up through the floor below your feet. The guys were back.

“Well. Shit,” he laughed, backing away from you to lock the door.

“I could, you know…” you splayed yourself out on his bed, stretching your limbs with a sigh. “I could be quiet.”

He cupped his hands around your knees, giving your legs a little shake. “I don't know if you could. Remember your performance at the bar?”

“Okay, but that was different.” You fought back a smile. “I really could.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Tempt you?” You pulled yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of you. “Fine. Come here. We’re just gonna cuddle. Promise.”

“Right, obviously.”

Cuddling was far from the word you’d use to describe how the rest of the night went. You were just barely able to keep your volume down, his fingers clamped tightly around your mouth nearly the entire time to muffle your noises. You weren’t anything near silent when he made you cum, your muffled moans still loud enough to reverberate against the walls.

Although you were certain at least one of the guys had heard you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when most of the nights you spent here, you had to hear some kind of racket coming from at least one bedroom. If not the wails of some other woman, it was the sound of any number of instruments, the blaring of music, the loud cacophony of voices in conversation. You couldn’t fathom how anyone got a good night of sleep in this house.

Peace finally settled in the room afterwards, as you crawled into his embrace under the sheets. These moments were something you could never get enough of – the texture of his bare skin beneath your fingertips, the heat of his body against yours, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest. He was always so gentle with you, physically and emotionally. He always knew how to talk you down when you were stressed or angry.

He'd learned so many of your likes and dislikes so quickly, and it showed. It was evident in the little gifts he gave you, the things he did for you, and the words he spoke to you. Not a single compliment was empty or without careful thought. You couldn’t have possibly asked for a better man for you. It seemed almost too good to be true.

* * *

When the night was said and done, and the moon faded into sunlight, a peaceful day awaited you. Sam drove you back to the dorms – you had a few assignments you wanted to crank out before the weekend was done. Sam had headed back to the house for some Sunday chores, though the peace that you felt that morning did not follow him home.

There was something in the air. Sam didn’t consider himself anything resembling a clairvoyant, but he could read the vibes of a room at an easier level than most. And today, those vibes were nasty. He’d tried to stay out of the way of the others as much as he could, even declining Josh’s offer for brunch. He was taking a poster off the wall to bring to his dorm, when he heard footsteps at the bottom of the stairs.

“Sam!” Jake’s voice echoed up the stairs. “Get the fuck down here.”

“What do you want?” Sam called back.

“Come here. We need to talk.”

A sense of dread started to rise in Sam’s throat. Jake didn’t normally talk to him like that, unless something was seriously wrong. It seemed that bad feeling had been more than just unfounded anxiety. He made his way downstairs, where Jake stood with his arms crossed.

“Heard you in your room last night. You wanna tell me what that was about?” There was a rage behind Jake’s eyes that Sam rarely saw.

“Oh, god.” Sam couldn’t even make eye contact, his cheeks starting to burn a bright red. “Were we too loud? That’s so fucking embarrassing, I’m sorry–”

“So you were really…” Jake clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That part doesn’t matter. But why her?” He said your name, in a questioning tone.

Sam wasn’t quite following what Jake was laying out. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t fucking play dumb with me.” When Jake got angry like this, he seemed larger. Either that, or Sam seemed to shrink in the presence of Jake’s rage.

“I’m not playing anything. What are you trying to say? Because it seems like you’re implying something pretty shitty right now.”

“Sam, drop the fucking act. This doesn’t have to turn into a fight.”

“It really seems like you’re looking for one.”

“If you really want to play dumb, I can let this go. Just don’t fucking do that shit again. Leave her be.”

“Leave her be?” Sam turned his palms up, his face twisted in utter confusion. He had no idea what Jake was trying to say here, unless he was trying to say you were anything less than perfect. An accusation which Sam wouldn't stand for. Not that he would care about Jake's opinion on you regardless – Sam knew you, and that was what mattered.

“This is a dangerous game you’re trying to play with me, Sam. We both don’t want to see how this ends if you don’t drop her.”

“I’m not dropping her. What, did you hear some rumor about her or something? I don’t care what gossip you’ve heard. She’s an amazing girl.”

“Gossip?” Jake gave Sam a genuinely confused look. He could sense that the two of them were, somehow, on completely different pages. “I haven’t heard anything. But she seems to be jumping straight from me to you. So I'd suggest dropping it before this gets really messy.”

Sam had to pause a moment, each word hitting him like a bullet to the chest. He would not cry, he refused to cry in front of Jake like this. Though tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He prayed for a moment that this was all just a huge misunderstanding. He must be confused, Jake couldn't possibly be saying what Sam thought he was saying. “Jumping from…you to…what?”

“Sam.” Jake sounded stern, like he’d ran this race a million times. He wouldn’t be swayed by the kicked-puppy look Sam was giving him. “Enough. Just leave it. She was mine first.”

“Yours?!” The word exploded from Sam’s chest at a volume that scared both of them. “Tell me you’re joking, dude. Say this is some stupid fucking prank you’re playing on me.”

“Oh, so you didn’t know? Or is this just part of the playing-dumb act?”

“Didn’t know what?!” Sam nearly screamed the last word.

“That we’ve been hooking up…?”

“Of course I didn’t fucking know! She never told me a damn thing!”

“Oh, I’m so shocked she didn’t tell you,” Jake said, his voice laced with mock pity. “Even after you blew up at her for nothing? After that first party? Remember that, Sam?” His volume started to rise to match Sam’s, his words dripping with malice.

“Don’t you dare bring that up. That’s between me and her.” Sam shoved a finger against Jake’s chest. He barely flinched.

“Well, you really fucked her up. So she came to me.”

“I don’t believe this shit. When?”

“Halloween. You didn’t notice when we left? You were so busy talking about your other little thing with Daniel, you didn’t even notice, did you? Speaking of which, what'd you do with her? Just kicked her to the curb the second you got a chance to steal my girl from me?”

It was taking everything within Sam not to just start swinging at Jake. “First of all, that's not your business. And don’t fucking talk about her that way. She’s not yours. In fact, she told me she's liked me for ages. Guess you were just filler while she waited for me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam could see Josh and Daniel, listening in from halfway down the stairs. The two of them had seen enough spats of this kind to know not to interfere, not until a line was crossed.

“And you kept her waiting forever. God knows if she’s even telling you the truth, considering she chose me long before you.”

“When’s the last time you even spent time with her, huh?” Sam was furious now, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Though his mind was far too chaotic right now to direct that anger towards anyone but his brother.

“I mean, it was– it was a while ago.” Jake’s resolve faltered, his voice breaking.

“And how many times…?”

“Twice.” Jake shrugged his shoulders. “But she was still mine long before you.”

“Wow.” Sam laughed, a humorless bark of a sound. “Slept with her two whole two times, and you’re acting like she’s your fucking property. Jesus christ, Jake, have some respect.”

“Respect? You wanna talk about respect while a few weeks ago, you were out there eating my leftovers in the fucking bar bathroom–”

Sam didn’t even feel himself move when he pushed Jake to the ground with a forceful shove. He climbed on top of him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, fist reared back. He could hear Daniel and Josh’s footfalls clattering down the stairs as he swung, his knuckles cracking against Jake’s cheekbone. Jake just barely managed to get off a shot in return, the back of his fist landing square along Sam's temple.

And just like that, the line had been crossed. Josh and Daniel were there in seconds, pulling the two brothers off of each other with shouts of “chill, chill, calm the fuck down!”

Daniel’s arms wrapped around Sam’s, pulling him away from Jake and restraining him from moving closer. Josh kept Jake pinned to the floor by his biceps. Insults flew from both of them, hurled with intent to hurt the most.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you!” Daniel boomed, his voice carrying above the commotion. “You both look fucking stupid, fighting over a girl!”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Sam asked, pulling against Danny’s arms, though his efforts were futile.

“I didn’t know it was any of your business who I fuck.”

Sam said no more – he had nothing left to say. He ripped his arms out of Danny’s grip, and trudged up the stairs to his room. Behind him, he could hear Josh’s peacemaker-voice urging Jake to please leave it.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted to break something, he wanted to call you, he wanted to cry himself to sleep, all at the same time. Above it all, he felt stupid. Of course it had been that way all along. Of course those hickeys had been left by Jake. He’d given you the benefit of the doubt, assuming it was some hookup. Since that first party, when he’d be wrong, he figured you knew the rest of the family was off-limits. You never saw it that way, he now realized. How stupid of him to try to set such a selfish limit on you.

He sat on the edge of his bed, his phone in his hands, choking back tears. It had all seemed so perfect for a little bit, there. He’d successfully navigated the minefield of your affection, he’d stopped talking to the other girl. Just another mistake – why didn’t he tell you he wasn’t talking to her anymore? He could barely even remember what her face looked like, every memory of his clouded with visions of you. Outside, the birds sang on and the sun shined, blissfully unaware of how Sam’s entire world had come screeching to a halt all at once.

There didn’t seem to be any way out of this. As usual, the one he truly wanted had slipped through his fingers. He should be used to it, by this point. Every time he got close, it ended in flames. Someone always got hurt. This was the last time. He couldn’t do this again. He swore to himself that every other girl, from here on out, would be only a friend, or hidden far away from his family.

He thought that phrase over a few times. Every...other…girl. Who else could there possibly be, besides you? You were different. You didn’t fit in the usual rigid box of his “type” that he so carefully curated. Yet, you’d still managed to captivate him, body and soul, in a way no one else ever had. He hated to think that you really were special, a league above all the rest in every way possible.

Except, you were special. It was a phrase he’d heard echo in his head without his consent so many times – the one. That was you. Everything about you was so indescribably perfect in his eyes. It was like he had fallen in love with an angel, one that flew from his grasp the moment he wrapped his arms around you. Maybe he was being a bit dramatic. It had only been a few weeks of knowing it was mutual, after all.

But this thing you two had together, this connection, it seemed so much deeper than anything he had ever felt before. He didn’t even know he had this level of love in his body for somebody. And now, it was being snatched away from him. It was his own fault in the end, he surmised. He hadn’t taken the chance when it was laid out in front of him, and you’d fallen into the arms of someone else. But why did it have to be his brother? And why hadn't you told him? Why had you lied straight to his face? Was he not worthy of the truth?

He had done the same, falling into the arms of another when he’d so foolishly assumed you didn’t like him after his various, mostly botched, attempts at flirting. He almost felt sorry for that poor other girl; she had only been a vessel for the feelings he could not give to you. As Sam lay in his bed, tears quietly staining his pillowcase, you were none the wiser. That night, you slept peacefully, dreaming of him and the future you were so eager to share. If only you had jumped when you had the chance.

[shimmerwindow]

fun fact: all 80,000 words of i never really have been written on an iphone 13 pro max. no keyboard no computer we die with carpal tunnel

[shimmerwindow]

Stinging - Jake Kiszka

Kitchen weapons and a good time

Warnings: NSFW Minors DNI, knife play, blood, slight daddy kink, kinky cutting, knives as dildos, unprotected sex

Pairing: Jake x reader

Word count: 2k

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[shimmerwindow]

heyyyy yall i was told the masterlist wasn't working but i think i fixed it! pls lmk if there's any chapters you can't open 🙏🏼