sirjaketkiszka

[sirjaketkiszka]

Summer’s around the corner and you wanna know what takes place in the summer? Silver Springs…

My Silver Springs era is defrosting—perhaps so is chapter five…

Be sure to check out the masterpost for updates. Coming soon…

[sirjaketkiszka]

Movie Night - Jake Kiszka

“Let me hear you say it.”

Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Summary - For Valentine’s Day, you and Jake opt for a movie night—staying in, eating snacks, and enjoying each other’s company. When you pick the movie, Fifty Shades of Grey, you get some ideas…

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: 18+, sexual content, hands + feet tied, use of blindfold, slight nipple play, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected piv sex, multiple orgasms, fast-paced, dirty talking, and briefly proofread.

(Let me know if I missed any.)

Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

a/n - here’s my submission for @seenoversundown ‘s Valentine’s Day writing event!! It was a pleasure to write and to participate ;) Enjoy!! <3

The light from the television flickers across the living room, eliciting shadows behind various pieces of furniture, and casting a soft glow along Jake’s features. It’s Valentine’s Day, and both you and Jake opted for a night in—watching movies together on the couch—with a plethora of Valentine’s Day-themed foods in front of you on the coffee table; a heart-shaped pizza, chocolate-covered strawberries, and cocktails with an absurd amount of grenadine in them. 

Tonight’s movie pick is Fifty Shades of Grey. It’s not peak cinema in the slightest, but you’ve never seen the movies before, and you’re hoping it’s a “so bad that it’s good” situation. 

So far… It’s just bad.

You’ve only just gotten to the part where Anastasia Steele interviews Christian Grey, and you can’t help the chill of secondhand embarrassment that travels down your spine. Jake chuckles beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders and holding you close. 

“You know we can turn it off, right? We don’t have to watch it.” You can hear the “I told you so” smile in his voice. 

In all honesty, it was your idea to watch the movie. You had heard that the films were inspired by the Twilight Saga—a twisted fanfiction version of the movies that you love. Jake swore up and down that you were going to hate it and damn it, you refuse to prove him right. 

“No, no. I was just a little cold, that’s all.” You lie, making Jake blow a quick breath through his nose to suppress his laugh. 

Excruciatingly long minutes pass, and the amount of unbearable groans you need to mask with a subtle cough is staggering. You’ve finally gotten to the part where they sleep together for the first time and… oh.

Oh.

You shift uncomfortably under Jake’s arm, unable to ignore the heat that creeps up your neck and through your limbs. You can see why so many people enjoy the film. It’s… certainly something. Jake must notice the shift in your body temperature as you feel his hold on you loosen while his watchful eyes glance over at you. 

If you’re not mistaken, you feel as though tension thickens between the two of you, your bodies no longer relaxed. Instead, you’ve stiffened, your thighs clenching together as you watch the scene play out. 

Sure, your sex life with Jake is not exactly “vanilla,” but what is being shown before you is… intriguing. Your gaze travels over to Jake’s side profile; his jaw is clenched, his nostrils flared, and his eyes locked on the screen. His breathing has changed as well—instead of his relaxed shallow breaths, his chest rises and falls deeper the longer he watches. 

Your mind wanders for a bit—imagining how you might react in a situation like that with Jake. How much you’d enjoy it…

Your thighs rub together, unexpected arousal rushing to your core the more you think about it… being tied up by Jake… being blindfolded by Jake… being spanked—

“You alright?” Jake’s voice pulls you from your inappropriate thoughts. His arm is no longer around you, but the same hand is now gripping your thigh, halting your movements. Was it that obvious?

Clearing your throat, you swiftly nod while readjusting your posture to sit straighter. The scene is long gone and you can’t seem to focus on anything else happening in the movie. Jake doesn’t let up, though. His hand remains on your thigh, the warmth of his palm combating with the searing heat of your intrigue. 

“Hey, Jake…” Your voice is small; shy.

“Yes, baby?” His head is quick to turn and look at you, his eyes searching your features. The dim glow of the TV nearly hides the pigmented hue of maroon painted on your cheeks—your pupils dilated and lips parted. 

You’re nervous about asking Jake your question. He would never judge you, and by his anticipating stare, he’s hoping you’re going to say what he wants to hear. 

“Would you…” Your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip nervously, finding the words. “Would you ever try that? With me?” 

His eyes shift to the screen, and back to you before a smirk pulls at his lips. “Yeah, I would.” 

A flutter tickles your lower belly, and you can’t help but notice the way Jake’s eyes grow darker—more hungry—when he feels your thighs twitch under his touch. 

“Is that what you’re thinking about, baby?” He questions, grabbing the remote beside him and pausing the movie. You’re entirely unaware of how far along you’ve gotten, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Jake removes his hand from your thigh, replacing his arm on the back of the couch, behind you. His body turns toward you, his attention undivided as he observes you. “You want me to do that to you? Hm? Tie you up? Blindfold you? Do whatever I want to you?” 

Your jaw falls slack as the words melt from his tongue, the heat between your thighs becoming intense—unbearable. 

You eagerly nod. 

“Let me hear you say it.” He urges. It’s as if a switch has been turned on, his demeanor completely different from just a moment ago. Your throat goes dry, and a thick swallow is unable to help your case. 

“Please, Jake.” Your voice is barely a whisper, your body gravitating toward him with your faces just inches apart. “Tie me up. Blindfold me. I don’t care. Do whatever you want to me.”

It’s pathetic how desperate your tone is, with a drawn whine lacing your words. Jake smiles wickedly at your pleas, his black pupils conquering the warm brown of his irises. 

“Wait here.” He instructs before lifting himself off the couch and rushing toward the hallway of your shared apartment where the bedroom resides. 

You sit in anticipating silence, carefully listening as you hear shuffling and muffled noises coming from the hall. Only a couple of minutes pass before he returns, standing before you and holding his hand out for you to take. No words are exchanged as your hand falls into his. You peel yourself off of the cushions and follow closely behind him. 

He leads you to the bedroom, which is dimly lit by a handful of burning candles on various surfaces, including the nightstand, dresser, and desk. 

You would consider it romantic if you weren’t thinking about the unholiest of things. 

Your eyes scan the bed and you notice a few modifications. In the short time Jake had been in here, he skillfully tied four silk pillow sheets to each corner of the bed frame.

He pulls you to stand in front of him, facing away from the bed now. The look in his eye is threatening, and it unsettles you; unaware of what he’s planned in such short notice. You swallow thickly, waiting for him to kiss you—or touch you—it doesn’t matter. 

“Get on the bed.” He demands, nudging his head toward the mattress that waits behind you. Slowly, you step back, your eye contact with him unbreaking. When you feel the wooden bed frame against the back of your thighs, you stop. Carefully, you climb backward onto the plush bed, watching as Jake’s eyes take in your cautious maneuver. 

He instinctively licks his lips, like a predator stalking its prey. You feel small under his watchful gaze—the way his eyes undress you, copious thoughts flashing before them, with a devious smirk displaying on his plump lips when he decides his plan of action. 

Once your upper back presses against the pillows, you pause, propping yourself up on your elbows and forearms, with your chin tucked into your chest—waiting for instruction. 

“Jake—” Your voice is barely a whisper, silently begging him for anything. 

“Strip.” He says the singular word with such intensity, almost impatient. 

Unhurriedly, you sit up, grabbing the bottom hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. Jake’s eyes grow darker, if it’s even possible. You continue at a tantalizing pace, hooking your fingers into the elastic waistband of your Valentine’s Day-themed pajama pants. His breathing visibly grows heavier, nearly choking on his gulp when the matching lingerie set you bought for him is in full view, carelessly tossing your discarded clothes elsewhere.

You knew either way you’d be under the covers with him—exchanging heavy breaths, muttered pleas, and roaming hands—by the end of the day, but somehow, it felt all the more fitting at this very moment. 

“All this for me, baby?” He asks, knowing the answer.

You nod timidly, feeling a sense of exposure from the way he crosses his arms over his chest, observing your compromising appearance. It’s as if he’s taking a mental picture of you laying there—your hair spilling over the pillows, your thighs clenched together to provide any sort of relief, and your plump breasts begging to be released from the confines of the sheer bralette with every rise of your chest. 

“Always for you.” You admit, growing impatient with his lack of urgency. 

The pleading look on your face must be a dead giveaway because he finally moves, stepping around the bed to your right side. Without a word, he grabs your wrist, prompting you to lay back and fully sink into the mattress. Using his other hand, he tugs on the silk pillow sheet to ensure its security, before bringing your hand to it. Gently, he loops the soft material around your wrist, creating a semi-loose knot around it. It’s tight enough that you can’t undo it yourself, but not enough to cause any irritation. 

He takes his time walking to the other side of the bed, repeating the same technique on your left wrist. You observe him intently, your legs gently writhing from the heat that pools in your core. The anticipation is killing you—watching him move leisurely like he has all night—and he does. 

Jake spares you just a few glances, his attention solely on tying you up. You’re almost entirely at his mercy, your arms now outstretched above you, completely useless to you. Excitement settles in your gut, nervousness following closely behind. 

He makes his way to the end of the bed, admiring your exposed position; hands tied up, legs crossed, and chest heaving with suspense. 

“Open your legs for me.” He instructs, his hooded eyes inspecting your every move. 

Hesitating, you uncross your legs, spreading them only slightly and keeping a small bend to your knees. Jake has seen you in many positions, but none like this one. Usually, he’d be on you; his body caging yours in, his lips on your skin, his hands grasping at anything he can get them on. Instead, he’s just standing there, examining you. It adds to your growing arousal as it becomes increasingly unbearable. 

Jake steps closer, grabbing one ankle at a time to tug your legs straight and tie them to the corners of the bed with the silk sheets. The nerves travel from your belly and rise in your throat, your body temperature following shortly. You gently tug on each restraint—testing just how vulnerable you are. A smug smirk tugs at the corners of Jake’s lips, noticing the very familiar look in your eyes. 

Despite your anxiety—a product of trying something new—your eyes are silently pleading for him to touch you. You’re unable to rub your thighs together, any and all friction no longer available to you. He knows this, and he visibly enjoys the way it affects you. 

“Please, Jake.” You whine, your bottom lip jutting forward in a slight pout. “Touch me.”

He struggles to keep his composure as it vaguely falters, his knees faintly weakening and his nostrils flaring to accommodate his heavy breathing. It takes everything in him not to give into your begging, but he has a front to withhold, and he’s just getting started.

Jake turns away from you, your hopefulness diminishing as he rummages through the top drawer of his dresser. His movements halt when he finds what he’s looking for before pulling it out; a tie. One of the very few that he has. When he faces you again, his expression is unreadable as he slips the tie through his fingers, feeling the soft fabric beneath his touch. 

He slowly makes his way toward you, rounding the bed and leaning over your restricted body. He stands beside your head, bending over slightly so his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. 

“Just tell me to stop, and I will.” He whispers, just before laying the tie over your eyes, gently tying it behind your head when you lift it for him. 

You’re completely in the dark now–every sense is still reliable but your sight. You listen closely, trying to get a read on Jake’s position, but it’s unhelpful to you. His feet move silently along the floor, the material of the rug muting his steps. You’re unable to tell whether he’s still beside you or somewhere else. 

Just as you consider calling his name, your leg jerks when his rough fingertips graze the skin. He’s standing at the edge of the bed again–his other hand mirroring his movements, sliding his hands up your legs, and stopping at your thighs. You feel the mattress sink under his weight, signaling that he’s finally joining you, getting closer. His gentle caress leaves goosebumps in its wake, peppering your smooth skin and showing Jake how sensitive you are to his touch. 

His warmth engulfs you, and you feel it travel above you as his hands leave your thighs, the pillow beneath your head molding against his palms. He’s caged you in as his breathing cascades along your tense features. His scent is somehow stronger without your eyesight, your lungs now flooded with his delicious cologne; musk, woodsy, and smoky, reminiscent of firewood. You expect a kiss, your lips parting in expectancy, but it never comes. Instead, you feel the ends of his hair feather along your shoulders, his head just below your chin. Every other sense is heightened–touch included–and you nearly moan when his lips graze the hills of your breasts. 

Your hips writhe beneath him, being met with his own as he settles between your spread legs. He keeps you in place, continuing his movements along the cups of your bra. He leaves open-mouth kisses across the delicate flesh while his hips pin you down further the more you fidget, biting back your desperate cries for more. 

One of his hands beside your head disappears but is quickly relocated when you feel your bra being pulled down, just enough to expose your hardened nipples. A sharp gasp pierces your lungs when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling the sensitive bud with his warm tongue. Your hands absently tug against their restraints, begging to fall into his hair and hold him closer to you. If only you knew how restricting this would really feel when you asked for it. 

You stare blankly into a void as your back arches into him, your bottom lip caught between your teeth to muffle your whimpers. With an audible pop, Jake releases your nipple, the brisk air assaulting the remaining saliva. 

“Don’t hold back, baby, let me hear you.” His sultry voice is even more prominent, and the soothing cadence rushes to your core. Before you can think of a response, his mouth is on your other nipple, sucking harshly as his teeth graze the tender flesh. 

“Jake!” His name is the only word that comes to mind as he consumes your every thought. You’re unable to think clearly, your body only responsive to him–his touch, his smell, his voice. He knows this based on the smug hum that emulates from his throat, vibrating against you and adding to the pleasure. Your hips move to no avail, any sense of relief unattainable from his strong hold on you. 

Small pants push past your parted lips as his tongue still works against you in a soothing circular motion. You need more, and you’re willing to beg for it. Except, you feel him pull away again, and his touch has completely disappeared this time–you know he’s still above you, his undeniable body heat flowing off of him. A beat passes before his lips are on you once more, instead connecting with the skin just under your breasts, below the fabric of your bralette. 

He moves skillfully, inching his way down your body, aching for him. His lips brush every surface, placing gentle kisses along your ribs, around your belly button, and stopping just above where you want him. Your core pulses the closer he gets, feeling his warm breath fanning over the lacy material of your thin panties. 

Your breath quickens when you feel his fingers trace your clothed slit, only applying a feather-light pressure. You try to imagine him; how he’s positioned, what expression he may be holding, and if he’s watching you intently—watching your every hitched breath, curled toe, and bunched fist. You’re sure he’s sporting a smug smirk, enjoying the way you’re responsive to his touch. 

A whine begs to leave your lips as his fingers hook into the center of your underwear, pulling it aside to expose your wet folds. A pleased noise from Jake travels to your expectant ears, surely impressed by the sheer amount of arousal spilling from your core. 

“I’ve barely touched you.” He remarks, a smile evident in his tone. “Already so wet.” 

“Please, Jake.” Your words are breathless, pointed to the ceiling as you squirm against the restraints. 

Jake hears your plea as he smothers the ache of your core with his tongue—swiping along your velvety folds and lingering above your pulsing clit. A slight cry mixes with your relieved moans, your legs begging to shut around his head and drape over his shoulders. Somehow, the inability to do so makes you more sensitive, and more receptive to his actions. 

Unable to focus on anything else, your entire attention is zeroed in on what you feel, rather than see. In addition to his tongue, his top lip brushes against you, as the bottom is covered by the flattening of his tongue. 

He pulls a string of pleading moans from deep within you as he turns his attention to the bundle of nerves that beg for it—sucking harshly and smiling against the flesh when he sees your back arch off of the mattress. 

“Oh, god!” The words weave between breathless pants as the coil settled in your belly tightens. With your heightened sense of feeling, your orgasm approaches at an alarming rate. Heavy breaths morph into gasps, your chest heaving as his lips work relentlessly against your clit. “Jake, I’m gonna come.” You gasp out, feeling the beginning surges of your climax. 

He moves quickly, taking you by surprise when you feel two fingers slide into you effortlessly, curling upward. “Come on my fingers, baby.” His words mumble into you. 

Your orgasm crashes down on you, ripping a yell from your throat, and leaving a raw sensation behind. Your eyes are squeezed shut, though it doesn’t matter, as the blindfold restricts your eyesight anyway. 

Jake moves slowly—attentively—pulling the remainder of your climax from you as your hips convulse against the mattress, your arms and legs begging to grasp onto him. 

When he’s sure you’ve ridden out the rest of your orgasm, he gently removes his fingers, pulling his mouth from you as well. His absence is intolerable, and despite the aftershocks of your release, you need more of him. 

You hear noises that sound like him cleaning his fingers off and the mental image arouses you, making your bottom lip catch between your teeth. He chuckles, knowing you’re aware of what he’s doing. You’re not completely blind, you know him well. 

Disappointment washes over you when you catch him shuffling off the bed, swiftly untying the pillowcases around your ankles, and repeating the action with your wrists. Your legs naturally close, and your arms go limp. It can’t be over yet, you think to yourself. 

Not even the blindfold can hide the frown pulling at your features, your lips downturned when you reach for the blindfold—ignoring the subtle ache of your wrists when they’re free. 

“Keep the blindfold on.” So we’re not done? “Don’t move.” His tone is authoritative and naturally instructive. 

You follow his instructions, freezing in your spot and listening for his quiet movements. You’re unable to place him in the room, but you hear the gentle sound of clothes hitting the floor. 

Anticipation gathers in your chest when you feel him climb onto the bed again, a breath sucking into you when you feel him hook his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. He pulls the flimsy material down the swells of your hips, the material stretching over your thighs and loosening around your ankles. Your hands reach for him, searching for him through the darkness of the blindfold. 

Your fingers graze his bare skin, letting you know that he’s stripped down. If only you could see for yourself—his long waves washing over his shoulders, stomach tightening every time he breathes out, and his cock, free from the constraints of his boxers. Your mouth waters at the thought. 

You try to grasp onto him, trying to pull him into you, but you’re caught off guard when his hands get a hold of your waist, swiftly flipping you over onto your stomach. A surprised yelp rushes out of you, unable to process his quick movements. His rough hands find your hips, pulling them up to expose your ass to him, his knelt position between your legs. The side of your face is buried into the pillows, your hands lying flat beside your head. 

His hardened length pushes against the back of your thigh as he reaches forward, grabbing your hands and holding them behind your back. Your wrists interlock in his fist, keeping a strong hold on you. 

The only notable noise in the room is the sound of your shallow breaths, waiting for him once again. You’re unable to brace yourself properly, never aware of his next move—you’re tense, but somehow equally relaxed. 

A moment passes before his free hand shifts, his erection no longer pressed against you, but now into you. You both hiss at the sensation of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. For each inch that passes, the quicker your breath rises, only turning into moans when the tenuous pain melts into mouth-watering pleasure. 

His hips connect with your ass, both of you groaning in unison. It’s his turn to breathe heavily, his free hand now on your hip, grasping at your flesh to mask his struggle. He stills for a moment, most likely enjoying the way your hips wriggle against him, silently asking him for more. 

Steadily, he pulls his hips back, nearly pulling out completely before driving himself back in. His name rolls off your tongue in praise, encouraging him to repeat his actions, and he does. He remains at a slow pace, antagonizing you and taking pleasure in the way your hips move back, meeting him in the middle. 

“More?” He taunts, squeezing his grip on your wrists.

“Please.” You whine. 

“So greedy.” He mumbles, surely shaking his head in faux disapproval. 

He gives you what you want, anyhow, moving at a quicker pace and using his hand on your hip as support. Your moans are consistent with his thrusts, growing louder the harder they are. 

“Feels so good, Jake.” You cry out, your face sinking deeper into the pillows. 

“Yeah? Is this what you wanted?” He huffs out. You eagerly nod, knowing his eyes are on you—taking note of how your lips part, silent praises dancing along the plump flesh. “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes!” You rush out, feeling another orgasm building up, practically clawing its way to the edge. 

“Can you say ‘thank you’?” He teases, and a breathless chuckle pours from his lips. “It’s only fair.”

“Thank you…” You whisper.

“I didn’t hear you.” He says disapprovingly, undoing his hold on your hip and swatting your ass, making you yelp. “Louder. Show me how grateful you are.”

“Thank you!” Your voice is raised, slightly irritated by your teetering orgasm. So close to the edge, but needs a push. If he could just go a little… “Faster, Jake, I’m so close.” 

“Me too, baby.” He admits through clenched teeth. He grunts between breaths, releasing your wrists and grabbing hold of your other hip. Jake moves faster—sloppier—chasing his own release.

Your hands find the sheets beneath you, gripping them as he pounds into you, the sound of your skin connecting echoing in the room—leaving no corner untouched. You turn your head, muffling your desperate cries into the pillow as your second orgasm shatters into you. 

It’s far more intense than the first, pulling a drawn groan from Jake as your walls flutter around his thrusting cock. He works you through your climax, much like the first, relishing the way your cunt pulses—keeping a strong hold on him and dragging him in deeper, if it’s possible. Your hips shutter as the remainder of your orgasm diminishes into spaced-out throbs. 

Once Jake knows you’ve been taken care of—your breathing coming to an even pattern—he abruptly pulls out of you, painting your backside with his release as one of his hands grips his length. It lands down your spine, across the expanse of your back, and settles on the hills of your ass. You’re a mess.

Jake’s breath is shaky, a low whine pouring from him as he pumps the last of his orgasm from his cock. Silent curses follow closely, up until you no longer feel the warmth of his cum dripping out of him. He lets out rushed exhales, removing his hand from your hip and admiring his work, you assume. 

Carefully, Jake gets off the bed, dragging your legs back so you’re laying flat on your stomach. You’re unable to roll over, afraid of the mess you’ll create on the sheets. Somehow, you sense that he’s left the room, his presence unnoticeable. 

Sure enough, you hear the bathroom sink turn on, for the amount of time it takes for the cold water to become hot. You figure at this point, you can take the makeshift blindfold off, your eyes squinting to adjust to the low lighting. 

Jake appears shortly, only in his boxers, holding a wet washcloth. He smiles softly, pleased to see you’re right where he left you, patiently waiting. He sits beside you, gently wiping your skin to rid you of his release. The cloth is warm, soothing, and comforting. 

He’s attentive, making sure to wipe away every drop—every streak. When he’s sure he’s cleaned you up, he tosses the washcloth in the dirty clothes basket in the far corner of the bedroom, nearly missing. 

“Come here.��� He mumbles, assisting you in turning onto your back, finally seeing him. His cheeks and neck are flushed, the soft look in his eyes returning. 

Jake pulls the comforter that resides at the end of the bed above you, covering your nearly naked body with the heavy blanket. He joins you underneath it, repositioning your tired frame into him, your back splayed against his bare chest. Few words are exchanged as the euphoria has yet to wear off. 

“Did you enjoy it?” Jake asks, uncertainty in his tone from your lack of speech. You glance at him over your shoulder, noticing the concerned furrow in his brows. 

“Jake.” You turn over to face him, needing him to see just how much you enjoyed it. “I loved it.”

His face softens, confirming he had been afraid you didn’t like it as much as you thought you would. Quite the opposite, actually.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” He whispers, leaning into you and capturing your lips in a sweet, slow kiss. 

Taglist:

@stardustthread @demolitiondanchipsversion @highway-tuna @cheersdannyx2 @allof--mylove @theweightofjake @sacredsparrow

Tags:

[sirjaketkiszka]

Hey guys!!

I keep losing track of who to include in my taglist, specifically for my one shots.

If you’d like to be added to the taglist for all of my one shots, comment below or message me!!

This Friday, I’ll be releasing a spicy Valentine’s Day-themed Jake one shot, so be on the lookout!!

Much love <3

[sirjaketkiszka]

EXTREMELY excited to see how the rest of this story progresses <3 10/10 recommend

The Order of the Moonstone Guard; Part One

Runway Blues

greta van fleet x OC

A/N: ahhh sorry it took so long but it’s finally here and i really hope you like it!!! special thank you to @sirjaketkiszka for proofreading and being an angel

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none yet, mention of a dead bird

The roar of the audience was almost deafening, the joyous cheer and overwhelming adoration for this band was so awe-inspiring. Even after every night, every sold out show, these 4 men from the small town never ceased to stand in amazement that they were loved, and they loved back wholeheartedly.

As the white roses were given after the final number of the night, it was evident behind the teary eyes and wide smiles that exhaustion was creeping closer.

—----------

As they boarded the small plane, Josh fell into his seat in a heavy slump, the sleep threatening to take over as he pulled out his phone. Scrolling through instagram, as was his nightly routine. Jacob sat across from him, eyes already closed as his head laid back against the headrest.Sam was at the small fold out table across the aisle, playing poker with Danny as they settled in before takeoff.

As the pilot did their final checks and flipped on the seatbelt sign, the engine of the aircraft roared to life. It wasn’t long before the plane started to jolt forward, slowly turning towards the runway before gaining momentum. As the lurch of leaving the ground rattled throughout the plane, Josh let out a small huff of unease. He had always hated that part of takeoff, no matter how much flying they did.

No matter, in 12 short hours, they would be in Tokyo, getting some much needed relaxation and adventure before shows started back up again.

Josh’s thoughts were interrupted as Jake’s soft snores grew louder, making him shake his head at his twin. How he could fall asleep so easily made him all the more jealous. He huffed, leaning back into his own seat, allowing the darkness to take over.

—----------------

“WAKE THE FUCK UP-” Josh’s eyes shot open, seeing Sam fairly close to his face.

“What the fuck man? I was fucking sleeping. Are we there?” Josh grumbled, see light outside the plane window, and Jake and Danny nowhere to be seen.

“Uhh I don’t think so. We didn’t crash- I don’t think; but we’re definitely not in Tokyo.” Sam rushed, tripping over his words. Josh’s brow furrowed, unbuckling his seat and standing up. His head was pounding as he moved towards the door of the plane.

The overwhelming bright light flooded over him as he stepped out of the plane. Jake and Danny were standing farther out, looking around to try and make sense of what was happening. They were in the middle of seemingly nowhere. A snow-laden field, with the smallest sight of a treeline off in the distance. The sky blended with the harsh white plain before him.

“Where are we? Why are we here?” Sam’s rambling almost completely drowned out as the four men turned towards each other.

“Where’s the pilot? Someone should go check on him.” Danny, ever the rational thinker of the four. Jake shuddered, nodding as he paced back towards the plane. They watched as he stepped back inside, only to return after a brief moment.

“You’re not gonna fucking believe me. He’s- he- there’s nobody. He’s gone.” Jake stuttered, weaving his hands through his hair in confusion. His wide eyes moving towards his brothers faster than his mind was racing.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head before running back towards the plane and glancing back into the cockpit.

“FUCK.”

“Well, what now?” Josh croaked, his throat scratchy with the fear bubbling inside him.

“Let’s see if we can find something, or someone who can help us explain what’s going on. There has to be some reason we’re here.” Danny thought aloud. The other three nodded, shivering slightly.

“First things first, grab your coats and let’s pair off. Two of us will head towards the treeline and the other two can try and see if there’s anything across the clearing.” Danny continued, trying to come up with some sort of smart plan to move forward.

“I’ll go with Jake, Sam you’ll go with Josh and head towards the treeline.” The curly-headed man directed his brothers, pointing as he spoke. Sam nodded, pulling his coat closer before turning to Josh and angling his head towards the trees. Josh sighed, before following the brunette in the opposite direction.

“Hey! Meet back here in an hour to decide where to go.” Sam yelled over his shoulder, still progressing towards the dense-looking forest.

“Yeah alright.” Jake yelled back as he and Danny trudged off onto the clearing. He pulled his sleeve a bit to glance at his watch, after trying to check his phone which wouldn’t even turn on. He turned towards Danny who glanced up at the shorter man, a puzzled look on his face.

“Has your phone turned on since we got here? Mine won’t at all.” Jake asked, waving his phone at the man.

“No, I figured it had just died, but I know I charged it last night.” Danny spoke, tying his hair up so the wind wouldn’t keep whipping it into his face. Jake nodded, squinting as he looked up across the snow.

“Hey- is that?-” Jake asked, picking up his pace as best as he could as he spotted what seemed to be a few buildings. Danny chuckled, jogging to catch up with him.

“Should we go grab the other two? They should see this.” Danny called out after Jake. Stopping in his tracks, Jake looked back, nodding before speaking; “Yeah you go grab them, I’ll head down and see if I can find any help.” He turned around and kept walking, leaving the younger man to roll his eyes and head back to go grab the others.

—----------------------

“Sam, leave that dead bird alone. It’s bad luck to mess with the dead.” Josh groaned, rubbing at his temples as his brother poked

at a dead crow that was laying in the snow. Sam chuckled, shaking his head at his brother.

“Just like a plane crash, brother? That type of bad luck?” Sam sneered, ever the cynic. Josh rolled his eyes, cocking an eyebrow at Sam.

“We didn’t crash- we just- well… um… we didn’t crash.” Josh muttered back, sitting down on a rock. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on keeping the oncoming migraine at bay.

“Guys! C’mon, you gotta see this!” Danny’s voice was almost drowned out by the wind whistling through the trees. Sam and Josh hurried after him, curious to see what he had found.

—----------

Jake was waiting outside of an old abandoned shack. As he saw his brothers approach, he stood up and waved them over.

“It’s abandoned, nobody’s here. C’mon you gotta see what I found.” Jake exclaimed, before ducking inside the small shack of a home. Josh and Danny looked at each other with caution, Sam running in after him. Danny shrugged his shoulders before following Sam and Josh trailed behind.

“In here, c’mon.” Jake called out as Sam, Josh, and Danny were looking around the dusty, forgotten house. The dust had seemed odd, like little gold flecks adorned the sheen across the furniture.

Sam followed his brother’s voice to another room, cluttered to the ceiling with forgotten furniture and keepsakes, memories of the life that lived there before they had stumbled across it. As he made his way in, he saw Jake frantically moving crates and miscellaneous objects away from a rather large tapestry.

Josh and Danny were watching from behind as Jake finally finished uncovering the large fabric. Woven in its threads depicted an image of a young woman; wearing broken,shimmering armor and two large, feathered wings cascading behind her. She held a silver sword, her face was fearful, eyes widened with shock.

“She’s beautiful. I can’t believe someone would just leave this behind.” Danny spoke softly, running his fingers across the fabric in amazement.

“Dan, look at this.”

[sirjaketkiszka]

Coming Soon...

HIGH RIFT PLAINS

Somewhere in Montana, 1875

Description: Owning the ranch that your father left behind after his passing was certainly not easy. But you had soon grown used to the isolation, the loneliness. Struggling to see your future through the threats of losing your land, Jacob, a wandering gunslinger and salesman, crosses your path, and you agree to accommodate him for the duration of his stay. What will you do when the threats to your land fall heavily upon the silent solstice you find in one another? 

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Sneak Peak...

“So, where have you travelled from, Jacob?” you asked, keeping your voice light, though the question held a deeper curiosity you couldn’t quite shake.

He sighed through his nose, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of miles and years. Before responding, he glanced away, the lines in his face tightening for a moment as though he was trying to remember.

“I wish I could tell you, to be honest. I came east, but I never stay long enough to learn a town's name.” His voice was low, almost distant, like he was speaking more to himself than to you.

A flicker of sadness crept over his soft features, the edges of his usually guarded expression loosening as the words escaped. It was brief, just a moment, but you caught it. A quiet vulnerability that vanished just as quickly as it appeared.

He straightened his posture slightly and shifted his gaze to Bessie. The way he looked at her, you wondered if he found solace in the simplicity of her presence. A horse didn’t ask questions about where you’d been or what you’d lost.

You frowned, your brow creasing as his answer weighed on you more than you expected. “Do you like it like that?”

Your words were gentle but pressing, trying to understand why someone would choose a life of such constant wandering. The thought of never having roots, never knowing the names of the places you passed through, seemed lonely.

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A/N: This story has been in the works since October last year (I know I wrote so slowly it’s terrible) and it is my absolute baby. It’s got fluff, it’s got angst, it’s got smut, and it’s got some sexy, rough, respectful, cowboy Jake 😈 I really hope that once it’s released, you guys love this as much as I do 🤠

Please comment or message me or literally whatever to be added to the Tag-List

@allof--mylove @hailtheaeon

[sirjaketkiszka]

Jake Kiszka One Shot: Best Friend’s Brother

When your boyfriend breaks up with you, your head falls on the nearest shoulder; Jake’s.

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Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Mentions of heartbreak, self-doubt, a hint of angst, fear of loneliness, sweet Jake <3, fluff, and that’s all, folks!

(Let me know if I missed any!)

Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors and grammar mistakes.

a/n— Here’s to my fluff lovers! Apologies to the individual who requested this one shot nearly three weeks ago, I hope I did your request justice! Shoutout to the beta readers who provided feedback and reassurance so I could finish quicker. Enjoy!! <3

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You had nowhere else to turn.

The tears sting your eyes as they keep falling, blurring your vision while you lift your closed fist, gently pounding on the door of your best friend’s apartment. A moment of doubt passes, realizing how late it is and that you haven’t even bothered to call before showing up unannounced. 

Your body shivers in the cool breeze of the late-summer air, your arms crossing over your chest as you wait patiently, with your back slightly hunched to preserve all remaining body heat. Rushing over here, you hadn’t thought to wear a heavier jacket, and honestly, you didn’t know it would be this cold. Without thinking, you knock again, letting your arms rest at your sides as your fists grip anxiously at nothing. This was a mistake, you thought to yourself.

The surrounding stillness is deafening; a gentle swish of wind blows past, carrying the dewy scent of the quickly approaching fall. In the distance, tires tread across the gravelly roads, the muffled crunch becoming white noise. The melancholy symphony of crickets is a reminder of the sleeping world around you; a reminder that Josh is, in fact, asleep. Reluctantly, you cut your losses, ultimately giving up and taking a mental note to return tomorrow. 

Just as you take a step back from the door, you perk up and stop your movements when you hear the faint footsteps behind the heavy wood. Thank God. 

However, your optimism fades when the door swings open, revealing the last person you would want to see at a time like this. Quickly wiping the streaming tears from your blotched cheeks, you fix your posture, sniffling and peering over his shoulder. You don’t bother to greet him, having all manners fly out the window. 

“Is Josh available?” You rush out.

“No, he’s asleep right now–” Jake’s voice is irritated, understandably so, but his mouth shuts when he dissects your appearance; flushed cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and a nose that would beat Rudolph in a competition. He’s equally disheveled, most likely having just woken up from your knocking. His hair is tousled, and he’s sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and a thoroughly worn t-shirt with a stretched neckline. His eyes are squinting, likely adjusting to the overhead light of the outside hallway. “Is everything okay?” His eyes soften, along with his tone. 

“Oh, um,” You divert your gaze from his watchful eyes, “I’m fine.” You should’ve known Josh would be asleep by now, it’s nearly 3 am and he has work in the morning, but you still feel disappointed by the information relayed. While Josh would 100% want to be woken up, and would willingly stay up until the sun rises, you’re unwilling to put that responsibility on him. If there’s one thing about you, you refuse to be a burden. Sure, Josh has never made you feel like one, but regardless, you’re willing to wait to avoid messing with his sleep schedule.

Jake pulls you from your thoughts, “Are you sure–”

“Just tell him to call me when he wakes up, please.” Cutting him off, you turn away, ready to make a run for the flight of stairs to your right. 

“Hey…” Before you can step away, his fingers wrap around your wrist, halting your movements. “What happened?” His voice is as interrogating as it is concerned, and his face is stern, pushing for more information than you’re willing to give. 

“Just…” Your eyes focus on his unwavering hand, keeping you in place. Hesitating, you consider telling him. “I’d rather speak with Josh– I’m sorry for bothering you this late. You should go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” He repeats, “You’re no bother, I promise.”

“I’m sure, Jake.” You dismiss him, unfamiliar with his sudden concern. While you’ve been friends with Josh for years, you and Jake never got around to getting to know each other. So, his insistent apprehensiveness is new to you. It makes you skeptical– unwilling to confide in him, even though you probably should. “It’s nothing, really.” 

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.” His tone is bordering on vexing and his persistence maddens you. Why does he want to know so badly? 

“Jake.” Your voice wavers, attempting to be a warning, but nearly cracking like the front you’ve put on. The warmth of his palm pierces through your already heated skin, and while your thoughts contradict the words that leave your mouth, you haven’t pulled away just yet. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with you.” 

“I just want to help–”

“I’m fine, Jake!” Your raised voice startles both of you, his eyes wide and mouth parted, unable to respond. With your heart pounding in your chest, your pulse blares in your ears from the rising heat that settles in the crooks of your neck. Silence falls and a tinge of guilt settles in your lower stomach. “I’m sorry, that was… rude of me.”

“No. Don’t apologize.” He shakes his head, dropping your wrist and stepping back a half-step. “I shouldn’t have pried. I’m sorry.”

“Jake–” You step closer, and for a reason you can’t quite place, you don’t want him to leave you just yet. 

“I’ll let Josh know you stopped by.” He’s closing the door now, his eyes locked on yours for a moment before drifting to the floor. 

“Jake, wait.” You plaster your hand against the door, preventing him from closing it. He stops, looks at you, and waits for you to continue. His features are unreadable; relaxed, but simultaneously tense. Letting out a deep sigh, your eyes find the ceiling of the apartment hallway, unable to look him in the eyes. “My boyfriend and I broke up.” 

“Oh,” His face softens, and he opens the door fully again, making your hand drop to your side, “I’m so sorry.” The look on his face disturbs you. It’s a look you never thought you’d receive from him; pity. He actually feels sorry for you. Sure, Jake isn’t a complete asshole, but you’re not close. This is odd. And yet, you feel the comfort radiating off his stature.

“Yeah, well, he broke up with me.” Your name rolls off his tongue in an empathetic whisper from your further elaboration and clear upset in your tone. Without a second thought, Jake steps through the threshold and wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in a consoling hug. The force of his affection causes a small oof to huff out of you, and it takes a moment of initial shock to pass before you reciprocate. Despite the unfamiliarity, you welcome his warmth and feel the tension in your muscles melt as you allow yourself to slump against him. His arms adjust, gently pulling you against him in a firm hold, providing support to your trembling frame. 

Your hands interlock behind him and you take a deep breath, your eyes involuntarily closing as tears threaten to resurface. But, when you inhale deeply, his attractive scent fills your senses and overcomes you. It only adds to his solace; manly, musky, smoky, and vaguely of cinnamon and various spices. You fight the urge to hum when it infiltrates your lungs.

“Come inside.” His voice vibrates against you, pulling you from your racing thoughts. “We can talk about it.” 

“Oh, that’s okay, really.” You chuckle nervously as you lean back to look at him, still holding onto him. He doesn’t let go either. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Please?” He reasons with you, tilting his head, his eyes begging, “At least sleep over and wait until Josh wakes up. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

The offer is appealing. And he is right— you shouldn’t be alone and certainly don’t want to be. You genuinely enjoy this side of Jake; caring, worrisome, and considerate. It’s not that he’s never been those things before, but he’s simply your best friend’s brother. You question why you never considered being his friend as well.

“Fine. I’ll stay.” It truly didn’t take much convincing. You’d either decline and return to an empty apartment for the rest of the night, or accept and potentially spend time with Jake. It’s better than being alone, so you clearly opted for the latter. 

He smiles softly at your submission, unwrapping his arms from around you, and guiding you into the apartment. Stepping aside to let you walk in, he shuts the door behind you. You’ve been in this apartment thousands of times, some even without Josh present, but you can’t shake the awkward feeling overcoming you. Usually, you and Jake coexist, not acknowledging each other. That’s not an option now, as he steps around you and walks over to the couch, taking a seat. 

“Come here.” He pats the spot next to him.

Without any protest, your body gravitates toward him, sitting next to him with just mere inches of space between the two of you. His eyes are watchful; aware of every micro-expression, muscle twitch, and breathing pattern. You feel… seen.

“Jake, I appreciate you letting me in, but really, you don’t have to do this.” You assure him, letting him know there’s still a way out of this conversation. “I’m okay with waiting for Josh.”

“I know I don’t have to… I want to.” His expression is serious, his eyebrows furrowed with determination, to let you know that he’s genuine, “You’re Josh’s best friend and, by extension, I care about you. Josh would do the same.”

He’s not wrong. Josh wouldn’t have let you leave even if you tried to run, though, Jake wouldn’t be that extreme. 

Your shoulders slouch and your bottom lip begins to quiver, remembering the traumatic events that occurred just hours before. It doesn’t take much persuasion for you to pour your heart out to Jake; laying out every single minute detail of your boyfriend— well, ex-boyfriend— breaking your heart.

Jake looks horrified with his eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared in pure indignation. He doesn’t interrupt you, though. Instead, he silently listens, letting you essentially word vomit. It isn’t until you finish talking that you realize tears have gathered just below your chin from the constant stream leaving your watering eyes. 

“I’m sorry, that was a lot.” You let out a small chuckle, using the sleeve of your sweater to wipe away the trail of tears. 

“Don’t apologize.” He reaches out to rest a hand on your knee. His form of comfort seems to be physical touch—he and Josh are similar in that way. “So, you’ve told me everything, but how are you?”

“I’m—” You have to think for a moment. Angry? Yes. Sad? Absolutely. “Disappointed in myself.” 

“Oh, come here,” His voice is gentle as his hands land on your shoulders and pull you into him. He scooches closer so your head can fall onto his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. His arms wrap around your shoulders, holding you close, while his hands cradle the back of your head. “Why?” His tone is curious.

“I don’t know, it’s just…” You sigh, closing your eyes and hiccuping into his chest. Great, here come the tears again. The fabric of his shirt soaks every fallen drop, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “What if there was something I could’ve done better?” You whisper.

Jake mutters your name, his arms constricting to hold you in a firmer grip, “Listen to me, him breaking up with you… that is not a you problem. Do you understand?” His low voice rumbles in his chest, emanating a comforting vibrating sensation against your cheek. 

“But—”

“There is no ‘but,’” His stern words cut you off, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him from your immediate defense, “I know you. You’ve been nothing but kind to him. And I know him.” You forget that Jake has met your ex-boyfriend a few times. Mainly through passing, but it never takes anyone long to realize how shitty he was. “He never deserved you.”

“It’s just…” You think of your next words, feeling embarrassed by the vulnerability you’re presenting to Jake. He stays silent, letting you collect your thoughts, and you sigh, “What if he’s right…?” Your trembling voice is barely audible.

“What?” Jake shifts, leaning back so you’ll look at him. His face is blurry, courtesy of the tears that gather on your waterline, but his features are riddled with concern. 

“What if…” You sigh again, and your shoulders slump in a silent sob, “What if no one wants me?” 

It’s a real fear you’ve dealt with for, well, however long you were with your ex. The beginning of your relationship was pure bliss, as all honeymoon phases are. However, by the one-year mark, arguments became a daily routine. Then, your second anniversary came around, and well, you had hoped it would get better. It never did. 

Josh did try convincing you to break up with him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice how unhappy you were with him. However, the longer the relationship lasted, and the more your self-esteem dwindled while being with him, you figured… no one else would ever love you. Not like him. If you can even call it love.

You’ve been out of the dating pool for years now, and the idea of having to restart frightens you. You started dating your ex when you were young, but now that you're fully into adulthood, the dating scene is different. 

“Someone will want you.” Jake’s voice is unyielding. His expression is serious. “And someone is going to love you. The way you should be loved. Okay?”

“Okay…” Surprisingly, his words do provide a sense of relief. He seems so sure when he tells you these things; as if he knows personally that they will happen— like he’ll make them happen.

“Good.” His hands move to the sides of your face, and your pulse quickens when he leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead and placing a soft kiss against the creased skin. The intimate gesture startles you, but a gentle wave of disappointment settles in your gut. What were you expecting? You chalk it up to your overwhelming emotions and incessant need to forget this night ever happened— a night where your heart has been shattered by a man who never deserved the chance to begin with. “Do you want to lay down until Josh wakes up? He’s working an early shift, so he should be awake fairly soon.” Three hours to be exact.

You gently nod, your face still cradled in his hands; they’re soft and warm, despite the callouses that formed as a result of his passion, and they’re just barely applying pressure to your tear-stained cheeks. Lowering his hands, he stands up and waits for you to do so as well. 

“What?” 

“Just follow me, please?” When you hesitantly stand up, he places his hands on your shoulders, shifting you in the direction of the bedrooms and bathrooms down the hall. He guides you toward them��� the main bathroom is at the end of the hall. You assume he’s taking you there, so you can freshen up and rid your face of the drying tears. And you’re correct.

Stepping into the bathroom, he turns the light on and you’re met with your reflection. Jeez. Somehow, your hair is a mess and your eyes are beginning to swell from the sheer force of crying. Your overall appearance is… puffy. 

“I look terrible.” You say in disbelief, letting out a pathetic chuckle. 

“Oh, stop it.” He looks at you through the mirror’s reflection, “Sit.” He gestures to the bathroom counter.

Doing as he says, you turn around and hop onto the counter, sitting beside the sink and facing Jake. He steps forward, crouching down into the cabinet beneath the sink, grabbing a washcloth, and soaking it with cold water. You expect him to hand it to you, but he steps before you, standing between your open legs. The position is intimate, and entirely compromising if Josh were to walk in. With pure focus on his face, he brings the washcloth up to one of your cheeks and gently wipes the tear-stained skin. The coldness of the cloth soothes your flushed cheek and your eyes flutter close from how nice it feels. His breathing is shallow and he’s close enough that you can hear the air exhaling from his nose. He continues to the other cheek, making sure to swipe the cloth along your jawline, nose, and chin. You’ll never understand what has warranted such care from Jake, but it’s best not to question it now.

When his actions stop, you open your eyes and nearly jolt when you realize how close he is. His expression is conflicting, and his eyes scan your features, but he steps back when he finally makes eye contact with you. 

“All done.” He clears his throat, giving you enough space to slide off the counter. Turning to look at yourself, your face is much less red, and even a little less puffy. It makes you wonder how many crying girls Jake has had to comfort, and unfortunately, it’s a thought that surprisingly discomforts you. Coming up behind you, his hands gravitate to your hair and his fingers softly run through the strands, being careful not to tug. He flattens any imperfections and pulls it all behind your shoulders, “See? Not terrible at all.”

His eyes catch yours again, and your eyes hold his for a moment before you smile, “Thank you, Jake.” 

“Anytime.” He returns a smile, “How about some sleep?”

“I am pretty tired.” You admit, turning around to face him. Jake nods knowingly, snaking his hand behind you and resting it on your lower back. You’re entirely capable of heading to the couch yourself, but who are you to deny a helping hand? 

Jake guides you out of the bathroom, turns the light off, and walks with you down the hall. You’re sure to be quiet when you walk past Josh’s room, feeling unsettled by the fact that he has no idea you’re even here. While you’re coming closer to the living room at the end of the hall, Jake turns you to his bedroom. Before you can utter a word of protest, you’re walking through the threshold and Jake is flicking the switch to turn on the lamp in the far corner of his bedroom. 

The bedroom is dimly lit– the covers in slight disarray from him leaving his bed to answer the door. Like Jake, his room is dark, comforting, and, for lack of a better word, mysterious. The decorations on the walls and surfaces don’t give away much about him, other than the fact that he’s fascinated by pirates, oddly enough. In the opposite corner of the lamp, there are guitars presented on stands, and an amp just beside them. You’re stunned, feeling as though you’re intruding on a private part of his life. 

To you, your bedroom is your sanctuary. Only a select few are permitted to tread such confidential territory. It’s not like Jake has a “Stay out!” sign attached to his bedroom door, but still, this feels like a rite of passage. A look into his life outside of what you’ve always known.

“Jake—”

“Relax,” he chuckles from behind you, figuring how you might interpret this gesture. “You can stay in here while I sleep on the couch.”

Well, that’s awfully generous. “Jake, that’s kind of you, but you’ve already done so much for me. I can sleep on the couch— I promise it’s fine.”

He waves you off while stepping around to approach the bed, as a way to say “Don’t be ridiculous.” Fixing the covers, he pulls them back and motions to the open spot. “You deserve comfort. Not the couch.”

Your feet shuffle in his direction, gravitating toward the plush mattress. “Okay…” You’re uncertain, but Jake’s expression softens you, “Is it really that comfortable? I’d argue that the couch is pretty damn close.”

“Only one way to find out.” He smirks, happy to see sparks of your snide self coming to the surface. Playfully rolling your eyes, you kick off your shoes and sit on the bed, turning to push your legs under the covers and lay back against the soft mountain of pillows. 

“Oh my…” The words shutter from your lips, genuinely surprised. The sheets are still warm from his previous laying in them, and it only adds to the overwhelming comforting sensation. 

He chuckles, his lips flashing his satisfied smile from your involuntary reaction. 

The air from the pillows and mattress deflates, creating a molding sensation, and hugging your every curve. It’s… heavenly. Perhaps all that crying made your body incredibly sore and tired, but that’s quickly a distant memory when you're practically melting into Jake’s bed. 

Jake pulls the covers over you, engulfing you in a heavy plush comforter that’s saturated with his scent. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you nuzzle deeper into his pillows and grip the edge of the comforter, pulling it up just below your chin.

“What’d I tell you?” He laughs, his eyelids relaxing to admire how comfortable you look in his bed. 

“You were right.”

“Music to my ears.” He teases, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, “Get some sleep, okay?” 

“Okay…” While you can sleep, and you are tired, you hate watching Jake turn to leave, reaching for the light switch and sparing you one more glance. “Jake–” He freezes, his fingers resting on the switch, looking at you over his shoulder. “I’m not tired.” You lie.

“Oh.” His hand falls, and he turns around, stepping toward you, “But you said– Is there something wrong?”

“No, I–” You what? “Can you stay with me?”

“Oh.” He’s at a loss for words. You feel stupid for asking such a question. This entire situation felt unreal; when you came here, you had hoped to confide in Josh, but here you are. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” It was a ridiculous request, he’d never agree. “You don’t have to–”

“I’ll stay. Scoot over.” His words frantically cut you off and his legs move in stride, making you move over quickly. He pulls back the covers and slides in effortlessly. Although, when he settles underneath the comforter, he only leans against the headboard. His legs lay before him, and he peers down at you, “Come here.”

Without thinking, you shift closer, watching him cautiously as he uncovers his lap and pats his thigh. It’s a position you’re familiar with, especially with Josh. The two of you would take turns resting your heads on each other’s lap to rant about various topics. It’s your form of therapy. Though, this feels entirely different with Jake. It is as if you’re entering unknown territory, one you can’t return from.

Still, you rest your head against his thigh, which happens to be pleasantly muscular. It takes a moment before you both relax, silence deafening the room and amplifying your steadying breaths. You hadn’t thought this far before foolishly asking him to stay, but you were unwilling to return to acquaintances with Jake.

“Thank you,” you cut through the silence, your voice quiet, “for being so kind.”

“Of course.” He stares down at you, his eyes settling on the side of your face while your cheek rests against him. You can hear his hand shuffling, although you’re unsure where until you feel his soft touch glide along your hair, pushing the strands back from your face. The act is soothing, your eyes closing to revel in the feeling. His fingers drag along your scalp, applying gentle pressure and a quiet hum settles deep within your chest.

Confliction pulls at your thoughts; just hours ago you were being broken up with and now you’re lying in another man’s bed. Truthfully, a man you hadn’t paid much attention to in the past years. To be fair, it was never on purpose. Your ex-boyfriend was never fond of male friendships; Josh was hardly an exception. You silently curse yourself for missing out on Jake. He’s just as sweet and kind as his twin; selfless, generous, and attentive. All traits he’s presented in just one hour. You imagine the years you could’ve spent experiencing it first-hand. If only you hadn’t spent them pushing him away for the sake of your ex. 

“I’m sorry, Jake.” You mumble. 

“Why? For what?” His movements halt, and your eyes open, your head turning to look up at him. His eyebrows are synched, riddled with concern.

“Not being your friend sooner.” You confess, now reflecting on all the times he obviously tried, but you were dismissive. “Listen, if I was ever mean to you–”

“Don’t.” He stops you, shaking his head and resting his hand against the cheek that once rested on his lap. “Don’t do that. You’ll only upset yourself further.” 

“But–”

“There is no ‘but.’” He repeats his earlier phrase. “We’re friends now. We have time.” 

Although he and Josh are certainly twins, they feel so… different. The connection that’s forming with Jake frightens you; it’s unknown and uncharted. With Josh, your friendship was immediate and effortless. With Jake, however, this newfound friendship doesn’t feel very friendly. Something tells you that the way you both say the word “friends,” it’s foreign and not entirely what you want.

Think realistically, you tell yourself. Perhaps sleep deprivation is manipulating your thoughts. For God’s sake, you’re emotionally vulnerable and the wounds are still bleeding. 

“I know, but,” Despite his disapproval of the word, you use it anyway, “we could’ve had more time.” And had Jake been fully integrated into your life sooner… Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe if you had met Jake before him…

“Hey.” his voice softly protests, and he lifts your head from his lap, moving to your level and laying right beside you. He lays face-to-face with you, examining the hills and curves of your face, accentuated by the dim lighting from his warm-toned lamp. He sighs, absently bringing his hand to your face and brushing the loose hair behind your ear, “I promise, it’s okay.” 

You nod, taking his word for it, even though you still feel unease and uncertainty. Sliding his hand just behind your head, he guides you to rest on his chest as he turns onto his back, staring intently at the ceiling. Your cheek molds against him, his body heat reddening the soft flesh, no doubt. Chasing comfort, you sling your arm over his waist and you’re surprised by how natural the position feels. Your leg intertwines with his, settling between them, as his arm wraps around your shoulder. His heart pounds in his chest, and regardless of his calm demeanor, his pulse is racing. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“I wish I knew you were this great sooner.” You laugh weakly against his chest, feeling him pull you in closer. 

“Me too.” He admits with a sigh, subtle disappointment lacing his tone. 

A comfortable silence falls, the only sound being the faint pounding of his heart and gentle exhales through his nose. Your eyelids grow heavy, your mind only focusing on the pattern of his breathing and the beat of his heart. A large yawn overcomes you, and you sigh deeply as it exits your lungs, your eyes settling on the open door. 

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“The door’s open.” You point out.

“That’s okay.” He turns to follow your gaze.

“What if Josh sees us like this?” With some explanation, he wouldn’t care, but a heads-up wouldn’t hurt either. You can only imagine how disconcerting it’ll make Josh feel if he were to walk in on his best friend cuddled up with his twin brother. If you had given it more thought, and hadn’t let your emotions dictate your every decision tonight, you would’ve been more cautious. However, Jake shuts down that thought. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. I’m not moving.” He decides, and when you look up at him, his eyes are closed. You decide to do the same, paying attention to the way his heart rate slows as he relaxes and, in turn, relaxes you. Jake’s arm holds you firmly, and your hand slides from his waist to his chest, resting against the solid flesh. Sleep follows shortly and engulfs you both in a comforting embrace.

Thump-thump.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Taglist & tags:

@hailthegodsong @demolitiondanchipsversion

[sirjaketkiszka]

Movie night sure does sound appealing… 😏

2025 Valentines Day Writing Event 💖

Helloooooo GVF Fic writers! Let’s get romantic with some Valentine’s Day writing 😍🫦

Prompts are below but the fine print first!

((This is inspired by last years event!))

🗣️ The Important Stuff!

❤️ Pick a prompt from the list below and write about it! The prompts range from sweet to a little spicy, but you’re welcome to adjust the spice level on any of the prompts. (Measure with your heart 😏) On your post, please note which prompt (or prompts) you picked for your fic!

❤️ This event is open to all GVF writers. (Even if you’ve never attempted to write before, feel free to join in!) If you’re a reader, show your love for GVF writers by liking their fics, reblogging them, and commenting in the reblog or even just in the tags. All fics from this event will be reblogged by me and added to a masterlist!

❤️ Fics can be written for any kind of pairings — x reader, slash, platonic, x oc, multi, whatever floats your boat! Any length fic is allowed (blurbs, oneshots, series) and all genres are welcomed! (From toothachingly sweet fluff to white knuckle gripping your bedsheets smut) 

❤️ Please make sure to clearly tag any potential triggers in your fic — we want this event to be accessible and fun for everyone. Please also use the ‘keep reading’ in any fics that are longer than blurb length!

❤️ Please be kind and respectful! This is simply to have fun and spread love. Don’t hate on others work just because you don’t care for it! Just scroll on my friend! 

❤️ Tag your fics with #gvfvalentines2025 — To be safe and so I don’t miss your fic, please tag me (@ seenoversundown) so I can reblog your fic and add it to the masterlist!

❤️ The deadline is February 14th, but I’ll be more than happy to add fics to the masterlist any time before or after Valentine’s Day if you post sooner rather than later! (But late is better than never💕)

- Picnic

- Cooking (together / for the other person / a class)

- Movie night

- Spa day

- Wine tasting

- Out to dinner

- Scavenger hunt

- Watching the sun rise, set, the stars etc.

- DIY boudoir photo shoot

- FaceTime date

- Love notes!

- Truth or Dare

- Anything you deem romantic! (As long as I’m swooning by the end! 😍)

Reblog & share! Tag your faves so we can spread some love! 💕

[sirjaketkiszka]

Hypothetically, if I asked for a beta reader— or two— would anyone be interested? Essentially, I just want someone to read the finished product and tell me whether it’s ready to be published or needs more polishing. In turn, we’d be besties! Even better, if you’re a writer and need a beta reader, I’m 100% open to doing so and we can talk all things writing together.

I’m currently still working on Best Friend’s Brother but I’m stuck because I’m not sure if what I have is good enough to continue. Would totally love some input!!

[sirjaketkiszka]

Best Friend’s Brother… Coming soon.

[sirjaketkiszka]

I’m happy to announce that I’m 1k words into Silver Springs chapter five, which is much further than I’ve gotten in months, and I’m aiming for close to 10k.

While writing this next chapter, I’m simultaneously working on the three one shots requested by a few of you. First on the list; a one shot filled with angst, fluff, and comfort. No smut.

A short summary for the untitled one shot— Your piece-of-shit boyfriend breaks up with you, making your head fall onto the nearest shoulder; Jake’s.

[sirjaketkiszka]

I have a request.. I know it’s not for everyone but this is what I’ve been dealing with and I think Jake would be so good with distraction.

Jake one shot where reader gets a bad panic attack to the point where she blacks out in the shower and he has to calm her down and uses the senses to calm her back down.

I will certainly add this to the list, I like how out of the ordinary it is. And even if it’s not for everyone, it’s for YOU, that’s all that matters! I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with this, I hope it’ll bring a sense of comfort to you <3

[sirjaketkiszka]

Something with a plus size reader, maybe some fluff or smut?

Well, of course! Little fun fact for ya, I purposely avoid writing specific details about the reader (i.e. weight, height, eye color, hair color, etc.) so it can be left to your imagination. BUT, I’d love to write a one shot specifically written for my plus size besties, as a mid size girly myself <3

[sirjaketkiszka]

This is just a genuine question, but do you only do Jake fics?

Most of the time, yes. HOWEVER, I’m open to any and all requests. I can’t promise the small details pertaining to Danny and Sam will be as accurate as Jake and Josh, mostly because I’m twin lane, but I can do my best <3

[sirjaketkiszka]

i would really be into some hurt/ comfort fic or just overall comfort. or!!! just fluff with a touch of angst. i obviously am just not a huge fan of smut, but i just love to read when something goes wrong and the fluff that comes out of it which is usually hurt comfort (even emotional hurt) or just angst with fluff at the end. love your writing as always!

Of course! I can certainly try and hopefully live up to your expectations. I’ve actually wanted to branch out and not just write smut, especially since it’s not everyone’s favorite. So, I will definitely be giving this a try!! If you have any specific requests/dialogue you want included in the one shot, feel free to message me or continue to use the submission box!!

If it piques your interest a little more, I plan for It’s a Sin to be a very, very slow burn. There will be smut eventually, but I don’t want it to be smut heavy like Silver Springs already is.

Anywho, thank you for the request, I’ll be working on it!!

[sirjaketkiszka]

Hey yall!

In an attempt to ease myself back into writing, I’m curious as to what one shots you’re interested in reading!! Please comment any requests on here, or post them to my suggestion box at the top of my page!! I would really appreciate it <3

[sirjaketkiszka]

Jake Kiszka One Shot: Lake Day

A lake day turned steamy.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,263

Warnings: 18+!!, sexual content, cursing, masturbation, kissing, dirty talk, shower sex, oral m!receiving, unprotected sex, the pet name “baby,” multiple orgasms, cream pie, and, of course, mediocre writing.

Disclaimer: Apologies for any potential spelling errors or grammar mistakes.

a/n: While doing a deep dive through my documents, I actually realized that this particular one shot is not the one that started Silver Springs, it was actually another unreleased one. However, I don’t plan on releasing that one any time soon, at least not until Silver Springs is finished. Anywho, enjoy!!

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The sound of splashing, yelling, and laughter disappears behind me as I ascend the steps of the rented lake house, entering the home through its back door. Josh’s parents, Kelly and Karen, thought it’d be a fun idea to rent out a lakehouse for us to kick off the summer, and they were right. Even better for them, they get the Kiszka house all to themselves for a few days. It works out for everyone.

Josh invited me to come with the group; the group being himself, Jake, Sam, and Danny. Of course, I couldn’t say no to him. The four boys are still enjoying their time in the lake, but I immediately called it quits once they started playing chicken– I’d only be a referee, but that doesn’t excuse me from potentially being toppled over by one of them. 

When I close the backdoor, the sound of their playful arguing is muffled, and a sigh of contentment leaves me when I’m met with temporary silence. As I walk around the decently large house, my limbs feel faintly sore from treading the water for what felt like hours. A small groan exits me on an exhale as I begrudgingly climb the stairs to my bedroom, my footsteps sounding heavy with each firm thud. 

Finally reaching the top of the stairs, I walk down the wide hall to my bedroom at the very end of it, an exhausted slump present in my stature. Crossing the threshold and closing the door behind me, I throw my beach towel directly onto my unmade bed and head for the connecting bathroom to shower. 

Time moves slowly while I grab a change of clothes from my open suitcase lying on the floor, and turn the shower on to administer hot water. I close the bathroom door but don’t bother to lock it, and I plop down on the counter waiting for the water to heat up. The remaining lake water in the hair that cascades down my shoulders sends a shiver up my spine, the summer heat no longer reaching the air-conditioned room to comfort me. 

My still-wet bathing suit clings to my body, intensifying the chills and goosebumps covering my arms and legs. When I stick my hand under the powerful stream of water and decide that I like the temperature, I take my bathing suit off. The wet fabric holds itself to my body, simulating a peeling effect as I pull it off. 

Throwing the wet garments into the corner of the bathroom, I carefully step into the shower and under the hot downpour. A satisfied groan pushes past my lips and echoes off the corners of the small bathroom when I feel the water descend down my body. The previous uncomfortable feeling of being cold disappears within an instant, my eyes closing in comfort as I turn away from the stream and tilt my head back under it. 

I race through my shower routine, most of it being muscle memory by now, and allow myself to enjoy some alone time, away from the guys. Using my hands to lather soap along my curves, I let my mind wander. My eyes still closed, I think about my day; waking up to the sound of the Kiszka siblings arguing in the kitchen, Josh and I fixing lunch for everyone by the lake, swimming in the lake– Jake shirtless. 

Oh, shirtless Jake. Josh, Sam, Danny, and I had already raced into the lake, water splashing violently as Sam desperately tried not to be the rotten egg– he was, as always. Jake took his time coming outside with us, of course, being too cool to participate in our child-like antics. His words, not mine, even though he and Sam initiated the game of chicken. 

He strutted to the edge of the lake where tiny waves flicked and licked at the gravel beneath his feet. Wearing black swim trunks that rest at his mid-thigh, he roughly grabbed the bottom hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Doing my best to divert my eyes, they still scanned over his physique. 

The waistband of his swim trunks hugged his hips perfectly, the faint outline of his v-line disappearing underneath the fabric. My eyes quickly scanned over the decently sized bulge in his shorts, my face heating at my observation. Just like his v-line, his abs were soft, and the curve of his waist was hardly noticeable. If it were possible, I felt my pupils grow three sizes bigger, and my mouth went dry at the sight of him. Like he could sense my gawking, his eyes met mine with a smug smirk plastered on his face. 

My cheeks embarrassingly carried a pink tint as I turned completely around while Jake walked deeper into the water. Walking right past me to his brothers, I took a moment to admire his back. The water beaded on his shoulder blades and upper back, emphasizing his smooth, tan skin. The tips of his long hair danced and floated beautifully in the water as he sunk further down, letting the gentle waves consume him up to his neck. 

When he stood back up, the water rushed down his body, producing a waterfall effect. Making sure no one was experiencing my staring problem, my eyes followed the flow of water down his body to his butt. Oh, my God. Of course, I knew he had a nice ass, but the wet swim trunks accentuated it. My eyes widened slightly and I shook my head to push away the unwanted, but actually wanted, and very welcome thoughts. 

A quiet sigh exits my lungs when I think back on Jake in the water, my hands wandering down my curves in the warm shower. Hesitantly, I allow my hands to explore the hills of my breasts, making my eyes remain closed and my head tilt back when my fingers rub over my firm nipples. 

Keeping one hand to attend to my breasts, the other travels down my stomach at a slow speed. My abdomen flinches when my fingers brush over my skin, the touch eventually reaching my lower belly, then stopping at my core. 

Flashes of Jake being shirtless plague my mind; his softly toned stomach, the way the muscles in his arms flex when he moves, his broad shoulders, and his sun-kissed skin. Slowly, I run my fingers along my slit, spreading them a bit to rub between my folds. I gasp out a quiet moan at the feeling, my lips remaining slightly parted as I continue my pace. 

Thoughts of Jake run through my mind, his name dancing on the tip of my tongue as I circle my aching clit. My knees grow weak, my other hand still firmly grasping at my breasts and occasionally pinching the stiff peaks. 

“J-” His name threatens to leave my mouth, the word so tempting to hear out loud. 

“Am I interrupting something?” A sultry, smug voice pulls me from my thoughts. 

“Jake!” I yell breathlessly, my hands immediately ripping themselves off my body. My eyes shoot open, and through the steamed glass of the shower door, Jake’s silhouette stands in my bathroom. I open the shower door, my hands doing their best to cover my breasts and soaking cunt, and I poke my head out of the shower, “What the fuck are you doing in here?!” I look around frantically. 

“Don’t stop on my account,” He smirks, his eyes traveling down my wet body. He’s leaning against the counter, his hands braced on the edge on either side of him. His hair is decently damp, and his swim trunks are snug against his thighs and growing bulge. And of course, he’s shirtless. My eyes linger on his appearance for a split second before I remember the situation at hand. 

“Jake, are you trying to get caught?” I whisper-yell, my teeth baring at him for his recklessness. My face heats up from absolute embarrassment and my hands continue to desperately grasp at my body to cover up. 

“Relax, sweetheart,” He smiles, still looking at my body, but his eyes stop when he sees my hand cupping my pussy. His eyes become dark, his smile slowly fading and his eyebrows furrowing, “Keep going.” He orders, nudging his head toward my lower half. 

“What?” I frown, my eyes traveling to my hand between my legs. Despite the ridiculous position I’m in, my core clenches at his suggestion, my fingers itching to continue my previous actions. Slightly shaking my head to push away any provocative thoughts, I look at his concentrated face again and continue questioning him, “Why are you in here?” I ask again.

“Couldn’t get you out of my head,” Answering truthfully, he rakes his eyes over my body once more and eventually lands on my piercing glare. “How good you looked in your bikini,” He steps away from the counter and closer to me, “The way you looked getting out of the water,” He continues getting closer and my breath hitches, “The water running down your curves,” Cocking a brow, he looks me up and down, “Much like now.” 

“Jake–” I try to say something, but his words are clouding my thoughts. 

“Do you want this?” He asks, silently signaling between the two of us.

“We said we wouldn’t,” I sigh, my eyes drifting to the ground, “not again.”

“But do you want this?” He pushes, his feet planted half a foot away from me.

“Yes,” I let out in a barely audible whisper. 

The tension in his shoulders dissipates, and his handsome smirk returns. His ease prompts me to remove my hands from my body, allowing myself to be presented to him. His lips part slightly and his pupils expand nearly to the edge of his deep brown irises. My eyes drift down to his shorts, the fabric straining against his erection, and I swallow hard at the sight.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” He says lowly, closing the distance between us and placing his hands on either side of my face. Planting his soft lips on mine, my eyes flutter close and I hum at his slow, but thorough pace. My hands find their way to his bare waist, my fingers gently sinking into his hot skin. 

He steps forward, the kiss unbreaking, making me step back into the shower and underneath the water flow. We continue stepping further into the shower until I’m pushed against the tile wall, the water cascading down Jake’s back. Our kiss grows hungry, my hands grasping at his waist to pull him closer to me. 

The feeling of Jake’s erection on my lower belly causes me to moan, and he breaks the kiss. Resting his forehead on mine and removing his hands from my face, we quietly pant while locking eyes. His hands come up to settle on the tile wall behind me, his arms caging me in. “Touch yourself,” He lets out in a breath, “Play with your pussy.” 

“O-okay,” I say uncertainly, removing one of my hands from his waist and running it down my lower belly to my cunt. My chest rises when I suck in a soft gasp, my fingers finding my swollen clit immediately. I begin rubbing slow circles around the bundle of nerves, my mouth falling open to let out whispered sighs. 

“That’s it, baby,” He praises, his eyes drifting down to the hand between my legs as he keeps his gaze locked. Small whines exit my throat, disappearing from the sound of the running water, “Were you thinking about me?” Jake asks, his eyes on mine again.

“Yes,” I whisper, a little embarrassed.

“Good,” He smirks and his eyes return to my cunt. The pace of my fingers quickens on my clit and I can feel the familiar sensation of heat pooling in my belly. Needing to feel him, my other hand leaves his waist and hooks into the waistband of his swim shorts, but one of his hands leaves the walls and grabs my wrist, “Not right now.” 

“Why not?” I ask breathlessly, my chest rising and falling rapidly at my relentless pace.

“I need to watch you come first,” He clarifies with lust lacing his husky voice. Still gripping my wrist, he brings it up to the side of my head, pinning it against the rough wall. My knees grow weak as I stop the circles on my clit and push two fingers into my soaking entrance. “That’s right, baby, show me how you touch yourself when you think of me.” His words send a rush of pleasure down my spine and I moan in response. 

“What if they hear me?” I whine, growing worried that if Jake was inside the house, then the others must be too. Regardless, my fingers pump in and out of me at a consistent pace.

“It’s okay,” He soothes, giving me a reassuring hold on my wrist, “They’re still outside.” Relief washes over me at his statement, and I curl my fingers slightly to brush against my G-spot. The spongey flesh sends waves of tingles throughout my entire body, my legs beginning to shake with my nearing orgasm. 

When my moans grow louder and needier, he pulls his head away from my forehead to get a better look. My body writhes against the cold tile, my stomach clenching with each pass of my fingers, and my chest heaving. His gaze is fixed on my pumping hand, and his breathing noticeably changes.

“I’m gonna come,” I choke out between heavy breaths, my restricted hand trying to hold onto anything. Noticing my effort, he readjusts his hand so our fingers are interlocked, but he still holds mine against the wall. His eyes travel back up to mine and he scans my face, his eyebrows scrunching in anticipation. 

“Come on, baby,” He encourages me, his eyes watching my face contort, “Come on your fingers.” 

“Oh, god!” I cry out, my fingers speeding up even more as my orgasm reaches its peak and falls over the edge. My walls frantically flutter around my fingers, and a rush of cum drenches them. Coming off of the wall, my back arches as my hips grind against my hand, and I keep my eyes on Jake. My jaw falls slack to make way for the strained moans and heavy pants to push past my lips. Jake’s face expresses a different kind of pleasure, his eyes dark and lips slightly parted. His wet hair clings to his face, framing his focused expression as I ride out the rest of my orgasm. 

“So fucking pretty,” He whispers, planting a kiss on my forehead and my temple. A whimper escapes me when I pull my fingers out of me, and Jake uses his other hand to grab my now-free hand. He doesn’t say a word as he brings my hand to his lips, parting them further to allow my cum-soaked fingers to invade his mouth. He hums at the taste, his eyes locked on mine as I let out a tiny gasp at the feeling of his tongue caressing my fingers. “So good,” He mutters when he removes my fingers, placing tender kisses along the inside of my wrist. 

I can’t help but watch in awe while he’s doing this, causing my thighs to absentmindedly rub together. His eyes flick down to my legs, his smirk returning when he realizes I’m ready for him. Releasing both of my hands, he undoes the string to his swim trunks and hooks his thumbs into the waistband, stretching it before pulling them down. My mouth waters when his shaft appears first, and eventually his entire erection springs free from the confines of his shorts. 

My hands fidget at my sides, waiting for any instruction of some sort. He allows his shorts to fall to his feet, nudging them to be right in front of him, “Get on your knees,” He orders, and the request takes me by surprise, “Do it.” He demands.

Nodding, I push myself off of the wall and slowly sink to my knees, our gazes holding strong eye contact. His eyes become hooded when I’m fully seated on the back of my heels, my knees pressing into his discarded swim shorts, and my face level with his cock. Nervous, one of my hands comes up to grab his shaft, and the action causes his hips to jerk a bit. Slowly, I begin stroking his cock, watching his face in the process. 

His eyebrows furrow at the sensation, his bottom lip catching between his perfect teeth. When he seems to like it, I speed up a little and make my hold on him more firm. My thumb occasionally swipes his sensitive tip, spreading the leaking precum around the surface, and making small grunts leave his lips. Growing confident, I lean forward and swipe my tongue along the bottom of his shaft, making sure to swirl it around his tip, 

“Oh, fuck,” Jake whines from above me. One of his hands comes up to brace himself against the shower wall while the other rests on the back of my head. Flashing him a devious smile, I lick him again, and I notice the flex in his thighs when I do. I do this a couple more times before giving in and pushing his tip into my mouth. Sucking lightly, my tongue runs along the small slit, earning a groan from Jake, “That’s it, baby, suck my cock.”

His words send a rush of heat to my aching core, and I push myself further onto his cock. Stopping when I feel his tip brush against the back of my throat, I pull away just enough and push him back in. He runs his fingers through my wet hair, pushing away any strands plastered on my face. A string of whines, grunts, and groans push past Jake’s plump lips, and I watch as his face contorts to reflect his pleasure. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” He strains. I attempt to quicken my pace, desperate to make him finish inside my mouth, but he gently grips my hair at the roots and pulls me off of him. Confused, I open my mouth to say something, but he cuts me off, “I need to fuck you again,” He declares, “Stand up.” 

Without skipping a beat, I lift myself and stand in front of him, awaiting instruction.

“Come here,” He says, grabbing at my waist to rotate me and push me against the glass wall next to the shower door. My hands land on the steamy glass, the condensation beading and dripping beneath my touch. Through the fogged glass, I can see our silhouettes from the bathroom mirror parallel to the shower. Jake moves behind me and his forearm comes up to press against my shoulder blades, “Spread your legs.” He orders.

Doing as he says, I shuffle my feet further apart and arch my back slightly, my breasts pushing against the cold glass. I turn my head and let the side of my face rest against the glass as well, and I watch Jake from the corner of my eye. The stream of water is hitting his side, but he doesn’t seem to mind because his attention is fully on my anxious core. 

His free hand curls around his erection, pumping quickly as he runs the tip of his cock along my wet folds. I let out a breathy moan at the feeling, anticipation bubbling in my gut. After a couple of passes through my slit, the head of his cock nudges at my entrance, causing my knees to lock. 

Slowly, he moves his hips forward, his hard length entering me at an antagonizing rate. We both hold our breath as he does this, his arm still digging into my upper back, and the other hand coming up to grab my hip. When he’s fully inside of me, we let out satisfied, relieved groans. Staying still for a moment, my pussy walls pulse around him involuntarily, pulling a breathless chuckle from him. 

Finally releasing the hold against my back, he grips my other hip before beginning to pull back, only to push back in. With every slow pass, my walls relax, allowing him to thrust into me with ease. His hold on my hips tightens when he picks up the speed, making consistent grunts push past his clenched teeth. My moans mimic his grunts, our voices alternating with each pump. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Jake groans from behind me, his pace remaining steady, “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” He confesses.

“Me either,” I moan, my eyes fluttering close.

“All day,” He continues, “I imagine how you look when you come, and how we said we’d never do this again.” The pace becomes faster, prompting me to push my hips back against him for support.

“Jake,” I whine his name.

“God, I love hearing you say my name,” He growls lowly, “Say it again– tell me how good I fuck you.” 

“You fuck me so well, Jake,” I cry out, my legs growing weak from his relentless pace.

“Tell me this won’t be enough for you either,” He commands, his fingers digging deeply into my soft flesh, “That you can’t stop thinking about me.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” I whine, and it’s the truth. For weeks I’ve thought of Jake, the first time we hooked up, and how we said it was a mistake. I was beginning to wonder if he really felt that way, and I’m happy to know he doesn't, “This isn’t enough, Jake, it will never be enough.” I confess, earning a tortured groan from Jake. 

“Good,” He responds. Replacing his previous groans, he lets out heavy breaths that land on my back. My fingers curl against the glass wall, my second orgasm tightening in my core. “You’re mine.” He mutters through bared teeth. 

His words are enough to send my climax to its highest peak and I moan uncontrollably as I’m getting incredibly close. The thrusts alone are not enough to push it over the edge and I grow frustrated, “Please, fuck, I’m so close.” 

As if reading my mind, one of Jake’s hands leaves my hip and reaches around to my clit. His fingers brush rough circles around the swollen bud and my knees begin to shake violently. He pounds harder, and more thoroughly, and it does the job. 

“Oh my God!” I cry loudly and the echoes of my high-pitched whine surround us. The coil in my belly snaps, sending a rush of heat that liquefies down my lower body. My pussy walls rapidly squeeze his cock, my cum coating the surface and dripping down to my inner thighs. His remaining grip on my hip prevents me from squirming against him as he continues fucking me. My second climax washes away quickly and is replaced by the aftershock pulses and overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. 

“Jake, please,” I say, a whimper getting caught in my throat as he continues his pace– as if he could go on for hours.

“Hold on,” He grits out, his voice sounding flustered and frustrated, “God, I can’t get enough, you feel too fucking good.” 

“Jake,” I whine, my legs threatening to close at the overwhelming sensation, “Please,” I beg, wanting him to finish like I did, “Come inside me.” 

“Oh, fuck,” His words come out in a surprised, rush tone and I feel him twitch inside me simultaneously. His pace falters as he finishes; spurts of hot cum coating my spasming walls. With each shot of cum, his thrusts slow down, up until he is completely finished. He lets out a shuttered breath and leans forward, planting soft kisses on my shoulder. I smile at the motion and open my eyes to look back at him. He looks spent with cheeks a bright shade of pink, shiny lips, and eyes mirroring his exhaustion. 

He offers me a crooked smile before hesitantly pulling out of me. We both moan at the feeling, and I immediately feel the rush of our climaxes dripping down my thighs. Turning around, I look at him, unsure of what to do now; all of this is still new to us. He takes one last look at my naked body and bends down to grab his swim trunks, “I should go,” He says a little too harshly, and my face falls a little, “Before anyone comes inside.” He clarifies, catching my reaction. 

“Definitely,” I chuckle, taking a good look at him. His cock is still decently hard, although not completely, and his body is sporting beads of water. His hair is still soaked from the shower’s downpour, and small droplets of water drip from the ends of it. He looks god-like; his tanned chest now rising and falling at a normal rate, and his stomach occasionally flexing. 

He smirks at me for shamelessly checking him out, and laughs softly, shaking his head. I playfully roll my eyes at him and motion for him to get out so I can wash my body… again. Before stepping out of the shower, he places a hand behind my neck and plants a soft kiss on my lips. He barely allows me enough time to reciprocate before he’s out of the shower, shoving his wet shorts back on, and out of the bathroom. 

Ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of my mind, I retrace my steps in my shower routine, being sure to clean the mess between my legs. A mess I quite like having.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

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[sirjaketkiszka]

The results are in!! I’ll be posting Lake Day, the one shot that inspired Silver Springs, very soon! I’m going to proofread it, edit any errors, and share it with you all by tonight. Much love, thanks for voting! <3