#GVF Fan fiction

[wildbluesorbit]

London || JTK

18+MDNI

LONDON SERIES MASTERPOST

Paring: asshole!Jakexreader(f)

A/N: ITS FINALLY HERE! I can’t even tell y’all how nervous I am; this is my first fic AND the first smut I’ve ever written. I’m a Third Eye Blind freak and just generally think this song is one of the sexiest songs in existence so naturally I knew I wanted to write this fic. Big big love and thank you’s for my editor @tommie-gvf. I loved writing this so much and didn’t think it could get any better until I saw everyone’s reactions.❤️‍🩹

I ask for your patience as I’m a beginner and am very open to criticism. Pretty please tell me what you think!

Summary || Jake has a lover that lives in London. He visits her every time he’s in town, but recently the simmering situationship has taken a toxic turn.

Content Warnings || swearing, alcohol consumption, party setting, toxic relationship, jealousy, over possession, verbal aggression, slight physical aggression, big angst, graphic sexual depictions

Kink Content || dom(m) and sub(f) shift, [semi] public sex, dirty talk; praise & [public] degradation, sadism, zelophilia, katoptronophilia, daddy kink, slight impact play, nipple play, dry humping, hand job, ejaculation(f), oral sex(f receiving), penetrational sex

Word Count || 8.3k+

*disclaimer - I have no idea how to write any European, reader’s origin is up for interpretation*

You continue to refresh your phone screen in hopes that it will load a new message or maybe even reveal a glitch.

“You know,” your best friend, Claire, aspires to tempt you back to reality, “that guy hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since we got here, right?”

A hum in acknowledgment of her bait is the only thing your split attention will allow as you proceed in refreshing your messages. Even going as far to restart your phone.

“He's kind of cute,” you return another hum as she sings further, “like really cute.”

“Go on then, have a go,” you try to push her self-assigned matchmaking duties back on her.

You have no choice but to be shoved back into the rumbustious surroundings of the overpopulated flat party as your phone is suddenly ripped from your hands. Claire raises it above her head not even bothering to investigate what might be holding you hostage. She is well aware of your antics.

“Please don’t tell me you're texting him again,” she lifts the device higher as you futilely lunge for it.

“He said he was coming,” you begin to gather a defense, “but I haven’t gotten a response since I sent the address… maybe hold my phone a bit higher?”

Claire lets out a monstrous groan of frustration and rolls her eyes, “You really are helpless!”

“I know,” you repine and give her your best pleading puppy dog eyes and hold two starving hands out in front of you.

Begrudgingly she gives in, slamming your phone against your awaiting palms. As soon as your phone is back in your possession you return to refreshing your messages. All in vain of course.

Whenever Jake was in London he always visited you, sometimes even flying you out to whatever part of Europe his show was in or just because he wanted to see you. A trail of one night stands that became ritual.

The nights always started out modest, the two of you innocently traipsing about parties and bars accompanied by his brothers. You would all share drinks and stories for hours, belly laughing until you were ceased by sore ribs, as if you had all been friends for decades.

Nevertheless without fail, as the drinks poured further so did Jake’s appetite for you. He'd always shadow you with some kind of seemingly harmless touch; a hand on the small of your back progressed into squeezing your knee and then thigh, to tugging you into him by the waist when he was made uncomfortable or wanted to share a secret amongst chaotic surroundings.

One by one, his brothers would slowly fade out; Sam first, then Danny, and Josh was always the last to let the party die, taking it with him when he went. From that point, the evenings between you and Jake would morph into a primitive and sensual burn. Teasing and tearing at each other until the two of you eventually spent the rest of your night curled around the other. Once again, darting back to your guarded bubble of shy soft intimacy; neither of you willing to accept it was different from anything else anyone made you feel. Time spent together was something the both of you always rushed through days for, memories neatly placed in a treasure chest of beloved keepsakes when it was over.

But lately, it was different. Something brittle and bitter had blossomed. Jake had gotten only bigger and busier. Sometimes, he’d pule about missing you so naturally you’d beg to see him. He’d send beautiful trinkets and fine clothing from whatever part of the world he was in that next week to ineffectively make up for his absence no token would ever emulate.

Though you are elated for him, you are also acutely aware of your need to move on in order to outrun the pining tidal wave that threatens to swallow you whole. You’d tried before, but no man was Jake. And seeing you with other men only spelled him into an envious fit. A sight that tormented you both, the other too afraid to cry out as nothing was ever set in stone.

So instead you’d go to war over some irrelative thing and he’d ultimately swear on his beloved he didn’t give a shit about you and when or if he’d see you again; only to gift you some pretty peace offering in amends to offset the vigorous cycle once again.

Like a vinyl record against the needle, the two of you are going round and round the same circle; different songs, same sonic. You know if the pattern continues, you are slowly headed towards the dead wax. You hope tonight will mend the broken pieces between you as he vowed he’d come to spoil you a few weeks ago.

“You need to cut him off,” Claire has stated her stance on the situationship brazenly before, “all he does is treat you like shit. He entertains you from a distance and keeps you waiting until he wants to get his dick wet.”

Having been through this debate with her many times, you only frown and exhale, “It's not like that and you know it.”

She mirrors your disapproval, “Isn’t it?”

Just as you are forming your rebuttal your phone buzzes in your hands; confiscating your ability to exist anywhere other than your screen. It might as well have looked like you were going to dial 9-9-9 the way you dementedly scramble to open your phone.

JAKE:

Hey, angel. Sorry, I got stuck at this dive with my brothers and now they don’t want to leave. I think we’re just going to spend the rest of the night here. Maybe I’ll catch you next time?

You had not been enjoying your time at this party. You had been ignoring your best friend. You had been ignoring cute flirty strangers. You had been exuberantly anticipating Jake’s company tonight for months. All to be left on read, pathetically pining for hours now. All to be stood up by the man.

Your chest bursts with flames of mortified resentment, fueled by his impudence. Irate does not even scratch the surface of how your heart pounds. Your blood is scalding, skin scorching.

Jake made you feel stupid yet again.

Your face must give you away before you can even get out a word of impertinence as you look up from the insolent text to see Claire smugly sipping her drink.

A knowing smirk spreads viral across her face, “He's not coming, is he?”

The last thing you want to do is tell her bitch ass she is right in your state of red. Instead, you offer her a question you know will sate her pride without feeding on your wounds.

A vengeful grin takes hold of you “Cute stranger checking me out, you mentioned?”

You have never seen her look so pleased with herself as she nods in the direction of a man at the end of the bar whose gaze you hold.

There is no way you are going to let this night go to waste. Not after Jake made such a desperate-looking fool out of you.

You decide if he is going to ignore you it's going to be his loss, not yours. You are not going to let him waste your time and you are definitely not going to let him take your fun.

You throw your most alluring eyes and innocent smile at the stranger and wave him over. He returns the greeting and calls some indiscernible phrases out to the bartender before receiving three drinks and walking over to your table.

He is tall, dark, and handsome. The complete opposite of Jake. A promise of great distraction.

He sets the three drinks down at your table pushing two glasses of what he claims to be screwdrivers towards Claire and yourself. He then proceeds to introduce himself as Hunter through an almost seemingly painful giant smile.

You can’t help but compare it to your favorite pretty and childlike grin Jake always wore, a sight you ache for.

You cordially engage in small talk with him, asking and answering the procedural, “Where are you from?”, “What do you do?”, and “What do you like to do?”; fitting in the occasional desirous glances and seemingly innocent yet lingering touches when appropriate.

He is definitely funny, but not witty and satirical like Jake’s humor; undeniably intelligent, but not in the philosophical and existential sense like Jake.

You mentally berate yourself for still thinking about a guy who is obviously not thinking about you when Hunter clutches your hand, ripping you from your dissociation.

He points towards the middle of the flat where you see multiple people frolicking about, “Do you want to dance?”

Why the hell not? You throw back the rest of your drink and smirk wide in response. This seems to oddly appease Hunter but you think nothing of it as you feel yourself being towed to the make-shift dance floor.

At first, the movements are modest, just an adventurous activity between acquaintances. But after a few songs, you feel the alcohol rid you of your inhibitions, most likely against your better judgment, but at this moment you can’t seem to wrap your fingers around any care if you tried.

You grind and tangle yourself up with this man you hardly know. He seems into it and you are blissfully swept away from your afflictions, a win-win. So what is the harm?

As soon as the thought has come and gone, you feel it; an overwhelming perilous sensation of being surveilled. You turn your attention over to where you had left Claire at your table to see her deeply engaged in conversation with Josh.

Fuck. Where there is a Josh there is most certainly a Jake.

You whirl towards the flat’s bar to lock eyes with the source of the sinister stare; an infuriated Jake leaning against the countertop, arms crossed. He holds your gaping stare with a blistering nostril-flared one of his own, licking over his salient bottom lip into that bewitching pout and clenching his jaw.

A small part of you threatens to collapse under guilt as if you have been caught doing something wrong. But you find the majority of you seethes under a new tantalizing flame, devouring any clemency present.

Almost drunk off of this new power dynamic; finally, you have the upper hand and Jake is the one squirming. Of course, you want Jake over this clown any day of the week but he had made you wait almost all night, he can definitely handle a few more minutes.

You spin, now facing towards Jake’s beaming acrimony from the bar, allowing him a full access view to you commandeering one of Hunter's hands connected to the small of your back and slowly guiding him down to your ass, the other to your waist. You press your backside against his pelvis and his hips follow, grinding in the motions of your own.

You stretch upward as high behind you as you can, sinking your fingers into Hunter’s thick black curls. Just to sell it, you showmanly lean your head back against Hunter’s shoulder and whisper sweet nothings in his ear when he leans down into you.

You glance up at your petulant victim to see Jake roll his eyes and throw his head back in a deriding chuckle before he slams down the rest of his pint. Jake is most certainly under your spell.

You tell yourself that each song with Hunter is the last dance until you’re unsure how many have passed. Any concept of time you own is completely suspended in the delicious way Jake looks when he is hungry to devour what he can’t have, and in this moment it happens to be you.

Abruptly, you feel yourself being swept towards the nearest wall and your face being tilted up towards Hunter’s as he cranes his mouth down to meet yours.

It is nice. Pleasurable for sure. He is definitely a good kisser, but again all you can bring yourself to think of is Jake’s perfectly pink pouty lips pressed against yours.

There is no point in tormenting Jake if you are just as miserable.

As you are about to break away from the stale kiss, Hunter’s weight that is pinning you up against the wall unexpectedly falters, sending you fumbling to the floor. You attempt to regain your balance but the room is slightly spinning, a likely side effect from the alcohol in your bloodstream. You might have questioned it having only had a drink or two if your focus wasn’t currently employed by figuring your way back to vertical.

A hand makes its way into your line of sight, offering to help you up. You swat away the aid, recognizing it as Jake’s. He huffs and shakes his head vexed. Jake brings himself closer to the whirling stack of bones that you are on the floor and tenaciously claps his rangy hands around your waist; making a show to assign his fingers in the exact arrangement where Hunter’s had just been. He devoutly springs you to your feet as if you'd rehearsed the move. As soon as you gain your footing you step back from Jake and dust yourself off, despite landing on a clean floor.

You inspect your crumbs of clues; the boys glaring at each other and at the brink of verbal warfare. You arrive at the conclusion that a fuming Jake had let all restraint dissipate as he shoved Hunter off of you in his impulsive fit.

“Why don’t you go find some other victim to slam into a wall,” Jake snarls, “she’s had enough for tonight.”

“She didn’t seem to have a problem when she was dancing all over me,” Hunter shoots back genuinely confused, “are you supposed to be her boyfriend or something?”

You race to interject, “He is not,” addressing Hunter but then throw your finger in Jake’s face, “and you have no right-”

Hunter takes one big territorial step to cleat himself between you and your oppressor. An exasperated Jake scowls at your fictitious defender and back to you, his features melting into a sickened sight as if to ask if you are really going to allow him to be vilified as the threat.

Of course protection from Jake is the last thing you will ever need. He could say whatever he’d like but Jake will never lay a harmful finger to you.

However, the hunt makes the game. You subtly shrug at Jake and let the mens’ egos carry out your dirty work.

Hunter sets his fist on Jake’s sternum in an attempt to get him to step back, “Mate, she doesn’t seem to be into it so why don’t you give us some space.”

This is the trigger that detonates the antagonized man just in front of your human shield.

“Oh trust me, mate,” he mimics Hunter in an explosion, the shrapnel riding your blood to your cheeks, “when I say I happen to know what the little slut is into and it is definitely not-” Jake is cut off by a panicky Josh now stepping in between the two before Jake can say anything he can’t take back.

Josh seems to instruct his detesting brother through glances. You always find it hard to properly digest a situation with the appropriate amount of severity when the twins begin conversing with mere facial expressions.

It only lasts for a second or two before Jake refixes his glare towards Hunter. Mirroring Jake, Josh returns to Hunter with an antsy smile and places a friendly hand on his barely-reachable shoulder, as if he is about to deliver bad news.

“Sorry about him,” he starts to mediate, motioning towards his fuming twin he shrugs and chuckles nervously, “tequila makes him aggressive.”

You almost giggle at Josh’s flamboyant rescue. He is a detail oriented man who is verbally quick on his feet. He usually paints pictures you can not poke holes in. So you know he must be distraught or drunk as you hadn't even seen Jake drink an ounce of liquor since he arrived.

However, Hunter doesn’t seem quite as amused as he slaps Josh's hand off and grunts, “Whatever, I don’t do crazy exes anyway.”

He insincerely waves you off and facetiously blows Jake a kiss in one last satirical jab before sauntering off, dematerializing amongst the crowd.

Jake now recoils from Josh’s touch and waits for him to vanish as well. However, Josh’s sight seeks you and bears a disapproving nod, warning you to behave in a glower. For a split second, you forget he is a twin as his protective demeanor is all that of a vigilant elder sibling.

Nevertheless, Josh makes his way back to where he had been so unnecessarily interrupted and dragged away from Claire.

Your attention gravitates to Jake in daggers. Before you can form any thoughts or strategy, venom goes flying past your lips, “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!”

Jake swivels his head around, slightly panicking at all the partygoers that had stopped party going to sightsee this freak show. He never likes to be the center of attention unless he has six strings and a fretboard under his fingers.

Nimbly, he leads you by the arm into the nearby bathroom and slams the door shut.

You throw your arms out in confusion, “Have you lost your fucking mind?!”

He fires back, “No, just my patience with you!”

The room is small enough now that his scent circulates and the offensive smell of beer and bourbon attacks your senses; which explains his uncharacteristic boldness.

“Shit, Jake, you smell like a fucking brewery,” you spit out.

He seems to grasp how sloppy he let himself get. Your words siphon a hint of sobriety as he takes a deep breath and now speaks to you with a much more repealed approach.

You can tell he is still upset but is focusing on his convictions for the moment, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean for you to fall like that.”

He hesitates, “And I’m sorry- I have no idea why I called you slut- I didn’t mean-”

You are nearly swept away by the sweet breeze of your angelic Jake; the one that trips over his words when he gets excited and loves to take on whimsical personas of his own invention. Jake that is present and kind, even at the end of the night. But just like a fleeting breeze, you easily withstand his charms.

He may have found his composure but you certainly did not, not that you want to, “I’m fine, Jacob! Want to explain whatever the shit that was?!”

Any remorse present in his tone abandons him, “Oh please, you wanted that! I could see it all over your face while you were messing with that prick. I don’t even know why I'm surprised. You’re like a child who throws a fucking fit. The moment I don't do or tell you exactly what you want you go throw yourself into the arms of some random no-good fuck. I knew you were with him as soon as you went radio silent.”

You narrow your eyes at him. You’re almost suspicious of the blank canvas he’s left for you to fill in with logic; he’s usually ten points ahead when debating, never speaking a vulnerable statement for someone to collapse before him. You are almost hesitant to ask the question.

Your hand finds your hip as a means to reinforce your interrogation, “That’s just it, isn’t it? You don’t own me, Jake! So what if I was dancing with Hunter?”

He rolls his eyes and growls at the mention of his name. If Jake were an ounce more theatrical you swear he would have gagged too.

You cross your arms and lean into the balls of your feet as you sharpen your questions, knowing you have him trapped, “If you knew, why did you even show up then? Why do you even care? It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything?”

He blurts out way too quickly to disguise any aloofness, “I don’t care!”

Jake immediately throws his head back in defeat and groans, crumbling under further rumination of your questions, as if they frustrate him as much as they do you, “I don’t know! You just- It kills me to see you- sometimes- you make me so-”

He is struggling to articulate his thoughts without making himself look like the blatant asshole, but you see right through it.

You, however, have no problem spitting the word out. In fact, it progresses the igneous tension between the two of you into a delicious sweltering burn.

You dangle the word right in front of him just to watch him squirm, “Jealous?”

The accusation furrows his brow and tightens his shoulders.

If you didn’t know any better, his sudden dark tone would have you red with shame for such an accusation, “You think I’m jealous? Trust me, kitten, you haven’t even seen jealousy. Go fuck that guy for all I care.”

You giggle and raise a slanderous eyebrow, soundlessly challenging his overtly bogus defense. Your defiance vacillates Jake back to his munition.

He charges towards you, his footsteps following the alignment of his pointer finger swinging in your direction, “What the fuck are you smiling at- You know what?! Fuck this and fuck you! You always do this. Always getting me into more trouble than I bargain for.”

Jake is growling in fragments now, growing taller with every step he takes drawing in towards you, surrendering to your gravity.

“This isn’t me! I’m not this person who gets jealous and fights with strangers at a party,” he gestures his clenched fists towards you, arms length away now, “And I don’t like being angry with you!”

Jake corners you between the wall and a stall, yet his rushing commute ceases to falter, “And what’s worse is I actually think you enjoy this! You must get off on this! I think you want to see me lose my mind!”

Jake is close enough that you are now confronted by the moles that cradle his right jaw, the charming silver starting to streak from his temples, the sculpt in the cartilage of his prominent nose, the slight uneven curl of his upper lip and the barely there freckles that line the ample lower. Details no camera could capture and no screaming fan could ever have knowledge of; intimate details one would ever amass without his admission.

If he moves any closer he would have to kiss you. He scolded you for getting worked up off his anger when he was doing the exact same thing. The worst part being you aren’t even sure if he has caught on to this rage-driven gravitation between the two of you. His face reads, “Caution, stay away,” but his body is imploring you to take care of him. He is right where you want him, giving you all the power once again.

He resumes waving his finger at you and stiffly pokes your collarbone. He opens his mouth to make another point but his words never deliver themselves. You see his very thoughts dematerialize as he touches your buzzing skin.

He doesn’t even lift his finger from you, just lets it fall to the start of your breasts, making your chest heave. He subconsciously presses his body to yours; so close you catch his erratic breaths on your lips.

You hastily retort while he is distracted, “That’s pretty amusing considering you're the asshole that ruined my night, not the other way around, slut.”

He rakes the pad of his finger still connected to you, up your clavicle till it rests at the top of your outermost prominent neck muscle, delicately wrapping the rest of his digits around your throat once he runs out of room. He sinks further into your orbit so that he is now hovering just above your features.

“Look at you, just begging for someone to put you in your place,” he rasps out, ever so slightly applying a teasing pressure to reduce your air flow.

Collecting yourself enough to stream your words out in a lazy river, you dare taunt the feral man that holds your next breath between his fingers, “Look at you, Jacob, absolutely rabid with jealousy.”

“I’ve had it with your little attitude,” his hand delectably contorts further around your throat in a fit of conniption as he roars through clenched teeth, “look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t fucking drag me here to make me jealous.”

“Bite me, Jake,” you roll your eyes at his arrogance.

You expect him to snap at you, to reprimand you for your insubordination. However, to your surprise he laps one long stripe from the corner of your pout to the start of your cheekbone. The action expels your nerves into shock; a shudder slithers its way up your spine.

Jake sighs against the shell of your ear, “Is that why you’re being such a little fucking brat? You just want me to bite you, sweetheart? Is that it?”

Your only response is a whimper as a crackling heat awakes between your thighs and your hips grind into Jake on their own accord; giving him the only answer he needs.

Satiated by your feedback, Jake nearly moans at regaining the upper hand, “I swear- and why should I even care, kitten?”

You urgently squeal, struggling against your constricting airway, “Because it’s your fault! I’ve never craved attention until you did this to me!”

Cocking his head to the side to purport the appearance of a disapproving analysis, he mocks your need, “How did we end up like this, beautiful? We are absolutely no good for each other.”

You don’t bother devising a clever response, knowing he’s already decided to give you what you want.

He clenches his jaw and runs his tongue along the ridges of his teeth, twisting the pink muscle into the crevices of his molars, “It’s rude to stare, kitten. Do I need to teach you how to use that pretty smart mouth of yours?”

You only bat your eyes at him, your expressionless face waiting for what you know comes next.

He raises an eyebrow at you, impatient for some response and mutters, “Say something.”

A shit-eating grin sneaks its way onto your face, “Don’t forget to lock the door, babyboy.”

Jake’s once kind eyes grow dark to an absolutely immoral shade of lust. Heedlessly, his lips crash against yours, the sensation you’ve fantasized about since the last time his mouth deserted yours. He tastes of bourbon and peaches.

He slips his hands around your ass and hauls you up to straddle his waist. You wrap your legs around him as he staggers towards the door lock as you instructed, as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you long enough to complete the task first.

Jake places you on the sink and protestingly pries himself back from you, as if starving for more but looking at you was a vital duty he must perform.

His eyes plot you up and down, infatuated with this strand of you, reserved only for him. You don’t have to say a word for Jake to know what happens when he’s away; the way you move for him confesses everything he is already aware of. He is the only one capable of having you completely and utterly vulnerable and unguarded and unadulterated. Animalistically yourself.

For the first time tonight, Jake’s pretty pout draws back in a genuine smile for you; a giddy fool and his favorite fix.

He gracefully reaches to untie your wrap blouse and it falls to your sides, uncurtaining your heaving breasts. He hums in satisfaction of your physique.

Jake lightly places his hands on your knees and observes as his fingers featherly dance upon your thighs, only to stop and squeeze into the thick of them until he leaves white imprints. He curls into you, Jake’s perpetually exposed chest rubbing against your newly bare nipples, extracting a hiss from you.

Your core already weeps with need.

The hungry man burrows his face into your neck but stops right before his lips meet your skin, knowing you desperately need his mouth.

He teases you with a tickling whisper, “Fuck- I missed you. They don’t make girls like you in Nashville.”

The ribbing huff of his breath makes you shudder.

You press your hand against his hip, slide it down the curve of his thigh and inward till you map out his hard length through his pants, “I can see, you poor thing.”

Your movement draws a low growl from him in your ear, “Fuck- You see what you do to me, kitten? You see all the problems you cause me?”

You begin to palm him through his clothes and feign out a bratty whine, “Yes, but we always have such a good time, don’t we Jakey?”

Jake begins to eat at your neck while you continue to caress him until he moves down and out of your reach.

He plots out your clavicle, licking down your sternum through the valley of your peaking breasts; delaying his journey to lap one of your nipples into his warm salacious mouth as he gropes the other in his lanky hand. A few mumbled swears fall from you as Jake begins to venture in biting and sucking marks into the supple flesh of your breasts, soothing each spot with candied kisses afterwards.

“Shit- just when I thought these perfect tits couldn’t get any prettier. An absolutely breathtaking sight with my bitemarks,” he pants.

Jake’s mouth resumes its migration south to your goosebump ridden thighs. He sinks his fingers into the flesh of your ass, resting his elbows against the corners of the sink for balance as he lowers the rest of his body to accommodate the angle of your glistening center.

His mouth now takes purchase of where his fingertips had just deserted your thighs, kissing away the residual sting; closer and closer to your entrance till his head vanishes, canopied in between your skirt and legs. You feel the heat of his huffing through the lace of your panties. The sensation alone is enough to make you whine with need. Jake then bites into the material of your damp thong, sampling your arousal as he tugs your underwear to the side using his teeth. Jake plants his lips to yours in a row of delicate kisses, making you quiver with anticipation.

“Wider,” he growls out the demand.

You lean back to let your bare shoulder blades rest against the ice cold mirror behind you in order to grant him better access to your wetness. Jake is entranced as he gapes at how the chill glass spells you to hiss and clench around nothing.

He takes a deep inhale of you and slots the tip of his nose against your entrance. In one agonizingly slow movement he reclines his head so that his nose flits over your aching clit as he sticks out the flat of his tongue to follow the lewd trail.

You open your mouth to sing his praises but all that comes out is his name in a hiccuping squeak.

He then wraps his ample lips around your throbbing clit and nimbly sucks it into the warm plush of his mouth, swirling his velvety tongue around your bud.

The deed elicits a piteous wail to escape you and the confiscation of any remaining control over your restless limbs. Your hips involuntarily swing forward, seeking more of his mouth.

He rewards you with a swift smack against your thigh, “Easy,” he begins to plant light kisses on your entrance, “needy little thing today, aren’t you?”

Having not fully removed his mouth from you, the vibrations of his teasing words sends unexpected ripples of titillation humming through you, instigating your reeling squirms further, “Relax, kitten. I know how to take care of you. I know what you need.”

He finally unlatches his other hand from your ass. You hadn’t even registered the delicious sting of his fingers over the imperious pleasure of his mouth; a pain promising to blossom into pretty hues of purples, blues, and greens.

He delineates the curve of your thigh with his fingertips, finally fluttering over your entrance. Impatiently, he hikes your skirt up to bunch at your waist. He savagely yanks your lace underwear down and over your ankles, not even bothering to wait for you to adjust to help slip the material off. He looks to you with a seemingly innocent goofy grin as he pockets his newly pillaged treasure.

You roll your eyes and press your lips together to stifle your obvious giggle. In a feigned offense, Jake snatches your ankles in his grasp to reestablish his authority and your attention. Slowly, he lifts your legs to settle your thighs around his shoulders, careful not to throw off your balance on the porcelain counter.

You lock your ankles around him as his hands pet up your legs and wrap around your thighs to bore into your flesh. Jake reintroduces his mouth to your soaking entrance, sloppily devouring your nectar.

Though pleasing, you know he is holding out on you. Jake loves to hear you beg; for you to pray for what you know he can’t help but give you.

“Jake, more,” you demand despite knowing it will land void.

He immediately ceases his feed and arrogantly reminds you of your place, “Oh, I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders now, are you kitten?”

Mourning the loss of his mouth, you choke on a sob, “No, Jake!”

He tenderly begins to brush his digits along your skin, “That’s right, but I happen to know that pretty mouth sings a lot lovelier than she barks.”

He moves one of his thumbs to circle over your swollen clit as incentive, making his compulsion undeniable.

You desperately pant out your pleas, “Please- Shit- Please, Jake. I need- Jake- Fuck- fingers?”

“Sorry, baby, you’re not making any sense,” he terrorizes you now, stretching a free digit from your bud to tease your entrance.

You manage to piece together your needs enough to satisfy him, “Jake- please, I need your fingers- need them inside me- I need to soak them- please, baby?”

Your scandalous words draw a sweet moan from him. The vivacious grant of your request tells you he can’t stand to make you wait any longer.

He begins pumping his middle and ring finger inside you, making you mewl his name.

He once again envelopes your clit in his lips and begins to suck and lap you towards ecstasy. You feel the euphoric tension strain your abdomen as Jake curls his fingers around the spot he always seems to effortlessly discover.

“Fuck- Jake don’t stop- please- please don’t stop,” your voice reaches the high pitch only he brings it to.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, you sound too pretty with my fingers inside you to deny,” he coos against your sensitive clit.

Jake’s lustful praises send you into an orgasmic haze as your walls squeeze around his fingers and back arches away from the mirror.

As he feels you getting close, Jake begins to coach you, “Relax for me, beautiful. Can you relax that pretty pussy for me?”

You inventory only enough coherency to wantonly moan, indicating your process of his demand.

“Good girl, that's it. Just breathe and take it,” his praises coerce you into obedience.

Even though every endorphin in your body is imploring you to writhe at Jake’s touch, you do your best to relax and breathe as he ordered. You relent to Jake’s fingers, allowing him to caress into a new spot, a fresh wave of sensitivity finding you.

He knows he’s found the place as soon as you squeal his name in response. He begins to violently fuck deep into you with his hand, pumping in and out of you, his fingertips catching his new target every time, catapulting you into your orgasm. You're consumed by white heat as you soar through your ecstasy.

You’ve cleared through your orgasm yet oddly the tension in your abdomen is not alleviated but is now twice as constricting.

Jake never ceases to send his fingers in and out of you at a furious pace and the pressure that builds is of a different class, requiring your whole body to participate in your release. Where he was once babying his mark, he is now assaulting it; his digits curling into you with every pump. The sloppy sounds of Jake finger fucking you grows louder with every stroke.

His lips swallow your clit, slurping you into his mouth for safekeeping, sending you into overdrive as you approach this new release. Your pussy begins to convulse and contract around Jake but he drives into you faster still.

“That’s it, babygirl, cum for me. I’ve missed having you on my tongue,” his words barely make their way into your consciousness.

Your vision begins to black out as your eyes roll back and your slick sprays his face and coats his hands.

Yet, Jake refuses to cease his assault. Your climax builds within you so tight, it rips its way out of you. Your cunt expels a deluge of liquids and continues to pour into Jake’s hand with every dizzying clench of your cunt. Again. Again. And again. Until you are downpour, trickling past his wrist and onto the tile floor.

“Fucking shit- Jacob- don’t stop- I can’t- I’m still cumming- Ja- Baby- Jacob,” your voice melodically crashes and breaks against waves of rasping screams and swearing whimpers louder still, floating off somewhere in oblivion.

Jake thinks it's the most beautiful you’ve ever sounded. Your body finally gives, and you collapse back against the mirror behind the sink. After a few seconds you peek your eyes open to see the mess you made.

He pulls away from you to stand once again and observes his glistening hand in a gaping awe, unphased by your cum dripping down his chin.

“I love when you do that,” he mutters more to himself than you as he slurps your elixir from his own limb.

He isn’t even touching you but the pornagraphic sight reels a moan from you.

“Does my beautiful girl want a taste of her own orgasm?”

He places his fingers along your lips, waiting for your consent. You stick your tongue out and he slides his digits up along the textured muscle until you stifle a slight gag; the veins that decorate his knuckles pressing into your top lip.

He pulls your mouth closer to his with his fingers, slipping them out just before he slides his tongue between your lips; you further taste your glaze as he licks into your mouth.

He impatiently pulls away from you with a hungry groan and scatters to undo his belt. His pants fall to his ankles, his normally hidden curves now visible; a delectable sight you will never grow tired of. His physique is appetizingly curvier than most men and the very view made your dripping pussy flutter without remedy.

Jake catches your ravenous stare and arrogantly quips, “See something you like, kitten?”

Rather than respond, you greedily grab at him and slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers. You tug him closer along with the material and shimmy it down to liberate his hard painfully pink penis.

“I missed you too,” you run a finger over his leaking tip, causing his head to roll back in a hiss, “and this pretty cock.”

In one swift movement, you quickly gather your remaining arousal on his face in your free hand and reach down to slather his throbbing dick. You lay messy open mouth kisses along his jaw and neck as you now lightly pump him in your hand.

“Fuck- you’re so hot,” Jake rasps out at the loss of composure; his mouth slacks agape as you continue to jerk him off.

You move your hand to flick at his head and his features further melt in bliss.

“Slow down,” he whimpers, ”I want to be dripping down your thighs, not your hand,” his statement demands your submission.

You can tell Jake is unraveling fast as he starts twitching in your fingers. He is close until he obstinately pulls you away from him by the wrist.

You pout out an apology and he relocates your hands around his shoulders, and grabs your waist as he paints your cheek with open mouth kisses. His tongue works a long stripe behind your ear and sucks your lobe into his mouth.

He speaks through teeth clenched around your cartilage, “You always misbehave like such a brat, but underneath it all my girl is just a sweet thing, aren’t you?”

His intimate words alone render you to a din of pitiful mutters and swears.

You feel him begin to press his hard cock into the thick of your thigh, involuntarily pursuing relief, “You just need someone who knows what you are, hmm? Knows what you need?”

You praise and beg as your center is reintroduced to that familiar ache, “Jake, please. You know what I need.”

The sensation of Jake grinding himself against your leg dissolves all restraint. You try to buck your hips towards him in search of what you want most, but he doesn’t let you succeed. Jake arrests your waist to push you further back onto the sink.

He snickers at your cupidity, “What a greedy little slut. Just came a fucking mess and you already want more.”

You stroke his ego with hopes flattery will seduce him, “Yes- I’m a glutton for you, please, Jake?”

You scoot back up to the edge of the sink and grab at him; mad for his touch.

Instead, your ambition is requited with a stinging smack to your cunt as he bellows the command, “Sit still! I’m not going to tell you again.”

You can’t help the fearless groan that echoes throughout the small room.

He bitterly miffs, “Yea? Should have thought about that before you were fucking around with that shit for brains?”

“Jake, I’m sorry,” you gravel, growing more impatient by the second that you can’t feel him.

Your insincere words purchase you no spoils as he taunts you further, “Good- You have no idea. I wanted to break his fucking nose wide open! What was his name again, sweet thing?”

Before you can fashion any remark, he yanks you to teeter on the end of the countertop once again. Jake, shaft in hand, drives his throbbing tip just past your lips, and flicks himself against your sensitive clit.

Your knuckles grip white against the corners of the porcelain struggling to remain in place as you whimper gibberish, “Fuck- Jake- I- MMM- fuck-”

“Look at my good sweet girl, so cock drunk she can’t even remember the pawn she was using to make me jealous a few minutes ago,” he smugly croons.

He featherly runs his fingers through the tresses of your hair. As he smooths down your mane you cave into his touch.

“I fucking hated seeing you with him,” his words drip with scorn, “it killed me. You deserve better because you’re my good girl.”

Lining himself up to press into your labia, he docks his forehead against your clavicle to look down at his toying with you. Slightly arching forward, his pink head only just glides past your entrance.

You are teetering over the line of ditzy, Jake’s tantalizing quips being the only tether before you are too far gone, “What a filthy slut? Playing dirty to get Daddy’s attention?”

Any remaining composure flees from you as the name is growled against your skin and you immediately call it back to him, “Shit- I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Daddy. Please, fuck me?!”

One hand still residing in your hair, he tugs by the root to guide your ear to his open mouth, “Well you’ve got my attention now, my sweet little fucked out thing.”

Without warning, Jake mercilessly thrusts himself inside you to the hilt. You slap your hand over your mouth to silence the obscene wails tearing through you.

Jake promptly rips your hand away, “Don’t you fucking dare. I want everyone to hear my little cock drunk slut sing.”

Without granting you an opportunity to adjust to his girth, he pulls himself nearly all the way out just to plunge himself all the way back in, driving into that magical spot.

Just as that illustrious need grows in your stomach, Jake pulls out completely. You don’t have the opportunity to protest before he gathers you from off the countertop and twists you around towards your reflection. He gingerly presses his touch into the protruding shape of your shoulder blade, lightly ushering you to lean over the slab of the counter. You surrender to Jake’s decree, not willing to risk your orgasm.

Jake finds your fucked out gaze through the mirror and faintly adjures, “I want you to watch as I fuck you.”

You know better than to mistake his lowly tone for submission. You lean your weight on your elbows as you settle against the sink and raise your head to take in every detail as Jake begins fuck into you from behind.

His pace starts off moderate, but every stroke pierces deep. Your eyes are spellbound by the vision of his pelvic bone slamming into your ass with every harsh swing of his hips.

You do your best to keep your eyes visible as his rhythm picks up, but inevitably your head hangs limp, dizzy from your approaching high. You resign from your efforts once he begins to rock into you faster, burying himself further in your cunt.

You are compensated by a half-lidded Jake forcing your head back up by your chin, “Nah-uh. Look at me, baby.”

You manage to anchor your head where Jake repositioned it, but you are helpless to the way your eyes roll back as he swivels his hips rutting into that sweet spot. Jake grants you exoneration as your walls tighten around his twitching cock, indicating you are close.

Your every muscle trembles as you are abraded by your final orgasm. You're too far gone in your trance. You babble a gibbered language of swears and crying moans as you give into the chemical release.

“Just one more for me, babygirl, you can take it,” he hushes you.

You are strung back from your trip by the stutter of Jake’s hips and hiccuping moans. He is close. You see him tire as he curls around you, his panting grunts tickling your skin.

“Come on, baby,” you root for him despite your own overstimulation, “fuck me full. Want it so bad.”

You are captivated by the reflection of his features contorting under bliss as he fights to keep his hips in motion. You roll your hips to follow Jake’s strokes as his high suspends his stamina.

His eyes roll back as he begins to convulse, his dick jerking inside you. He releases, his lewd moan of absolute venery graces your ears as he empties himself inside you, coating your pulsing walls.

Jake goes limp, briefly taking refuge against your backside as he catches his breath and you come down from your highs together. He lazily litters your skin with kisses wherever his lips can reach.

He sighs against your spine, “Fuck- you’re magnificent. Absolutely electric.”

He wills himself to stand vertical, tugging his pants back in place over his hips before he eases you upright. Assisting you with his steady grip on your pelvis, the steamy skin of his lithe chest sticks to your backside. He wraps an arm around your waist to hold you steady as your knees buckle upon landing, pulling you into him once more. He bows his head to warrant his lips to lathe your neck, savoring the salt of your skin.

Far too consumed to break away from his sloppy kisses, he tilts his head as his eyes hunt for the reflection of yours, “But I meant what I said earlier, we’re no good for each other.”

He nibbles his way up and sucks at the muscle of your jaw, “I like you way more than I planned to but there’s no way we can continue like this, babygirl.”

You go numb; the only sensation present being pins and needles pricking your chest. His words spell you dumb, abolishing any sense to speak or move.

He delicately spins you to face him once again and tenderly kisses the tip of your nose.

Jake slightly pulls back to skillfully tie your blouse back up for you, “Whatever this is, it's got to settle here.”

“Jake- you-,” you breathlessly chase for the tail of your thought that doesn’t seem to exist.

He squeezes your hands in his, “I mean it, kitten, don’t call me anymore. I won’t pick up for you.”

The tender manner in which his lips love on you does not mesh with his condemning words.

He draws back to see tears you aren’t aware are now rolling down your flushed cheeks.

He lets go of one of your hands to cup your jaw and kisses the salty sadness from your features, “Don’t cry, baby, you’re perfect.”

He envelopes your lips between his one last time before he brings your hand still in his grasp to place his pucker against your knuckles and whisper, “Please take care of yourself for me, babygirl.”

You are prisoner to paralyzation as those enticing amber eyes abandon you; rendering you to nothing but shattered forsaken ruins strewn across an empty bathroom, grasping and grappling to purchase any sort of rationale beyond the carnage.

You’re forced to silently choke on consternation at the sight of his chestnut waves bouncing against his shoulders as Jake weightlessly vanishes through the swinging door.

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[katuschka]

His Sugar-Dusted Skin – Part 1

Jake Kiszka x reader 5.639 words (Part 1)

So, After some consideration, I decided to split this one in two, because a) I promised to post it this weekend and it's not finished yet, and b) it might me too long. December's been a bit chaotic and as I said before, I've been struggling a bit with this one. So let me know what you think. Any feedback is much appreciated!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): alcohol consumption and heavy intoxication, mentions of the death of a close person (retrospective), allusions to a potentially promiscuous behaviour, some strong language, the twins being assholes (kind of... they're still cute), Jake's happy trail, I think that's it for now...

Oh, life…

How ordinary and boring it can get when you stick to thinking that there aren’t any other options. As far as I remember, conformity never made sense to me. And as far as I remember, I was being raised and forced to embrace it. My mind surrendered for a while, but my vagrant soul just kept resisting. I never wanted to fit in. I always wanted to fly.

When I left home three years ago, I didn’t take much with me. My parents didn’t approve of my choices and the only person who would’ve supported me in my decisions was already gone. My beloved grandma. She was the disruptive force that kept me on my toes, always challenging me in the most loving way, knowing too well that it was exactly what I needed. She gave me my first guitar, too. Even though sclerosis made her homeward-bound, her dreams and fantasies always kept her wandering. I loved that. She was always there to spark my imagination and in return, I wanted to be her legs and eyes one day. When I was little, my friends used to call her fairy godmother. “Keep your sails up sweetheart, the wind is whimsical.” That’s what she used to say. “All you need is that air in your lungs and love in your heart.” 

“You must never leave me, oma,” I said to her once. “I need that love in my heart forever.”

“Someone else will fill it, darling,” she replied. “I’m only here to make sure it is open. But one day, you won’t need me anymore.”

When she died, I lost my only reason to stay there. The world was slowly getting to its feet again and it was my turn to do the same. I had dreams that simply couldn’t be fulfilled at home. My heart was aching for adventure. So I packed my bags, just like they sing in old songs, slung my guitar over my shoulder and hit the road. A vagabond chick. 

As I came to Tennessee, all I owned could fit in my barely drivable car: literally just a few dresses, my phone, my modest savings, my old six string, my treasured voice and THE recipe. Aaaah, those were the days…

Who am I kidding? It was pretty rough at first. VERY rough, to be honest. I cried many nights. But the one thing my parents had taught me was to save money, and that helped me survive the first months, when I waited tables during the day and sang my ass off after dark. 

Many people never make it. Hell, even though I’m an optimist, I have to admit that most don’t. If you’re not strong willed and immune to shit, you’re most certainly destined to fail. I’ve seen way too many extra talented and broken people on my journey, just because they were too nice or too naive. Well, I’m not naive, but I’m definitely not a cold bitch either. I think I just got lucky, because I had my guardian angel with me the whole time. When she was still walking on earth, she absolutely loved the Beatles, With a Little Help from My Friends being her favorite song. My childhood memories are filled with those songs and how she sang along, and I believe that it was her doing that eventually turned this tune into the soundtrack of my life. I met a lot of fantastic people on my arduous journey towards my goals and dreams, and that’s how I got by. 

As a token of my gratitude, I baked cookies for them. My grandma’s famous linzer cookies. THE recipe. Fast forward a few years, I still keep doing that at Christmas. Apart from the fact that my friends simply demand it, it’s also my way of keeping her alive, to make myself feel like she’s still here with me… in a way. 

Back home, the whole neighborhood loved her art of baking. Me being her only granddaughter, she literally forced me to learn how to bake those linzer cookies – her own recipe, to be precise. Every time I rolled my eyes, while making annoyed noises, blowing raspberries and just being a little asshole about it in general, she simply smiled and said that one day I’ll thank her. Why – I asked – and she responded that one day it would bring me love. “Love goes through the stomach, my dear. Look at your grandpa. See how huge it is?” And then he smiled and kissed her hair and it always made me believe her.

Except it didn’t happen. At least not yet. It – however – gave me a semblance of home that I consciously chose not to have, but sometimes missed. 

Just last year, I decided to continue with the tradition my grandma  started back at home. “Love is a reciprocal game, my dear,” she said. “You get what you give, but do not lose yourself in giving.” 

They want my sweets? Fine! But let them show me how much. They have to “earn” it. At the beginning of December, I give my friends custom-made Christmas greetings, and if they want to receive their own little box of cookies, they have to send back a card of their own making. The first time was a success, and I ended up baking sweets for eleven people. And it didn’t stop there, as it earned me nine bottles of wine, a flacon of my favorite perfume and  a ukulele. All I really wanted was a thank you, but hey! I won’t say no to wine! So I decided to do it again, and this time I received seventeen cards, including three “masterpieces” from the members of the infamous Greta Van Fleet! Yeah, that’s right. While I still feel like I’m barely making it sometimes, I move in high-ish circles. El-oh-el. 

I met Daniel first, through a mutual friend, at one of the music clubs we frequented. He was actually one of the eleven buddies that helped me restart this Christmas tradition. Later I learned that he selflessly shared his portion with the rest of the group during a rehearsal he went to right after he dropped by at my place, and that’s how I got invited to one of their semi-private dinners. Dan kindly introduced me as “Joni”, which earned me two “woos” and one ironic smirk. To be fair, I didn’t like it either. It actually made me cringe, because the woman is an unattainable role model, but it was just Daniel being himself, aka the nice guy. Bless his soul. 

I went from an acquaintance with useful skills to a drinking buddy, because I’m good at that too. One of my less admirable strengths, but there are times when it comes in handy. Especially when a Johnny Depp wannabe from Middle-earth wants to outsmart you…

A year flew by and it was time to extend my offer to Sam and Josh, who made sure I wouldn’t forget them. Don’t ask me how. The video they sent me definitely had the potential to go viral. I wholeheartedly appreciate how much they trust me not to do that. 

They wouldn’t stop there, though. I had to laugh when I received their own precious hand drawn contributions. How sweet. They’re all so sweet actually… well, all except Jake. Aloof, taciturn and arrogant, that’s how he rolls. I’m pretty sure he just can’t stand me, because while he often laughs with others, he only ever laughs at me. His opinion on my baking goes hand in hand with what he thinks about my playing, preferring darker and more spicy shit, as he once put it. Well, whatever. He’s a colossal prick. 

It’s quite unfortunate that I’ve also had a colossal crush on him for quite some time now. As I said, I’m a vagabond chick, and he happens to possess all the right shit to lure me. Like a moth to a flame. And I got burned. 

See, oma? Not working. 

Well, I’m not the one to cry over guys, so I’m not going to lose my sleep over that. He can go fuck himself. (Someone else can do it. I swear he needs it.). 

Seventeen packages meant I was going to spend most of the Friday evening as well as the whole Saturday slaving in my kitchen. Thankfully, I really do enjoy doing this, so it’s simply an essential part of Christmas festivities. A good time spent with me, myself and Ella Fitzgerald. It’s still quite a lot of work though. 

Friday was just about making dough. It might seem easy, but you need to understand that in order to make enough cookies for 17 (!) people, I needed more than 5 lbs of flour, 3 lbs of butter, nearly 24 ounces of sugar, 23 egg yolks and zest from 6 lemons! I will say no more to protect the family secret, but you can see it takes a lot of effort just to put this all together. I take this very seriously. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. 

It had to be perfect. 

But alas! I couldn’t have known that one malicious and horny sprite who wanted me to spoil him with my art of baking was also going to sabotage my efforts in the most peculiar way. 

Once finished, I covered the dough with plastic wrap and put it in the fridge to let it rest overnight before I hopped in the shower to wash off the sweaty sugar crust that seemed to stick to every inch of my exposed skin. It was almost midnight when I finally managed to climb in bed, pleasantly exhausted and happy, only to be woken up by a frantic doorbell noise at around two am. A normal person would just freak out in such a situation, but knowing who that might be, I was already pretty much used to it as I lived nearest to their favorite bar. Our favorite bar, to be precise. 

Over time, they came to an agreement that my tiny apartment was a perfect place for nightcaps, the only problem being that the Kiszkas were usually quite loud about it, completely ignoring the fact that I had neighbors. Thankfully, this part of town is a bit specific in a sense that the said neighbors simply didn’t give a shit, with their own lifestyle not being much different. 

This is what I wanted. Friends, late night laughs, my life filled with music and hugs and kisses and peculiar outcomes of unpredictable events that could only lead to more hugs and kisses. 

There was this one time when Josh fell asleep on my couch while the others simply sneaked away giggling and left him there, spread-eagled and snoring his uvula off. Several hours later, I was woken up by the delicious smell of buttermilk waffles, served with maple syrup and a guilty, puppy dog stare. 

Simply put, they were (almost) always welcome here. Almost…

Sober, sleepy and disoriented, I was definitely in no mood for a late night party (or an early morning one… seriously Josh, wtf!), with all the baking lying ahead of me. I didn’t even have to guess if it was really them; I could already hear them the moment my heart calmed down a bit and I stepped out of my bedroom. Determined to chase them away with a rolling pin, I answered the door angrily and was nearly knocked down by the falling Oliver Reed who obviously decided to lean against it the very moment I yanked it open. 

It’s always intrigued me how the brain works in these situations, working so fast that the time seems to slow down to an almost comical pace. I watched in slow motion how his back slid against the wood, his arms flapping in the air in a futile attempt to regain balance. I could tell at the first fleeting glance that he wasn’t fit to keep his balance standing, let alone falling, so no wonder it was a completely lost cause. Some voice at the back of my skull tried to tell me to jump aside, but I was too mesmerized by the sight. Just when his shoulder hit me clumsily in the chest and I stumbled backwards, Josh finally managed to grab Jake’s arms to keep him from knocking me down completely. My rolling pin fell on the wooden floor with a loud bang that made my neighbor’s dog bark. Jake, now aggressively pinned against the corridor wall by Josh, only added to the ear-piercing nocturnal cacophony with his loud howls: “Whoa whooooa!” 

“Shhh, shut the fuck up, Jake!” Josh hissed through his teeth before he turned his concerned stare back at me. “Y/N, sweetheart, terribly sorry hun! Didn’t mean too…” I could tell that he was tipsy as well, but it paled in comparison with the state Jake was in. I had seen him drunk many times before, with his glossy, beady eyes and unfocused stare that always made him look a bit like a teddy bear. This was new, though. He seemed absolutely plastered. 

Out of the imminent danger, but with my heart still wildly pumping adrenaline-enriched blood into my veins, I grabbed the doorframe first to support myself before I tried to make sense of what was just happening in front of me. 

They weren’t alone. Right behind Josh stood a guy whom I had seen a few times before, but I couldn’t recall his name. He looked slightly uncomfortable. “What the fuck, Josh!?!” I hissed. 

Josh immediately tried to win me over with the most sheepish smile he could muster, but his involuntarily cocked eyebrow betrayed him, which only made me more furious. “Dearest Y/N, we need your help, baby!” 

“With what? I asked incredulously. 

“I need you to take care of my asshole brother, pretty pleeeease.” 

“You what?” I goggled at him, completely taken aback by his impudent request. “Why can’t you just take him home?” Much to Jake’s annoyance, we kept discussing him and his imminent future as if he wasn’t even there, which only resulted in another outburst of his loud and incoherent babbling and our collective attempt to shush him before Josh answered.

“Because, I am not planning on going home, honey,” he whisper-shouted, hoping that I would just get it without him having to be too obvious. Yeah, I got it. It didn’t mean I was willing to help him. I looked at the guy again, who suddenly pretended to be very interested in the hallway lights. At that moment, the owner of the barking dog opened his own door to passionately inform us what we all were. I had no other choice than to hastily usher them all in.

“You can’t leave him here just like that? Are you out of your mind? Is this some kind of retribution for what he did the last time? Because it’s not funny. This is my home, and not a fucking sobering center! Just call him an uber,” I continued to protest once we were all safely inside my apartment, and that’s when Jake chimed in for the first time with something that made at least a bit of sense: “Yeah, ah-don’ wanna…,” he hiccupped before he could finish the sentence, making me even more incensed with the whole situation. He quickly tried to amend it, but it was too late. I was seething, my nostrils flaring. “...bother-er. Ah-don’ wanna bother-er! She’s…fierssshe!” he spat in Josh’s face, making him scrunch his face in disgust. 

“Well, you should have thought about not bothering people before you got so shitfaced,” Josh spat back, completely ignoring what I just said. “This is your doing.”

What? I shot a deadly stare at Josh. No, it was absolutely not Jake’s doing that they were now standing in my living room. And regardless of the fact that I had work to do – and he knew that – he also knew how I felt about Jake, and was now putting me in a very uncomfortable position. “Out! All of you!” 

I’m pretty sure I must have looked like Wrath personified, because Jake whoa’ed again and Josh seemed to finally acknowledge his misconduct. He grabbed my hands in his, suddenly looking like a meek puppy. “I’m sorry, babe. Don’t be mad, hun. I know this is too much to ask, but do this for a friend. I beg you…”

“No, I beg you Josh!” I tried to sound as calm and collected as possible through my gritted teeth, knowing that being just mad would get me nowhere. Josh was too stubborn to ever acknowledge someone else’s anger and boundaries meant nothing to him once you became his friend, which basically meant family. However, he was empathetic. “You know I have a lot of baking to do tomorrow. I’m tired. Just please, take him home.”

Josh bit his lip and he looked like he was trying to say something and NOT say it at the same time. It was late and I felt awfully tired, but the whole thing seemed a bit fishy to me. Just when Josh nodded and finally opened his mouth to respond, Jake grabbed his shoulder. “Ah need to pee, Jawshy boy,” he whined and swayed dangerously, pouting his lips at his twin brother. He was already in his teddy bear phase which meant that he indeed wasn’t fit to be sent home alone in an uber. He’d be knocked out in no time, and even if Josh went with him, he’d have a hard time just getting him out of the car. 

Josh glanced sideways at the guy, who had been pretending to be invisible the whole time, and then looked at me pleadingly again. I capitulated. “OK, take that big baby to the bathroom and I’ll fetch some blankets,” I sighed. 

Together, they helped Jake get comfy on the couch and he fell asleep before his head even touched the pillow. And me? I felt relieved when I finally closed the door behind them and everything became quiet again, disturbed only by Jake’s light snoring.

They were taking their time, so once I fixed the makeshift bed, it was just me and the guy standing in the middle of the room, waiting, and it was getting increasingly awkward with each passing second. “So, you’re Y/N,” he finally spoke.

“Yeah,” I answered curtly, confirming the obvious. “We’ve met.”

“But we weren’t properly introduced yet. I’m Martin.” I shook Martin’s hand politely without really wanting to, because I knew that if they were heading to his place instead of Josh’s, it probably meant that the chances I’d see Martin again were quite low. Yet another reason for me being annoyed. 

I poured him a large glass of water, squeezed some fresh lemon juice into it and placed it carefully on a small table right next to his head before I switched off the light, leaving just a small table lamp on, and went back to my bed, hoping to spend the rest of the night in peace and get some much needed rest. 

However, the fact that there was Jacob Kiszka, Sir, lying unconscious on my couch right outside my bedroom door, made it a bit difficult to fall back to sleep. I had never been in a situation like this and it made me feel unpleasantly agitated. I wasn’t afraid of him. I just didn’t trust my own feelings. 

I should have been angry. 

But I was not. Not exactly. Not anymore. My heart wasn’t beating wildly out of annoyance. Instead, I felt like a schoolgirl, trapped in an elevator with that annoying boy from music class who was also her crush. There were many conflicting feelings inside both my head and chest; and knowing that he probably wouldn’t remember how he ended up on my couch come morning only made it all worse. 

I finally dozed off, but morning came sooner than I wished it would, and with it a headache. It felt like just a brief moment, filled with restless dreams about me and Jake dancing on the rooftop to Golden Slumbers playing out of nowhere, with sugar snowing down at us and our hands sticky with jam. Then he smeared some on my cheek and peppered it with kisses…

When I opened my eyes, the feeling still lingered, like powdered sugar on the top of my tongue. Soft and weightless like snowflakes, yet it lay heavily on my chest. Together with the lack of rest, it made me feel almost hungover-ish. I lied unmoving for a while, listening to the silence that surrounded me and wondering whether he was still there. Maybe he already woke up earlier and quickly sneaked out after realizing where he was. 

It was unlikely, but I could hardly ever control these self-deprecating thoughts. Especially regarding men. I cursed Josh once again and decided to take a quick cold shower to wake up my senses.

It helped only just a bit. Refreshed, I opened my bedroom door carefully and peaked inside the living room. He was still there, and fast asleep. Slowly, I creeped up on him on my tiptoes, and then spent several long seconds just watching him sleep, before I started to feel like a complete lunatic. But… he looked so peaceful and almost angelic in the milky morning light, lying on his side with his hands folded under his chin, his lips parted and brows relaxed. The glass was empty, and I couldn’t help but smile involuntarily. Once there was a way to get back homeward…

Then I remembered that this was no domestic idyl. I just had a drunk rock guitarist on my couch, and – let’s be brutally honest here – once I got past that dreamy visual illusion, a strong olfactory reminder of this much more prosaic reality hit my nostrils. 

I also had several large chunks of dough in the fridge and a debilitating headache that almost made me question all my life choices.

No, it didn’t.

But all those things had to be taken care of and I had no idea how. I tried to be as quiet as a mouse at first, but after realizing that it could take at least a couple more hours before he’d wake up, maybe even half a day – the time that I couldn’t afford to waste – I took Josh’s previous advice and decided to just ignore him. 

I really needed coffee… to get the stupid dream, and the song, and all my delusions out of my head. Did I forget that he was also a big-headed asshole? Yeah, that’s the spirit. 

It turned out that my worries were groundless anyway. I could make as much noise as possible in my adjacent kitchenette and he wouldn’t even stir. The motherfucker really seemed to be losing his hearing from standing in front of those huge amplifiers and the malicious creature inside my chest chuckled at the thought. 

I took the dough out of the fridge and let it soften at room temperature while I made myself some coffee and started to get everything ready. Clanking of baking sheets, coffee grinder, squeaking cabinet doors…nothing seemed to disturb my sleeping beauty. I kept casting wary glances at him every now and then at first, but soon I got accustomed to the unusual situation and just immersed myself in my work. 

I had my very elaborate system. I could fit twenty cut pieces – meaning ten cookies – on one sheet, there was roughly enough dough for approximately thirty sheets, it takes ten minutes to bake AND I had only four sheets. You can see I had to be very systematic. Preparation is the key and every minor disturbance could be disastrous. Thankfully, I’m a master multitasker. Still, I prayed to all the known and yet to be made-up deities that nothing would happen. No more surprises, please and thank you. 

A few hours passed and the delicious aroma of lemon and vanilla started to fill the room. I was also sweating like a pig, rolling and cutting the dough in haste, always making sure I had enough sheets ready so that there would be no idle time. Focused on the task ahead, I didn’t hear him stir, and my heart jumped in my throat when I finally looked up and saw those beady eyes watching me intently. 

I tried to keep my cool, looking down again quickly. “Well, good morning,” I mumbled. It was almost midday. 

“Morning, Y/N…,” he choked out huskily and finally tried to stand up, which only resulted in him groaning in pain and slumping back immediately. Oh yeah, consequences…

“Do you remember how you got here?” I asked tentatively. 

“I wish I could say I do, but to be honest, I’ve no idea,” he breathed out with his eyes closed. “I was just hanging out with Josh and the next thing I know I’m lying on your couch at blue hour, feeling half dead.” He finally opened at least one eye, just enough to be able to see me.

I nodded and continued cutting the dough. I wasn’t going to make it any easier for him. The timer just chimed and I had to switch the sheets anyway. 

“So?” 

Did I just hear annoyance and impatience in his voice? Oh yeah, a hungover asshole is still an asshole. It shouldn’t have surprised me. “What?” I spat back over my shoulder.

“Care to explain what the fuck I’m doing here?” 

I don’t understand how he always managed to just smash all my buttons with one single blow, and once again he made me see red. I literally threw the next sheet in the oven and slammed the door shut with a loud bang before I turned around and lashed out at him. 

“Oh I wish I knew the answer. Be so kind and ask your precious brother who literally just pushed you through my door in the middle of the night, half-conscious and reeking of whisky, because he wanted to get laid. You’re welcome! Fucker…”

He blinked a few times, obviously taken aback. 

“I’m sorry Y/N.” The tone of his voice changed and for a split second I almost regretted my curtness. Almost. “Just let me call an uber and I’ll be out of here in no time,” he mumbled, checking his pocket, while I watched him struggle with secret satisfaction. That headache must have been hellish. Good. At least I wasn’t the only one. 

He suddenly frowned and started rummaging in all his pockets frantically, including the jacket haphazardly thrown over the armrest. “Where the hell is my phone… and my valet… and my fucking keys. Y/N…did you take my stuff?” 

“What? No! The last thing I’d wanna do would be to prevent you from leaving.”

We were watching each other warily, both equally confused. Then it dawned on him. “I’m gonna kill that scrawny little bastard!” Straightening up, he closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath in a futile attempt to fight off his growing nausea as well as the rage that made his nostrils flare. 

My anger dissipated in an instant… or, to be more precise, it was instantly redirected towards his twin. “I don’t understand. Why would he do that? He knows how busy I am today,” I whined. 

Jake didn’t respond. Instead, he asked for my phone. I quickly dialed Josh’s number and handed it to Jake, because the timer chimed again. 

It went straight to voicemail. 

As I was stacking freshly baked pieces on a tray placed on the small kitchen island which also served as my dining table, Jake leaned against it right opposite to me, looking absolutely miserable. “What now?” 

Am I their mother or what? I couldn’t drive him, but even if I did, he still didn’t have his keys. I couldn’t even call him an uber to Josh’s, because I knew that scrawny little bastard wasn’t there. It became obvious that Jake was stuck with me for at least another couple hours. He kept watching, obviously still waiting for me to say something, but I didn’t answer. Instead, I just sighed and grabbed the rolling pin again, aggravated with both of them and feeling like their hostage, stuck in the middle of their infantile games. The time was ticking, with my perfectly planned schedule already disrupted.

“Let me at least help you,” he looked at me hopefully with those puppy eyes they both shared. Fuckers. Seriously. Quirks of the mischievous nature that at one point decided that one of them wasn’t enough. 

“I think you should take a shower first.”

It was a deliberate jab, and I expected him to retort back just like he always did. I did NOT expect him to widen his eyes in genuine horror. “Is it that bad?” 

I didn’t dare answer that question but my face betrayed me when I looked at him sideways and bit my lip. He grabbed the collar of his shirt and took one tentative whiff. “Oh my god, it is. I think I need more than a shower, actually. I smell as if I slept in a puddle of beer.” 

I immediately regretted that I let him sleep on my couch, but he looked completely bashful and embarrassed and my previous unwillingness to continue helping him was already in shambles.

“Ok,” I sighed and put down the cookie cutter. “Come with me. I have some spare sweatpants. Thankfully, my ass is just as big as yours, but it might be a bit too tight around the waist…”

“Excuse me?” he protested, but otherwise obediently followed me into my bedroom. 

“You’re right. My mistake. Yours is bigger,” I chuckled at my own joke while rummaging in my drawer, before throwing him a pair of my favorite grey sweatpants, an old, oversize flannel shirt and a clean towel. “Everything else you might need is in the bathroom. The washing machine’s down in the basement.” 

“Thank you. Uummm…do you, perhaps, have a spare toothbrush? For friends... and such?” He smiled cheekily, testing my patience once again. But to be fair, he couldn’t have known that there was a shortage of “and such” people ever since I met him, because I just wasn’t interested in anyone else for a while now. 

“Yeah, there’s a couple of them in the purple cabi… oh fuck!” I quickly excused myself, alarmed by the smell of something burning, because I forgot to set the timer…

Too busy trying to stave off the impending disaster in my kitchen, I barely noticed him sneaking around me on his way down to the basement. So, when he knocked on the door a moment later and I answered it, the sight in front of me threw me completely off-guard. Being no stranger to Jake’s exposed chest, there was a strange sense of novelty in seeing him in my own unbuttoned shirt. Paul started singing inside my head again, but only until my eyes involuntarily slid further down, putting the song to an abrupt stop, just like a torn magnetic tape.

I was right about the waist being too tight, which meant he had it pulled down well below his navel, and seeing his happy trail made me scream internally. 

And to top it all off, he still had the towel wrapped around his head. 

I was not prepared for the feral reaction he suddenly elicited deep inside my body, and I’m sure he noticed, judging by the cocky half-smile that followed. I quickly turned away before I would compromise myself further. 

“I made you some coffee,” I nodded towards the steaming cup waiting for him on the counter, while still not daring to look directly at him again. “... and there are some popsicles in the freezer.”

“Thank yo… popsicles?!?” I might as well have suggested cotton candy, judging by the look he gave me, making me feel like an idiot,  so I quickly explained: “Yeah, they’re perfect when you wanna get rid of a hangover. Orange’s my favorite.” I still felt like an idiot. 

“I’m feeling better now.” His tone was kind and friendly, for which I was grateful, and I could hear him smiling, with my eyes still fixed on the small yellow circles in front of me. “I think I’m getting a bit hungry, though.”

“I’m not cooking anything now, Jake!” I placed the last little yellow circle on the sheet with care, before I started kneading another chunk of dough frantically.

“No, I didn’t mea…”

“There’s instant ramen on the top shelf.”

“Jesus Christ.” 

“Yeah, whatever.”

“What are YOU going to eat, Y/N?”

“I don’t have time for such luxuries right now…”

“Y/N!” He was leaning against the counter desk right in front of me again. I hadn’t even noticed him sneaking so close again, so his sudden exclamation made me jump. “You have to eat something. Look, your hands are shaking.” 

Yeah, no shit. But I’m not exactly hungry. There was a huge lump in my stomach, making it quite full. I was getting lost in the sea of my conflicting feelings again when all of the sudden, he put an abrupt stop to it like a fierce wave that sent me crashing on the shore, as he lifted my chin up gently with his index and middle finger. “Look at me, Y/N. I am going to fix us a quick lunch, ok?” 

“Ok…,” I peeped meekly. 

Jake just nodded, bound his damp, uncombed hair in a makeshift low bun with the band he always wore on one his fingers just in case, and started rummaging in my fridge. “Allrighty then! What do we have here…,” he crooned cheerfully.

And just like that, Paul was back… lalalalala.

To be continued...

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep   @takenbythemadness   @edgingthedarkness @myownparadise96 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jazzyfigz @sanguinebats @josh-iamyour-mama @lyndz2names @wetkleenex-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf @cheersdannyx2 @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickittty @clownstarr @gretasfallingsky @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @psychedelectable @allof--mylove @sacredsparrow @hearts-hunger

[leviathanlazarus]

Bring a Friend

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner x (F) Reader

Word Count: ~6800

Warnings: it's a threeway with HEAVY slash. Don't like it, don't read it. (voyeurism; oral sex w/ M & F receiving; dirty talking; bottom!Sam; Danny is a bit of a dom; fingering all around; protected anal & vaginal sex) 18+ only!

@mackalah sent a call to the universe asking for a Sanny x Reader fic inspired by the song Lost in the Fire by The Weeknd. I've been writing Sanny fics for a long time and I never get tired of doing it. I think I was one of the first, if not the first, writers in the fandom to write a Sanny threeway, actually...and I never thought I'd write more of those but I felt very inspired by this song and the idea...even if it doesn't fit your specific image, I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it ;)

---

Sure, you had reconciled with the fact that Sam would never love you as much as he loved Danny. At first, their overwhelming affection and adoration for one another was kind of cute to you. Seeing Sam so enamored with a boy was adorable–quite special, really. You loved that he could love a best friend so fiercely, so passionately. But then it had become clearer and clearer throughout your relationship that you would never be even close to a priority no matter how long you were with Sam or how close you two became–Danny would always be closer, and Danny would always be number one. 

So things ended. Amicably enough, thankfully, and you still saw Sam–and by default, Danny–all the time. You were friends. But you weren’t sure how to respond when Sam started sending you pictures that showcased more of their friendship than you’d ever imagined. Well, not seriously imagined, anyway.

The first one was almost passable as innocent–a picture of Sam and Danny’s arms slung across one another’s shoulders, Danny leaning in and pressing his lips to Sam’s cheek. 

Cute, you texted back. 

Jealous? Sam replied.

You balked at your phone. Sam was ridiculous. Of you or of him?

Either

Nope

Hmm… 

After that text, he sent you a picture of them actually kissing–Danny was planting a big one right on Sam’s mouth and Sam was smiling into it, arm outstretched to capture the moment on his phone.

What about now?

You stared at the picture, flabbergasted. It was kind of hot, you had to admit, but you also felt your chest tighten with bitterness–you’d really tried with Sam. You’d been patient and forgiving, welcoming of how close Danny was to him, but it just never felt like you were enough. Not the perfect fit. And that wore you down more and more until it just all had to end. But here Sam was showing off his perfect match, apparently really trying to make you jealous when you thought all those feelings of jealousy had been buried and forgotten.

You left Sam on read, ignoring his attempt to antagonize you, but later, when you’d nearly forgotten about the pictures, Danny texted you:

Did Sam send pics of us together to you?

You sighed. You weren’t really in the mood to get more, but maybe Danny would spare you. 

Yes. Did you guys take those just to send to me and make me “jealous?”

Actually no. I didn’t even know he sent them until now. I’m really sorry if it upset you 

Another sigh. Danny was a sweetheart. Surely he really didn’t want to rile you up or hurt your feelings. 

It's okay. You guys are good together

Thanks. You and Sam were good together too

You left that alone. As much as you could appreciate the sentiment, you weren’t in the mood to travel further down memory lane. But later, when you were lying in bed, you found yourself opening up your texts to look at those pictures again, especially lingering on the snapshot of Sam and Danny kissing. Finally, with a huff you locked your phone and tossed it aside before you tossed yourself into a fitful sleep.

But the next day, the pictures commenced. The first one was sent in the middle of the night and was a perplexing awakening–a picture clearly taken from Sam’s POV. You’d recognize that torso anywhere and there it was in clear digital–Sam flat on his back, a string of bright pink bite marks down his stomach and Danny’s wild dark curls pressed against his belly. You couldn’t see his face, but you also knew that hair anywhere. You sat up in bed rubbing your eyes and once your brain made full sense of the image, you wanted to be mad. You were mad–you could feel the heat rising in your body, the tension growing in your mind, but you also felt a tingle of betrayal shudder through you all the same. 

No text accompanied the photo. It was bait and you weren’t going for it. If Sam wanted you to be jealous, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction; if he just wanted you to have the pictures for whatever demented reason, you’d accept. But when the pictures kept coming and got progressively more raunchy, you thought the picture of Sam kissing Danny’s neck, his hand shoved down Danny’s pants, had to be the last one. There was no way it would escalate. But it did–later that night Sam sent you a picture of Danny straight up sucking his dick.

That made you gasp and, without even thinking about it, press the call button.

“Sam!” you shouted when he answered. “What the fuck are you doing? Does Danny know you’re sending me all these?”

Sam laughed. Such a bastard. “He didn’t at first. But now he does. He’s been encouraging me.”

You held your face in your free hand, sighing. “Sam. What the hell is wrong with you? I’ve really worked hard to move past our breakup and I–”

“Y/N, I know. That’s not what this is.” Sam paused for a second and you sensed he wasn’t alone on the other end. “This is an invitation.”

You couldn’t lie to yourself–you’d thought about it. How could you not after receiving all those pictures? But still the words from Sam didn’t make sense in your mind. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean exactly what I said. We’re inviting you to join us.” When you didn’t respond, Sam continued: “Just for a night, you know? Test it out?”

The words were still bouncing around. Your heart sped up with curiosity. “Let me talk to Danny,” you ordered. “I’m sure he’s with you right now. Right?” Danny would make it make sense. 

Another laugh from Sam. “Yeah, he’s here. Hang on.” There was a vague shuffle and then Danny’s voice was in your ear.

“Danny, please explain this to me,” you demanded, growing even more flustered and impatient. “What’s Sam talking about?”

“Well, um, I think he kind of said it all.”

You let out an exasperated huff. “He did not say it all, Danny. Clearly I need you to spell it out for me.”

“We both like you and we want to have a threesome,” Danny explained and you could hear Sam laugh in the background. “That’s it. If you don’t want to, it’s totally cool. And I’ll tell him to stop sending the pictures.”

Maybe it was strange, but when you’d looked at all the photos, you’d never pictured yourself being part of the action. Sam and Danny came as a pair–clearly. Your relationship had ended because of that–and were truly, as far as you were concerned, meant for one another. To get between that seemed strange, not to mention held incredible risk to damage the friendship you were still clinging to with both of them. 

You thought about the pictures some more though and felt you landed on some middle ground, unorthodox as it was. But all of this was entirely unorthodox. “What if I watched?” you proposed.

“What? You want to?” Danny asked, the surprise in his voice ridiculous to you given what he and Sam had already proposed themselves. 

“Sure. Clearly, Sam’s into that.”

There was a slight pause, then Danny said, “Okay. Yeah, sure. We’re into that too.”

It was probably one of the worst decisions of your life. But when you hung up, you couldn’t help but feel a little excited about it.

-

You were surprised at how Sam and Danny didn’t seem to care at all that you were watching, sitting in the oversized, plush lounge chair that had been hauled from the living room to the bedroom for the big show. You were also surprised at how, as the action progressed and you were seemingly forgotten, sinking back into the walls like you were invisible, you cared less and less as well. Sam and Danny were completely enthralling to watch–Sam was lying half on top of Danny, kissing him like his best friend was made of pure magic, and Danny was cradling the back of Sam’s head like he was a precious piece of art. Both things were true in your mind–Danny was like a magical, mystical storm enveloping Sam, who was indeed a rare and beautiful work of art that needed to be treasured.

When Sam smiled into the next kiss, a lightning bolt of jealousy pierced your chest. They looked at one another like they were completely in love, probably because they were. Sam had never looked at you like that. But it made sense. You were just the last in a string of failed girlfriends before Sam finally realized who his true partner was. You could imagine that Danny had been silently waiting and beckoning Sam to come to him for good. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t deny that what you were privileged to witness was also painfully hot, even hotter when they both took their shirts off; Sam dipped his head down to begin kissing Danny’s neck and Danny’s hands roamed Sam’s shoulders and back, then up to toy with his hair. 

For the first time since they’d begun, Sam addressed you. “Isn’t he so hot?” he asked, glancing at you while he ran his fingers over Danny’s ribs. 

“Very hot,” you agreed; Danny blushed in response.

“Did you ever think about fucking him?” Sam continued. The question didn’t catch you off-guard, having expected to be a little scrutinized with all the build-up to this event. If nothing else, the conversation probably just made Sam even more turned on.

“Who hasn’t?” you replied. You had, not that you’d ever told Sam that. Not that Danny ever showed any interest. And not that Sam would have cared, you realized; on the contrary, you now knew he would have jumped at this opportunity much earlier. 

“I know, right?” Sam resumed pressing kisses to Danny’ neck, holding the side of his face; Danny nuzzled against his palm and that image made your heart swell. They adored each other so vividly and so overtly. 

“I’m surprised you’re okay with being watched, Danny,” you noted, feeling a little more apt to talking now that Sam had extended that olive branch. 

“I said I’d try it. For Sam,” Danny told you. Sam smirked against his skin and wiggled down to mouth against his chest. “I don’t mind, really. It’s just you.” 

“You like watching?” Sam inquired, peeking at you with his face still pressed against Danny’s chest, his cheek resting against his sternum.

“Yeah, it’s hot,” you said. You could feel your own body literally growing hotter by the second just watching, even more so when Sam finally brought one hand down to Danny’s crotch. Your breath hitched as Danny’s did too, and he arched up into Sam’s touch. 

“Just wait ‘til you see his dick,” Sam said, stroking Danny over his sweatpants. You could see the faint outline, impressively sized, not to your surprise. Sam brought himself to his knees and moved lower, bringing his fingers to the waistband of Danny’s pants. “It’s so big I can hardly take it.”

Your cheeks suddenly burned. “Jesus, Sam.”

Sam laughed. “What? It’s true!” 

“It is true,” Danny affirmed, putting both his hands on Sam’s head. “But you’re gonna take it tonight, right? Show Y/N how good you can be for me?”

You hadn’t, however, expected Danny to chime into the dirty talking. It seemed so out of character but it worked, and it had you rubbing your thighs together, starting to feel tortured. But you were going to try to keep up. “You let him fuck you, Sam?”

“Sure do. He’s fucking good at it too,” Sam said with a rough, low laugh. He pulled down Danny’s pants and that impressive dick was free, rock hard and looking heavy against Danny’s abdomen. You watched Danny close his eyes as Sam licked straight up his length, cradling his balls in one hand while the other was clenching tight around his hip. 

“Is Sam good at sucking dick?” you asked. Danny seemed to be enjoying it already, even with Sam just licking and jerking him off slowly.

Danny nodded, humming, and laced his fingers through Sam’s hair. “He’s so good at it. He knows just what I like. Why don’t you show her, Sammy?”

And Sam did, gripping the base of Danny’s cock to prop him up before he went down. Danny was big–the fact that Sam could take half in one go was impressive and you squeezed your thighs together harder, struggling more and more to figure out what to do with your own hands. Meanwhile, Sam knew what to do with his hands. He started to stroke Danny while he sucked and his other hand trailed up Danny’s body, palming at his chest before he slipped his fingers into Danny’s mouth. 

There was no music to curtail the sounds they were both making–Sam’s sloppy sucking and occasional gags, Danny’s muffled gasps and moans that turned to whimpers with Sam’s fingers in his mouth and his cock being worked over longer and harder. Maybe all of this should have been shocking. You never thought, not before all those pictures anyway, that Sam would go down on any man and you certainly never could have imagined you’d watch it happen, but the whole thing was far more arousing than shocking. It was like your brain couldn’t even acknowledge the surprise that should have been blatant, rather it was fixated on the pure pleasure Sam was giving to Danny and how it translated to you somehow, an invisible line connecting all three of you.

Forever, for sure. You’d have to take all of this to the grave.

Sam suddenly grunted and popped off, grinning at Danny with spit coating his chin. “Ouch, Daniel.” He turned to you. “He’s such a biter.”

You’d been too busy watching Sam going down on him to have noticed Danny chomping on his fingers. “I remember,” you said, voice just a tad wobbly which you hoped would go unnoticed. “From that picture. All those marks on your stomach.” You could still see faint pink remnants on Sam’s torso now.

“Mmm, yeah.” Sam jerked Danny off, a wet slick sound thanks to all the saliva he’d left behind, and kept his eyes on you while he asked, “Wanna watch him do it?”

You felt like you were about to burst despite no one touching you or touching yourself, but the idea of Danny doing that was too enticing to turn down. You also felt it was possible that such a long delay before your own ecstasy could make it all even more incredible. So you said yes and quickly Sam flopped onto his back, encouraging Danny to come to him with outstretched arms, but he had to wait a moment–Danny fumbled on the bed for a few seconds trying to get his pants all the way off and his struggle elicited a much-needed laugh from you and Sam.

“Stop laughing,” Danny protested with a final kick, sending the sweatpants to the floor. “Getting naked isn’t always like, a graceful thing.”

“You’re not as bad as Sam,” you assured him, and Sam shot you an insulted look. “He just tears everything off like an animal. No grace at all.”

“I like doing it for him,” Danny said. He kissed Sam on the mouth softly, deeply, and Sam’s arms circled his shoulders, bringing him even closer. You watched closely, glued to the chair, as Danny brushed Sam’s hair back and brought his mouth to his neck; you’d always loved kissing Sam’s neck, too. Would he make the same sorts of sounds when Danny did it? 

The soft sigh that Sam let out when Danny kissed along his throat was similar, yet still different. There was more desperation in that sound, especially when Danny carried on gently for another few moments before you saw him sink his teeth right in. Sam shuddered and clawed at Danny’s shoulders, and suddenly you were wondering what Danny’s mouth would feel like on you. 

“Yeah, Sam loves when I mark him up,” Danny purred, trailing his increasingly harsh and teeth-filled kisses down Sam’s torso. He stopped at Sam’s belly, his teeth pressing into the soft skin as he pulled down his shorts. Seeing Sam’s dick was nothing new for you, but when Danny abruptly grabbed Sam by the hips to toss him over, then lifted him onto his knees, that was an entirely new sight. 

Danny gripped Sam’s ass while he dove right in and took a bite into one cheek like he really was trying to eat him; Sam yelped and you gasped. It looked like it hurt–when Danny pulled back, there was already an angry red mark, but then Sam moaned and laughed a little.

“God, Sam. I didn’t know you were like this,” you remarked, perplexed and fascinated and so turned on that you had to sit right on top of your hands. “I’ve never seen you so–I don’t know. Submissive.”

“He’s a good boy for me,” Danny said, the words low and deep, and pet his hands up Sam’s sides. You could see that–Sam was perfectly pliant beneath Danny’s touch, like he was just waiting for whatever happened next, and so responsive to everything. Danny looked at you and his next question, though you’d been secretly waiting for it, nearly made you collapse out of the chair: “Wanna help him get ready?”

You balked for a moment, wide-eyed and so stiff from all the pent up excitement and curiosity. “Ready for–?”

Sam snapped his head to the side, peering at you sharply through his hair that had fallen into his face. “Ready to fuck me, obviously,” he snarked, but when Danny grabbed his hips hard and gave another bite to his ass, he quivered and his voice softened as he added, “Get over here, Y/N. We need you.”

That short sentence circled around in your mind, urging you to move but you felt like you couldn’t–the thought of getting up fully clothed to just wander over to what was happening on the bed seemed awkward and silly. Clearly your trepidation didn’t go unnoticed, because Danny was walking over to you, naked as the day he was born, and lifted you up. 

“Don’t be scared,” he said in your ear, pushing you onward while he stayed behind you, his erection unceremoniously pressing against your lower back. 

“I’m not scared,” you said, but you gasped again when Danny tugged at your pants and Sam was suddenly right in front of you yanking on the hem of your shirt. Helpless, you let them both strip you down to your bra and panties; Sam leaned back on his hands with a grin while you felt Danny move in even closer, his hands stroking your hips. 

“Is that okay?” Danny asked, his lips on your ear. 

“Yeah, sure,” was all you could say. You shivered when Sam reached one of his hands out to lightly press his fingers to the crotch of your panties. 

“It was really hot for you to watch,” Sam said, drawing a line down your thigh with one fingertip. “Danny was nervous about it. Performance anxiety, you know. But–” He leaned to the side to look behind you. “It looks like he’s doing just fine.”

You were feeling more relaxed–Sam was back to himself, at least momentarily, and Danny was keeping his touches gentle and tentative. “You guys look like you’re made for each other. It makes sense why we didn’t work out.”

Sam frowned a little. “I feel bad about that, Y/N. I didn’t even know how into Danny I was until, well, pretty recently.”

Danny gave a little snort. “Please. I think everyone but you could see it pretty clearly.”

Sam rolled his eyes before he sighed and looked back at you. “You should try kissing him,” he suggested, leaning back once more. “It’s totally serendipitous.”

You could imagine. You turned in Danny’s arms; he smiled at you so sweetly that you were wrapped up in his softness, not even realizing he was single handedly bringing you down to the bed to lie next to Sam. Then he was kissing you as tenderly as he’d smiled at you and you felt you understood what Sam must have been feeling while you’d been watching earlier–kissing Danny was like magic. 

You were feeling quite fulfilled just from making out and touching–Danny was so warm and so firm, his muscles taut beneath your fingers, his hair so soft–but then he was abruptly being pulled away from you. “Alright, back to business,” Sam commanded, yanking Danny away by his hair, to which Danny was grimacing and reaching up untangle Sam’s fingers. 

“Ha!” Danny exclaimed when Sam freed him. “You’re jealous.”

You’d never seen Sam jealous before, actually, but now that Danny was pointing it out, you could see it clearly–the darkness in his eyes beneath furrowed brows, the exaggerated slant of his cheekbones as he pouted, the flush on his cheeks. 

“You’re supposed to make it even during threesomes,” Sam said, looking from Danny to you then back again. Jealous or not, he was still hard, you noticed. “You have to divvy up the attention, Daniel and Y/N.”

“Fine,” Danny said shortly. “Then get on your knees again.” Instead of waiting even one second for Sam to do it himself, he grabbed his ankles and rolled him over again.

“Such a dom,” Sam said with a chuckle.

“God,” was all you could say, breathless at being involved now, not just witnessing. You needed to see more though and you were starting to understand your place in all this–you moved up to sit in front of Sam, lightly touching his face. “Hey, Sam–can I kiss you?”

He smirked at you, though you felt he had no right to when he was in such a vulnerable position, his ass quite literally in Danny’s face. “I thought you’d never ask,” Sam said, inching forward on his elbows, an image so ridiculous that you almost laughed. Instead, you brought your smile to his lips and kissed him for the first time in months–it should have felt ordinary but it didn’t. It felt brand new, strange and a little scary, made even scarier by the sudden popping sound that broke out from below.

You pulled away to identify the source, which was Danny squeezing lube onto his fingers. “Where’d you get that?” you asked, keeping your hands on Sam’s shoulders.

Danny chuckled, closing the cap of the bottle. “It was already on the bed.” With his dry hand he lifted a strip of condoms from the mattress and waved them around. “We came prepared.”

You grimaced; Sam and Danny both laughed. “Well, um–that’s good,” you said, but jeez. When had your ex-boyfriend and his best friend become such sex-crazed maniacs? It wasn’t the condoms or the lube–it was the fact that Sam was wiggling his hips back to Danny and Danny was squeezing one of his ass cheeks, anticipation evident on his face. 

“Are you good?” Sam asked, propping himself up on his knees to get directly in front of you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Yeah, uh, I’m very good,” you stammered, running a hand through your hair and nearly knocking Sam in the face in the process. “It’s just–a lot to process.”

Danny moved right behind Sam, holding him so you were all pressed together like an obscene panini. “Yeah, it is for us, too,” he said, resting his chin on Sam’s shoulders. “You’re the only one we’d wanna do this with.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sam said. “I’m keeping my options open.”

“You’re fucking rude, Sam,” you said, but all the distractions kept any real heat away from your voice. 

Sam laughed, that loud cackle that nearly made the walls vibrate. “I’m kidding, Y/N!” He grabbed your face and pulled you forward to plant a fast, harsh kiss to your mouth before he snapped back and said, looking over his shoulder at Danny, “Now let’s get this show on the road, big guy. Show her what you’re made of.” 

That certainly did set things in motion, with Danny moving swiftly to get Sam back down in front of you; Sam planted his face in your lap and grabbed your hips, hastily pulling your underwear down. You weren’t sure where to fix your eyes–at Danny kissing Sam’s spine and his arm moving vaguely below or Sam tossing your panties to the floor, then latching his teeth to your inner thigh.

You let out a flustered breath and unhooked your bra. “Since everyone else is doing it–”

Sam’s voice was faintly muffled with his face between your legs: “That’s the spirit.” Though it shouldn’t have, the swipe of his tongue up your center came as a surprise, but not as much of a surprise as the loud keen that came from him as Danny perked up behind him, looking at both of you. 

“Oh my god,” you uttered, trembling as you met Danny’s gaze. “Are you–”

“I’m getting him ready,” Danny answered as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. When you straightened up a bit, you got a better peek at what Danny’s hands were doing–one was gripping Sam’s hip and the other was thrusting idly. “I gotta open him up.” He draped himself over Sam’s back, his own upper body long enough for his own dark curls to mix with Sam’s sleek chestnut hair. “How do you want it, Sammy? Nice and easy or hard and fast?”

Sam gave an upwards nod at you. “Whatever she wants to see.”

Being given a clear say in this matter triggered a need for vengeance that you hadn’t even known existed. “Hard and fast,” you told Danny. He looked a little surprised, eyes widening slightly and lips parting; you tugged Sam’s hair a bit to make him look up at you again. “I bet that’s how you really like it, isn’t it?”

Of course Sam wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of feeling like revenge was ever possible. He laughed softly and said, “I like it however Danny likes it.”

Danny pulled back. “Which just happens to be hard and fast,” he said, and you caught a glimpse of him thrusting his hand forward again and Sam let out a choked little whimper, then a bitten-back groan as Danny gave a shockingly sharp, hard smack to his ass. 

You had nothing to say to that. You simply tried to process what the hell was happening all around you once more, which was a good thing; you couldn’t exactly speak when Sam began nipping at your thigh and sliding two fingers inside of you. You kept your hands in his hair and fought the urge to close your eyes–you wanted to see as much as you could of Danny working his own fingers in and out of Sam and the way your ex-boyfriend’s body moved so sinuously with every motion. Sam pressed his tongue to your clit again, licking with impressive intention given the position he was in, while his soft grunts got muffled against your heat. 

“How’s that feel?” Danny asked, and you weren’t sure if he was asking you or Sam or both of you.

“Good,” you said at the same time Sam said, “Amazing.” He looked up with suspicion. “Just ‘good?’ Alright, guess I have to work harder.” He brought his face back down, lapping at your clit wetly while his fingers worked deeper and harder through your own wetness. You felt a little embarrassed at how you were already dampening the sheet beneath you but you couldn’t help it–this was by far the most wild and the hottest sexual experience of your life. It made you a little mad that Sam being a kind of shitty boyfriend had to be the lead up to it. 

Danny hummed. “So, Sam–think you’re ready?”

Sam nodded between your thighs, then looked up, his lips and chin shiny with your slick and his spit. “I’ve got an idea,” he began, lifting himself up and using your legs for leverage. “Get under me. That way, it’ll be like getting fucked by both of us.” He laughed a little, looking very satisfied with his own suggestion. “Except I'll still be getting fucked the way I want.” 

“Always about you,” you muttered, a futile sort of defense mechanism against this very bewildering idea. But Sam only pulled you down as much as he could, until you were halfway down the bed and halfway beneath him.

Danny, you could tell based on the crinkling sound, was getting a condom on; you watched him slip one to Sam, who wasted no time in tearing it open. His abdomen flexed as he stayed upright on his knees and rolled the condom over his own cock; you reached out to touch him, his body still so familiar. The onset of an ache, of wanting Sam so badly, began to override the ache for punishing him. Maybe all of this was an apology in and of itself. 

“I gotta get in you before he gets me,” Sam said. His voice was calm but his cheeks were vivid scarlet and sweat beaded on his hairline. You spread your legs and got your arms around his waist, both bringing him down to you and giving yourself some much-needed stability, and Sam slid into you like it was any other ordinary time, except for Danny’s hands looping around his chest and bringing his chin back to Sam’s shoulder. 

The slide was easy–probably far easier than Sam’s experience would be, you thought–and Danny watched while he sank his teeth into Sam’s skin, the swirling forest of his irises fixed on yours in a way that would have made you feel self-conscious if it weren’t for Sam overtaking you being so distracting. 

“God, you feel good,” Sam said quietly, giving a shallow thrust. That was enough to make you moan softly in response, gripping his middle more tightly. Your arms were brushing against Danny’s abdomen; Danny brought one hand to your forearm as if encouraging you both to keep going, so Sam did with a few more gentle shoves of his hips. As you were just getting used to the sensation of three bodies of increasing heat coming together, Sam’s cock sliding through your wetness and his hands squeezing your breasts, Danny shifted and Sam’s serene face turned to an open-mouthed, tense visage.

“That’s it, Sammy,” Danny encouraged. There was so much love in his voice that it made you feel loved too, though it was obvious in that moment he was wholly focused on Sam. Rightfully so. Sam responded viscerally not only with his facial expressions that only you could see, but with his voice, cursing softly and moaning low, and the full-body shudder that ran through him as Danny pushed forward. 

You could imagine it being a bit of a challenge to take Danny yourself; the fact that Sam could do it was actually a little amazing. “God, Sam,” you said, stroking his hair. The soft reverence emanating from Danny made you feel the same–this was an experience to be treasured no matter how it went. “This is so hot. You guys look really hot together.” 

“He feels so good. Literally so hot,” Danny said. He leaned over Sam again, making Sam push down on you, and subsequently into you, harder. Danny was fully in charge now, something you were entirely unopposed to–you watched, fascinated, as he began to move, his hands wandering over Sam’s chest and hips while he started to thrust. He built up a rhythm swiftly and easily, soon enough making Sam let out moans that became choked little sobbing sounds as Danny started to live up to expectations–he was fucking Sam hard and fast and you were on the receiving end of the last gyrations and echoes of his movements. 

You grabbed the back of Sam’s head, pulling him in to kiss. There was just barely enough room to snake your arm between the two of your bodies; your first two fingers made a V around the base of Sam’s cock, stroking him lightly before you brought them to circle your clit. Sam’s desperate moans were drowned out by your incessant kissing–you wanted to consume him like Danny did, or as close to it as possible.

Between pants and huffs of effort, Danny’s voice snaked through your ears: “Do you like it, Sammy?” he asked and you opened your ears, giving Sam some necessary air and giving yourself quite the view as you strained to the side. Danny’s thighs were flexing with each thrust and his hands had a stronghold around Sam’s hips; Sam was all wobbly limbs and flushed skin, his hands clamped on your shoulders. 

“Yeah,” was all Sam said. It was probably all he could say while Danny pounded into him. 

Danny’s eyebrows rose. “What was that?” You bit your lip as Sam’s face tensed, his eyes shut tight, and waited for Sam to respond, but he didn’t. He only moaned a little, quiet and subdued, then the tension was slashed to pieces by another hard smack against his ass. “Sam?” 

“Fuck!” Sam was explosive now with that one word, fucking himself back onto Danny and, subsequently, harder into you as he shifted back and forth. Words escaped you entirely as you just tried to ride through the dense waves, but Danny apparently had more.

“Tell Y/N how much you like this,” Danny demanded, yanking Sam’s head back by a fistful of hair, Sam squirming helplessly all the way. 

“Oh my god, I like it,” Sam let out breathlessly, trying to look back at Danny. With the additional space, you touched yourself again more freely. Your chest and stomach felt so tight, this huge buildup growing even more–the fear surrounding this was gone. The anticipation had been alleviated and the payoff was more than you’d ever imagined, because the image of Danny holding Sam’s hip while he pulled his hair, his lips roaming Sam’s neck, and Sam desperately trying to please both of you was the most incredible thing you’d ever seen. 

It was Danny's name that escaped your lips as you came, eyes shutting to dizzying blackness, shuddering violently beneath Sam and squeezing his cock tight inside you. Even in the throes of your own little explosion, you realized what you’d said and managed to say Sam’s name next, and reached for him with one hand. 

“Oh fuck, I like that too,” Sam said against your cheek, teeth then dragging down to your neck. “You coming around me while Danny fucks me. So fucking hot.” 

“Fuck, you guys–” you started to say, still out of breath, and tangled your fingers in Sam’s hair, trying to keep him close. “This is–wow. Are you close?”

“Sam’s ready to blow,” Danny answered, not showing any sign of slowing down. “He’s getting even tighter and–” He peeked down, then Sam gasped. “Yup, his balls are full. You gonna come for us, Sam?”

“Danny, where’d you learn how to dirty talk like this?” you questioned, genuinely flabbergasted by how easily the more easygoing, friendly and sometimes exceptionally shy and boyish side could give way to a man who was so in charge, so lustful, so commanding.

“He’s a secret slut,” Sam quipped, which got him another slap on the ass. He laughed a little, then you were caught in the dark again when he began to kiss you. Based on just that, it did seem like Sam was close–the kisses were getting sloppier, the stifled moans sharper, his hands squeezing your body harder. And when he did come, it wasn’t exactly what you were used to because Sam also moaned Danny’s name, both syllables whispered on your lips.

“That’s good, baby,” Danny cooed. Your vision was a bit fuzzy as you tried to look right at him, but you could see quite clearly how tenderly those big hands moved down Sam’s trembling back. The gentleness was short-lived–Danny went back into thrusting harshly, their muscles clashing against one another’s, Danny’s fingers raking down Sam’s sides. You’d never seen Danny come. Never thought you ever would. You thought that would be forever reserved for Sam now that they’d gotten together. So, enthralled once more, you stayed transfixed on him as he closed his eyes and lurched forward, his upper body hanging over Sam, his curls shielding parts of his face. But you could see the twitch of a brow and the parting of his lips, then the white teeth biting down, and then Danny let himself go entirely. He flopped down on top of Sam, who collapsed on top of you.

“Okay, jeez, you guys are heavy,” you noted after getting the wind knocked out of you. Sam stayed motionless, but Danny had the decency to get up. You turned your head to the side to watch him move off the bed, carefully roll the condom off himself and grab his pants from the floor. You considered asking him to stay naked because, well, why not? But then Sam groaned loudly, interrupting your thoughts.

“I’m gonna be so fucking sore tomorrow,” he declared, finally rolling off you, spreading out on his back; he stretched and you heard a crack come from somewhere. “Thanks, Daniel.”

Danny stepped over to pat Sam’s thigh. “You’re welcome.” He looked over at you. “How are you feeling?”

“I–” you paused, trying to find the right words, but first you needed to find your clothes again. Sam might have been comfortable living nude as often as he could, but you needed some sense of familiar security around you after all that. As you got redressed, you continued: “I felt many things during all that, honestly. It was kinda fun to see Sam getting wrecked.” Danny beamed at that, which almost made you laugh, which made Sam actually laugh. “I think you guys really are great together and I’m happy for you. But breaking up still really hurt.”

Danny gave a sympathetic frown then, his eyes becoming softer; Sam crawled over to your seat at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry. I really am,” he said, sounding shockingly genuine. “I should’ve been a better boyfriend while I was still your boyfriend.”

“It’s okay, Sam, honestly,” you assured him, patting the arm that had wrapped around you. “It’s over and, really, it was fine. You were just in love with someone else. Better being in love with Danny than some random stranger or something.”

“Maybe if he’d told me sooner, we wouldn’t have ended up in that whole mess.”

Danny scoffed, planting his hands on his hips as he stood in front of both of you. “I sent you like, a million signals, Sam. You were pretty much the only person who didn't realize sooner.”

“It’s true,” you chimed in. “Looking back, Danny never really tried to hide anything.”

Sam sighed, then hopped off the bed and plastered himself against Danny’s side. “Okay, well, we didn’t hide anything tonight, did we?” He reached down and grabbed Danny’s crotch while kissing his cheek.

Danny hissed and slapped Sam’s hand away. “Too much too soon.”

“Never too much,” Sam replied, sneaking in another kiss, holding Danny close. “Never too soon.”

“Ugh.” You got to your feet, too. “Too much sappy romance for me.”

Sam cackled and grabbed your hand. “No, don’t leave. The night can’t end like this.”

“Yeah, we all at least need a few shots or a bowl or something,” Danny agreed with a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. “And a shower. Definitely a shower.”

“I get to go first,” Sam announced, breaking free and jetting out of the room, leaving you with a final image of his reddened ass, all thanks to Danny. 

So then it was just you and Danny standing in the middle of the bedroom where so many unexpected, wild and beautiful things had happened. You looked at the chair that you’d been sitting in, so unassuming, then to the disheveled bed, and Danny put one arm around your shoulders.

“Thanks for doing this, Y/N,” he said. “Sam still talks about you all the time. He really cares about you. I think he respects you a lot, too.”

“I’ll always care about him,” you told Danny. His touch was as comforting as your clothes, weirdly enough. You were starting to understand more and more why Sam was so smitten with him. “I care about you too, Danny.”

From the hallway, Sam shouted, “Do you care enough about me to let my boyfriend get in the shower with me?” 

Danny rolled his eyes while you laughed. “Okay, big guy,” you said, steering him out of the room. “You get in there while I get the drinks.”

---

Tagging no one (RIP my old fandom). If you'd like to be tagged in my fics, you can go HERE or DM me!

[abeautylives]

A Friend in Need

a/n: Just another little thought that turned into a whole thing! I wrote this pre-album name drop and pre-song release and I forgot that I needed to publish it. Credit to @samkiszkasfacialhair for certain artistic choices made lmfao, love you bff. Anyways, stream Greta Van Fleet's latest single, Meeting the Master 🫡

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: 3.2k

summary: He just needs some relief. Who are you to deny him?

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, language, the illusion of non-consent (it's 100% consensual), friends with benefits, light manhandling, unprotected penetrative sex, rough sex, degradation, oral (m. receiving)

The fine hairs on your arms raise, the air almost crackling with a subtle electricity that your body senses before you’ve even heard him. It’s always like this, you can feel when he’s entered a room before you turn to see him.

Now that you know he’s there, you can hear his bare feet padding softly toward you and you wonder where he’d snuck in from. The front door hasn’t opened since you’ve been in the sitting room but you suppose you could have just missed each other in passing, he could have arrived and slunk up the stairs in silence as you’d stood in the kitchen filling the watering can you’re now wielding. Just as you stretch to hydrate the pothos bathing in the light streaming in through the window, a pair of warm hands slide over the skin peeking out from below the hem of your t-shirt.

It’s suddenly clear why he hadn’t announced his arrival, why his jubilant voice had not rung through the foyer, calling for you.

Something is wrong.

You know Joshua well, and you have for several years. Fast friends since the day you’d met, he’d recently asked you to look after his house when he was away, to tend his plants and the feral cat that lurks around his backyard. Although he claims he has no attachment to it, he insists on making sure it’s fed.

And so, your duties had been outlined clearly: drop by and fill the cat’s dish on the back porch, grab any mail from the box and leave it on the kitchen counter, water the plants if they need it. He’d insisted on compensating you for your efforts, which you’d declined in hopes of not ending up on his payroll.

Thank god you’d rejected his offer. Being in his employ would make what you think is about to happen rather… improper.

Without turning to face him, you keep your tone light as you settle on your heels and ask if he’s okay. He doesn’t respond with words, just drops his head forward and rests his forehead against the threadbare cotton covering your shoulder. You feel his head move from side to side as he shakes it, no.

“What do you need, Josh, how can I help?” His continued silence makes you nervous, his fingers pressed into the thin skin at your hip bones bring you closer. You know the answer, already accepted the truth of it. The watering can clatters over the hardwood as he knocks it away, you're pulled from the window and your face is pressed into the adjoining wall before you can concern yourself with the water splashed across your ankles.

With his fingers laced into the hair at the base of your neck he keeps you there, cheek pushed into the cool surface as his other hand works to push the elastic waistband of your leggings down past your hips. You open your mouth to speak, to stop him or tell him to keep going, you’re not sure but he snaps your head back and the only sound that escapes you is a pained inhale of breath. Straining to see his face over your shoulder, you find reddened cheeks and knit eyebrows, full lips set into a tight line. The flush is creeping down his neck and across his chest, bare and heaving.

“Josh…”

“Shut up. I don’t wanna talk about it.” He’s mad, or sad, or both and he’s got your leggings hugging your thighs just above your knees, fingers tucked under the plain cotton at your hip, already sliding it down. “I need to fuck something, how fortuitous to find you here even though you knew I was getting back today. Convenient.”

Oh, he’s pissed.

Your panties fall and meet the bunched up fabric at your knees but the hand that’s pushed them there doesn’t leave you, its fingertips skim up the back of your thigh and sink into the soft flesh of your asscheek. Finally glancing up to meet your eyes, his are pleading with you but his mouth expresses his need differently.

“Spread your legs.”

You nod against his hold and try to obey his command, but the elastic wrapped around you only allows your feet to move but so far from each other.

“That’s as far as-“

He throws off your balance and stops your words in their tracks, his own foot coming between yours to kick them farther apart. You can hear minuscule threads snapping, the material stretching until it breaks and satisfied with that, he leans in and runs the tip of his nose up the side of your neck. He takes his time, breathes in the scent of you and loosens his grip on your hair. This is going to be the solitary moment of tenderness, you can feel that in his touch and you brace yourself for his next words.

“I need you.” It hits your skin and travels down your spine. As your head nods your consent, your body offers it as well, your back arching just slightly and ass pushing against his hips. “I’m not gonna be nice. I need to fuck you… is that okay?”

His voice is quiet, deep and it gives off the impression that whatever tempest had been brewing inside him had stilled, but you know this is simply the calm before the storm. You face it headfirst.

“Yeah, Josh. It’s okay… take what you need. I'm here.”

So lightly that you barely feel it, he ghosts his lips over the skin just below your earlobe before he nods his head.

A tense hand slides down the back of your neck and holds on tight. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.” The other is between your legs before you can respond, and pleased with what he discovers there, he growls his gratification into your ear. “Your pussy is practically dripping for me, begging me to use her.”

His fingers are slipping through your obvious arousal with no intention to pleasure you, only to take from you. You hum at the feeling anyway, just to lose it when he pulls away to undo the fastenings of his pants. Your body relaxes without the pressure of his hold around your neck as his pants sink down around his ankles, he’s definitely not pleased when he notices and you’re pushed against the surface again once his cock is freed.

“I said don’t move.” There’s a barely contained anger rolling off of him like a haze, a fog clouding his normally sunny demeanor. He shoves his hand between your thighs again, fingers indelicately sliding through to collect some of the slick moisture leaking from you. A timid whine sounds from deep in your throat, it’s a little embarrassing that he’s affected you like this, that your body is so willing to accept a punishment for something that has nothing to do with you. Your cunt mourns the loss when his touch leaves you again, but his knuckles are brushing against the swell of your ass as he rubs your arousal over himself.

Unable to see him fully, all you can do is sense his next moves but your muscles jump when he runs the tip of his dick down the cleft of your ass before he slips it where his fingers had been. His skin is like velvet and fire, and you only get to appreciate it for a moment before he’s pushed inside you to the hilt.

“Fuck fuckfuckfuck Josh-“

In an instant he’s everywhere, fingertips digging into you and the other hand smoothing up the front of your body, under your shirt until those fingers are sunk into the pillowy softness of your naked breast. His breaths are heavy against your ear, the heat from his chest blanketing you as his hips work themselves into your ass.

He’s bruising you from the inside out, you can feel it with every thrust and you let him, taking his retribution silently until a deep stroke buckles your knees and rips a cry past your lips.

The chuckle that huffs out and over your cheek is sinister and hot. “Did that hurt, angel?” Rather than soften his blows, he puts his full weight into them. The mewling whimpers escaping you sound pitiful, even to you, even as you’re clenching down around him. “You liked it, didn’t you?”

You’re left empty when you offer no response, spun to face him and pushed back against the wall by a palm splayed across the middle of your chest.

“I asked you a question.”

He looks sinful like this, curls already sticking to his forehead, perfectly straight teeth bared in what you’d almost consider a snarl. He expects an answer but you let your eyes travel over the sharp angles and soft curves of him, let your gaze drop until it lands below his navel. You’ve never seen him in this state of undress, fully nude aside from the khakis and briefs resting around his ankles. The last time you’d let him find relief between your legs, neither of you had removed an article of clothing. It had been hurried and hushed, and afterward you’d smoothed out your skirt and left the dressing room.

You’d told yourself that last time was the last time. But he needs you.

A sharp sting brings you back to focus, his hand is still against your cheek when your eyes snap to his.

“What the f-“

“I asked you a question. Did I hurt you?”

He had, but it’s already a distant memory that recalls as pleasure rather than pain. “Yes…”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes…”

He sounds disgusted by your admission. “You did, I felt you squeezing me, whining for it like a whore.”

Oh god. Heat spreads across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, burning the spot where he slapped you.

“Take your fucking clothes off, I’m not done with you.” He kicks his own away and turns his back to you, casually moving toward the couch and relaxing into it, an arm outstretched over the back. You watch each other as you free your feet and pull your shirt over your head, as he takes his cock into his fist and strokes it slowly. He looks almost regal as he wields his command over you with his eyes alone.

“Interesting that you were waiting here for me, tits out. Indecent, really. Come here.” It’s not lost in the moment that he’s never seen you this way either, his eyes are zeroed in on your chest as you move across the room. “I want your mouth, you gonna let me have it?” He’s surprised when you sink to your knees but he wipes it from his expression immediately and tangles his fingers into your hair. “You really are my whore, aren’t you?”

You bat your eyelashes as you replace his hand with your own around his cock, swollen and still slick from you. Your lips meet the tip, a chaste kiss pressed into his flushed skin. “Whatever you need, Josh.” He groans as your tongue darts out to wet your lips, sighs in relief as he slips past them and growls when you take him to the back of your throat. His grip against your scalp tightens and you let a moan ripple around him, ready to pull out all the stops and give him your best but before you make your first move, he jerks you off of him.

A string of saliva keeps you connected before it breaks and dribbles down your chin.

“I’m not in the mood for some pretty princess blowjob, don’t bother.” With wide eyes, you nod in understanding and open your mouth, tongue laid out for him. He forces you down around him and holds you there, nose pressed into the soft hair at the base until your lungs are burning. When he pulls you back slowly, you drag your tongue along the silken length and release him with a pop, suck in a ragged breath before you take him in again. Wrenching you over his lap with the fist locked in your hair, his hips are thrusting up from the couch, you bring your hands to rest on his thighs and feel them bunch under your touch.

With your lips wrapped around his cock, cheeks hollowed and tears pricking the corners of your eyes, it strikes you that the way your fingertips are pressed into the muscle of his legs feels like the most intimate way you’ve ever touched him. You also realize that between your own legs you’re throbbing with neglect.

Lost in the way he’s fucking your mouth, grunting through clenched teeth and eyes clamped shut, he doesn’t notice when you slide a hand off of his and slip it between your own thighs. Two fingers tucked inside, you pump them at the same rhythm that he’s working himself over with inside your mouth before swirling them over your clit. A quiet but high pitched whine, interrupted in your throat by his thrusts, draws attention to what you’ve done.

“Absolutely not.” You’re pulled up and away from his lap until you're face to face, noses touching and heaving breaths mixing. He looks incensed but you can’t help but wonder what it’s like to kiss his lips. “If you cum, and I truly don’t care if you don’t, it’s going to be with my cock inside that greedy pussy of yours.”

Just as quickly as he’d had you against the wall, he’s got you bent over with your face pushed into the back of the couch. You’re braced for him to slam into you, but he takes a moment to commit his view to memory. Your back is arched and legs spread across the cushions, knees sunk into the fabric, he can see everything. Gripped tight in his fist, he rubs himself through you, takes in the way you open for him, soft pink skin spread around him.

“Pretty…” He says it so quietly, when you think back to this you’ll be sure you imagined it.

He pushes into you slowly, just for the visual. As soon as he’s bottomed out he rears back and slams his hips against you, over and over, hands wrapped around the small of your waist. His voice, gravelly and laced around the edges with hunger, rises over the sound of your bodies colliding.

“I want it, need to feel it. Touch yourself. Fuck-“

More eager to give him what he needs than to take it for yourself, you do as he’s commanded. Your fingers slide over your clit sloppily, your entire body jerking forward with each of his thrusts as he fucks into you at a brutal pace. You feel a hand slide up your spine and find its home back in your hair, he yanks your head back.

“You’d do anything I wanted. You’d let me fuck your ass right now, wouldn’t you?” There’s venom in his tone again and it shoots straight to your core.

“Yes, anything, anything!”

He just needed to hear it. “Filthy, fucking filthy.”

Your orgasm takes hold, a hot rush of shame and pleasure gripping you and pulling you under. His name tumbles forth, absorbed into the cushions and through the frenetic buzz in your brain you hear him call out to you.

With an animalistic groan, he releases it all. Whatever had happened that brought him home frustrated and needing, he lets it go as he spills inside you. He doesn’t stop, fucking it all into you until he’s empty, completely spent.

When he collapses, he pulls you with him and into his chest as he falls to his side onto the couch. You can feel the change in him, the heaviness he was carrying when he’d entered the room is gone, and any resistance to his fondness for you fails as his lips come to rest on your shoulder. When you’ve both caught your breath, he slips from your body and shoots you a shy grin as he helps you sit up.

You try not to watch as he stands to stretch and walks across the room to retrieve your discarded clothes and his pants, but his ass is bubbly and cute and you figure you deserve to enjoy the view. When he bends to scoop up his pants he catches your gaze over his shoulder.

“Like what you see?”

You do, and that’s probably fine. “Ehh, it’s alright. Jake’s ass is better.”

Your t-shirt flies through the air and lands across your face, you’re laughing as you pull it away and start tugging it over your head.

“Jake's ass is bigger. Not better.” He’s stepped into his khakis and his affectionate giggles trail off as he tucks himself into them and slides the zipper up. Eyebrows knit together again, he appears to be in serious contemplation as he picks up your balled up leggings and underwear. You’re still naked from the waist down as he comes to sit at your side.

“Hey.. you know I didn’t mean that, right?” His eyes are trained on your face, swimming with worry as he carefully ensures that they don’t wander lower.

“Give me those. Didn’t mean what?” He hands over your clothes and you pluck your panties free, bending to slip them up your legs and lifting your hips to pull them higher, unconcerned when his eyes dart to the junction of your thighs before it’s hidden from view.

“When I called you… ya know.” His head drops forward and he huffs a sigh of disbelief.

“A whore?” He meets your eyes and cringes before running a hand over his face then dropping it to place it softly over your own, resting in your lap.

“I don’t think you’re- I mean, I would never think that of you. I’m lucky to have you.”

“Josh.” You tug your hand free of his to cup his sweet face in your palms, smoothing your thumbs over the corners of his mouth until a lopsided smile pulls his dimple to the surface. “I know that. Do you wanna… talk about whatever happened today?”

“No. No, I feel better. You’re too good to me, I don’t pay you enough.” The rest of his perfect smile stretches across his lips, the first real one you’ve seen since he snuck into the house.

“You don’t pay me at all, and it’s going to stay that way.” You pat his cheek as you stand from the couch and he doesn’t stop himself from watching your bare skin disappear as you step into your leggings and pull them up. “You do owe me a new pair of these, though. They’re all stretched out.”

His grin is smug, self-satisfied. “Consider it done. Do you wanna stay and hang out? We can order food, I’m fucking starving.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m gonna go… clean up.” His cum is leaking from you slowly, you try not to mention it.

“Oh, oh my god yeah of course.” A pink tint of embarrassment creeps over his face, making you chuckle. He calls out as you leave the room, “Hey, what do you want, I’ll order it!”

“Whatever you want, Joshua! Whatever you want.”

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Hi beauties, I was not keeping track of Taglist requests that were specific to Imperfect Moments so if you didn’t want to be included here I’M SO SORRY. Please just let me know and I’ll do better in the future 😘

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Travelers In Time

Travelers In Time

Pairing: Josh Kiszka and Female Reader

Summary: A morning shower with Josh brings back steamy memories of the night before

Warnings: Unprotected sex and all that comes with it.

Word Count: 5.3k

You woke up in the morning to the sun creeping through the windows and Josh’s sleeping body resting next to you. You rubbed your face, stretched out your legs, and sat up on your elbow to take a good look at him.

He was in what seemed to be a deep sleep. He was laying on his back with his face turned toward you. His lips were parted ever so slightly and they were just a bit swollen. His cheeks had a hint of pink spread across them the same way they would if he had gotten a bit of sun on a summer day. His hair was wild. The sides of his head were shaved down and clean but the curls that once took up his head had turned into loose waves as it grew longer and throughout the night they had twisted and tangled themselves in every direction. 

He looked absolutely fucked out. And he should.

You and Josh had the best sex of your lives last night. 

It was rough and needy with pockets of sweet and loving moments. It was goodbye sex. He was going to be leaving for the next few weeks and you couldn’t go with him. 

He gave you all he had and you did the same for him, knowing the memories of each other would have to last the next few weeks until he would return home again. 

After a few minutes of admiring his sleeping state, you scooted over to him and reached for him under the covers. 

You ran your hand over his stomach and rubbed on it lightly, feeling the grooves of his ab muscles under your fingertips. 

With the contact, he took in a deep breath and his eyes fluttered open. He let out a breathy groan and stretched his body out. His lips parted into a lazy smile and he mumbled, “G’Morning.” 

His voice was as smooth as velvet but as deep and rough as tires rolling along a gravel road. 

“Morning,” you replied in a whisper as you leaned closer and kissed the side of his mouth.

He rolled over onto his side and held you close to him. Your hand traveled around to his back and he nestled his head into the crook of your neck.

“‘M gonna take a shower. You wanna come?” he mumbled into your ear between a few light kisses.

“Mhm,” you replied, “in five minutes.”

You gave him a soft kiss on the lips and continued cuddling him for a few more minutes, savoring the moments with him.

“Five minutes, Mama!” Josh called from the other room as you laid in bed waiting for him. 

You had nothing on but one of his old T-shirts and a black lace lingerie set underneath. 

It was an old faded green T-Shirt from Big Bear Lake that he never wore anymore. For years, it’s home was the back of his bottom dresser drawer but you dug it up one day and claimed it as yours ever since. You loved how soft and stretched out it was from how he wore it out throughout the years. You also loved how in its stretched out state, it fit you perfectly and rested just under your butt. 

You sighed, rolled over onto your stomach, lifted your feet up in the air, and crossed your legs at your ankles, letting the shirt slide up just over your ass. 

You grabbed your phone and began scrolling mindlessly while you waited for him. 

Like clockwork, in five minutes, you heard the bedroom door close and turned your head to see Josh at the foot of the bed, looking at you with a smirk on his face. 

He was looking down at you like you were his next meal. His eyes were filled with love, lust, and everything wonderful yet sinful. 

“What took you so lon-” you began as he grabbed your ankle and pulled you down the bed, closer to him.

Your body flipped over with his pull and he threw himself on top of you.

His body pressed into yours and his hand snuck up your side, lifting the shirt up over your hip ever so slightly.

“Had to finish some things up. I’m all yours now,” he said as he leaned down to give you a kiss on the lips. 

He puckered his lips out and yours wrapped around his perfectly. You held onto him for a moment before breaking the kiss so he could sit up and take his shirt off.

The sound of Josh’s whispering brought you back to reality as he sat up and peeled the sheets off of him.

“Hey,” he said softly, “Come on,”

He gave your body a couple pats above the blankets as he slid out of bed, stepped into his boxers from the night before, and walked into the bathroom.

You grabbed the previously disregarded t-shirt from the floor just below you, threw it on, and followed him.

As you brushed your teeth, you watched Josh’s reflection in the mirror. 

In nothing but a pair of gray boxer briefs, he opened up the glass door and reached into the shower to turn the water on. 

Steam filled the shower and the smell of eucalyptus from the leaves on the shower head filled the air as the vapor lifted through the air and spilled out into the rest of the bathroom. 

He stuck his hand under the running water to check the temperature and pulled it out once he was satisfied. He shook it out to air dry his fingers and droplets of hot water flew through the air as he walked over to you. 

He grabbed you from behind and snaked his hands around your back and onto your stomach. He rested his chin on your shoulder and looked at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror. 

He kissed your cheek a few times and the hairs on his face tickled you and made you giggle.

When you finished brushing your teeth, Josh spun you around to face him, pulling you in by the small of your back.

Your eyes traveled from his face, to his neck, and they grew wide when you took sight of his chest for the first time that morning. It was covered in red and purple marks.

You brought your hands up to his chest and ran your fingers over the bruises you were responsible for. 

He winced and sucked in a hiss as your hand brushed over the particularly sensitive spots.

“Don’t leave marks, Mama. I have shows in a few days,” he groaned.

“Mmm, I don’t care,” you said as you continued littering his chest with bites and nibbles, watching pink and red patches appear on the surface of his skin.

“Fuck, you’re gonna get me in trouble,” he laughed. 

“Just don’t wear the white suit. Wear the gold one and zip it up,” you said in between kisses and bites.

He let out sighs as you ran your tongue flat over the places you worked harder on, in an attempt to soothe them.

“Remind me to ask Jenn to pack that one,” he giggled.

“Mhm,” you said with your mouth attached to his collarbone.

Lightly, you ran your index finger over his collarbone, tracing where your mouth had been just eight hours ago. 

“Sorry, Baby,” you whispered as you continued to examine his chest.

“Don’t be,” he said.

He brought his hand up to your neck and you felt instant pain the second he pressed his finger to it.

“You got a couple too,” he laughed as he slid past you and grabbed his toothbrush from the holder on the countertop. 

He smiled at you with his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth as you took a good look at yourself in the mirror. You tilted your head back and pushed your hair out of the way to see some red and purple patches of your own. 

You looked at him in the mirror and he smiled a full smile at you with toothpaste oozing out of his mouth.

You gave his butt a smack as you walked away from him and headed to the shower. 

You lifted the shirt off your body and you watched him through the reflection of the glass door.

He watched you take the shirt off and throw it into the hamper by the door. He stopped brushing his teeth momentarily as his eyes scanned your body up and down.

When you turned your head to look at him, he looked away and continued brushing his teeth in an attempt to hide the fact that he’d been watching you the entire time. 

He lifted the t-shirt up over your head and looked down at your body underneath him.

“Mmm, you know what the all black does to me,” he said as he looked down at you with lust filled eyes.

There was something about the all black set you wore that brought out something different in Josh.

 Maybe it was the cut of it. Maybe it was the lace or the sheer mesh. Or maybe it was the fact that he bought it specifically for you to wear on his birthday last year and that was the best sex the two of you had had up until this point. 

Whatever it was, anytime he saw it on you, he knew it would be a time to remember. 

You grabbed the back of his neck as he hovered over you. He leaned down and kissed you deeply. You returned the kiss and held onto it for a few moments before breaking it and looking deep into his eyes.

“Josh,” you whispered, “Will you make love to me?”

His eyes softened and his mouth parted into a sweet smile.

“Of course. I’m gonna love you so good,” he said as he gave you a gentle kiss on the lips. 

He raised his finger to your face and lightly grazed the side of your cheek with his knuckle. 

“But when I’m done loving you… I’m gonna fuck you.”

At the word “fuck” he pushed his hips down into yours as you sucked in a gasp. 

“Is that alright with you?” he asked with his voice turning sweet yet condescending. 

His eyes were dark. His jaw was clenched. The shadows that casted from the only light in the room made his features look extra sharp.

“Perfect,” you whispered.

The temperature of the water was perfect. You stepped into the shower and let the hot water run all over you for a few minutes until Josh slid open the door and joined you. 

You switched spots with him and let the water cover his body. You watched the water drip from the tip of his nose down over his mouth, getting his face fully wet. 

The water weighed his hair down and darkened it a bit. His now straight hair fell against the sides of his head and his forehead in every direction. 

You grabbed the shampoo from the rack, squeezed some out into your hands, and rubbed them together until they were sudsy. You brought your hands to his head and massaged the product into it, watching bubbles take over his head. 

You scratched his scalp with your finger tips and ran your hands over the shaved sides of his head. The short hairs pricked your fingers and palms as you massaged his head. 

He closed his eyes and a tiny closed mouth smile spread across his face as soapy drips of water started to fall past his forehead and drip down to his eyes.

Josh was in deep concentration. His eyes were closed and his mouth was alternating between sucking on your clit and lapping and slurping up the combination of his own saliva and your wetness. 

The short hairs on the side of his head scratched the insides of your thighs as he moved his head in every direction.

His mustache and beard tickled your sensitive areas with every purse of his lips and movement of his jaw. 

You had your hands buried deep in his hair, pushing his face closer to your center to add more pressure. 

He moaned into you and the vibration from his voice sent you over the edge. 

Your back arched and you pushed his face closer towards your center as orgasm after orgasm ripped through you. 

You pulled at his hair in an attempt to physically take hold of something. Your fingers flexed and tangled his loose curls up into each other.

Josh was used to hair pulling with you and normally, he stopped after one. He would push it with two sometimes. But this time, he wasn’t stopping. 

You called his name at least five times, all of which went unheard. You pulled harder on his hair, but all he did was moan at the feeling, causing the beginnings of overstimulation for you.

He was in his own world and he had no intention of coming back down.

You grabbed a handful of his hair from the top of his head and yanked on it one final time, causing his head to fly back. 

He opened his eyes and looked up at you.

His face was full of shock. The area around his mouth glistened with the mixture of the two of you on his lips and face. The hairs of his mustache were shiny and coated with your arousal. His wet lips parted into an O shape.

“What?” he asked.

“You done?” you laughed.

He broke into a smile, realizing he got carried away.

“Sorry,” he laughed, “I got a little… lost I guess.”

He crawled back up to you and you brought your palm to his mouth to wipe him clean.

You wiped your hands over his face and wiped all the bubbles away. He opened his eyes and tipped his head back to rinse off. 

You switched places with him and fully submerged yourself in the stream of water as he grabbed the shampoo bottle from the shelf and squeezed more into his hands. 

“Turn around,” he said as he rubbed his hands together.

You did as he said and within seconds, his hands found your hair and started massaging shampoo into it. He dug his fingers into your scalp and moved them in little circular motions. 

You sighed as he applied the perfect amount of pressure to your scalp. His fingers felt amazing and he moved them expertly.

Josh lathered the shampoo into your roots and ran his hands through your hair to disperse it further. 

“That’s it, Mama. Just like that,” he said, looking down at you through half hooded eyes.

His hand tangled into the roots of your hair at the back of your head and moved your head expertly up and down on his dick to guide you. 

He broke eye contact to throw his head back onto the pillow underneath him in pleasure.

You closed your eyes and worked with him, letting him set the pace. 

You suctioned your mouth around his cock and swirled your tongue around it as he bobbed your head up and down, pulling at the roots of your hair each time he pulled you up. You liked it, that little sting of pain.

Josh was a mess underneath you. He gasped and whimpered every time you licked, sucked, and swallowed around him. 

He pushed your head down further to get more of what he wanted and a sudden gag from your mouth had him yank you up by the hair quickly.

You opened your now tear filled eyes to see a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his dick.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked nervously.

His eyes were full of concern.

“Yeah,” you said as you caught your breath and sat up on your knees. 

“I’m sorry. Come here,” he whispered.

You crawled over to him and he wiped away your tears and the mess around your mouth. 

You sat on his lap and he brought his hands up to cup your jaw.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said as he leaned forward and kissed you softly on the lips.

“I know, it’s okay. I liked it,” you said as you bit your bottom lip and smiled at him.

His eyes widened and his concerned expression faded as his lips formed a full toothed smile.

He grabbed your hair again, this time pushing it back off your face gently and combing his fingers through it.

You opened your eyes to the feeling of Josh's hands combing through your hair as he rinsed all the excess shampoo out of it. 

You heard him pop open the conditioner bottle and felt his hands on the ends of your hair, gently combing through the ends and covering them with it.

You turned around as he rubbed the rest of the conditioner that was in his palms, through his own hair.

You reached up and grabbed his hands to slow him down and get the ends of his hair properly. 

Your fingers slid against his as you worked the conditioner through the ends of his hair and down the sides of his head.

He brought his hands down, with yours on top of his and he reached out to hold your jaw in the palms of his hands. 

You grabbed onto his wrists and rubbed on them with your thumbs as the water fell in between your faces. You stood there for a moment just looking at him, taking the sight of him in. 

You started intently at Josh as he hovered above you and placed one hand beside your head while the other held onto his dick, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Ready?” he whispered.

You reached up to grab his wrist and nodded.

With your permission, he slowly eased himself into you. He looked down to see what he was doing and then looked back into your eyes the second he slid the tip in. 

You watched his eyes widen slightly at the feeling.

His mouth opened and he breathed in and out shakily as he bottomed out before sliding out again and repeating the actions.

He started slow and soft, giving you kisses on the mouth as well as along your jaw and on your neck as you reached for his back and rubbed it up and down.

You reached behind him and grabbed the bar of soap off the shelf and one of the two fresh washcloths that were hanging on the wall. 

You handed the washcloth to him and he spread it out in his palm, letting the water from the showerhead get it nice and wet.

You rubbed the soap into it, getting a good lather in the washcloth. You placed the soap back on the shelf and Josh brought the sudsy washcloth to your neck.

He rubbed up and down your neck and shoulders, careful not to push too hard on any of the bruises he left behind.

This wasn’t normally anything Josh paid too much mind to. But that time, he was extra careful with you.

Josh continued down to your chest, rubbing the washcloth in circular motions. 

His lips parted into a small smile and his tongue traced over his bottom lip as he watched the soap bubble up on your tits. 

You reached up to his chin and lifted it up so his eyes met yours again.

You grabbed on the hairs on his chin and moved his head around gently. His pupils grew wide and wild as a full smile spread across his face.

“Eyes up here, Perv,” you joked.

“Can’t help it,” he said while you were still in control of his chin.

You let him go and he squinted his eyes and bit the inside of his mouth. He moved the washcloth around to your back and pulled you close to him.

With big motions, he ran it up and down the length of your back and slid it down over your butt. With one hand covered in the wash cloth, and the other bare, he grabbed onto the backs of your legs and rubbed up and down on them.

“Fuck, Josh,” you breathed out as he grabbed your leg, bent it at your knee, and hiked it up. He pushed down on the back of your thigh where your leg met your ass and thrusted into you- slow but with purpose.

With the new angle, he was able to go deeper and hit exactly where you needed him to. 

You felt the head of his dick brush against your g-spot with every thrust, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“There,” you whined, “Right there.”

He leaned down and kissed you, your moans disappearing into his mouth. He broke the kiss and pulled away slightly to speak.

“Come on, Mama, it’s all you. Touch yourself for me,” he groaned as his hand continued pushing down on your leg. 

You reached down and began swirling circles on your clit with one hand while your other hand had a strong grip on Josh’s hair at the base of his head.

The combination of his mouth on yours, his breath on your skin, his dick inside you, and your fingers working their own magic instantly sent you into feelings of ecstasy.

You closed your eyes, tipped your head back, and let your orgasm wash over you while he continued with his movements to keep it going for as long as possible.

You opened your eyes back up as your orgasm faded and he stilled his movements, giving both of you a break.

“So pretty when you cum,” he whispered as his hand that was once on your leg, came up to your forehead and lightly brushed your hair out of your face. 

You reached your hand back up and interlocked his fingers with yours. 

He let go of your leg and brought your hand up to his lips. He kissed your knuckles before leaning down to kiss you gently on the lips.

Josh released his grip on your legs and handed you the washcloth for you to finish yourself up. You got all the places he didn’t while he grabbed a washcloth for himself and added soap to it. 

He held it out for you and you took it from him.

You brought it up to his neck and started rubbing circles into his skin. He was watching you intently with the tiniest closed mouth smile spread across his face. You could tell he liked this treatment.

You got his neck good and he closed his eyes and shut them tight in anticipation as you began lowering the washcloth to his chest. 

You gave his chest a few gentle swipes, careful not to irritate the already beat up skin. 

As you moved from his chest to his shoulders, he opened his eyes back up to meet yours. 

You ran the washcloth down his arm and gave his bicep a squeeze on your way down to his hand, making both of you giggle. 

You repeated the action to his other arm and watched the bubbles left over from his chest drip down over his stomach.

The trail of bubbles ran over the ridges of his abs and ran down the rest of his torso, gathering in the hair covering his lower stomach and groin. 

You reached your hand out to his stomach and traced his ab muscles with your fingers. With the contact, his muscles tightened and you looked up at him to see him looking down at your hand and biting his bottom lip.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum,” he choked out as you grinded your hips down on top of him, meeting his thrusts halfway. He tucked his lip into his mouth and bit down hard on it, fighting every urge to release himself.

You rested your hands on his stomach for support and felt his muscles tighten with every upward motion of his hips. 

His hands held onto your hips and he dug his fingertips into your skin.

“Doing what?” you asked, playing dumb, and giving him another roll of your hips.

“That. FUCK!” he said loudly as he lifted you off him and practically threw you down onto the bed next to him. 

He sat up on his knees, moved you into the spot he once occupied, and gave his dick a few pumps.

You opened up your legs for him and he settled himself back into you.

“You have to play fair, Mama,” he warned, “ I told you I was gonna fuck you. Now let me.”

Your hands found his back and you dug your nails into his skin as he fucked you exactly as he said he would; fast, needy, and rough.

You lifted your leg up once again, this time letting it wrap around Josh’s back. You dug your heel into his lower back, pulling him closer to you and pushing him deeper inside you as he continued driving into you harder than he ever had before.

With every thrust, his body pushed yours further up the mattress until you could feel the headboard against the top of your head. 

His face was buried in your neck and you felt the sweat from his face transfer onto your skin.

“Fuck, I’m there, I’m gonna cum,” he groaned into your neck.

“Come on, cum for me, Baby,” you cooed.

You grabbed the hair at the base of his neck and lifted his head up so his eyes met yours.

His eyes were tired and they were begging you to let him cum.

You placed your lips on his and instantly, his lips parted and he let a moan into your mouth. He tipped his head back slightly and you watched his eyes roll into the back of his head as his own orgasm washed over him. 

He fucked you through it and slowed his movements as he came to completion. 

He pulled out of you slowly and the two of you looked down at the beginnings of a mess between your legs. His eyes met yours again and he leaned down to kiss you again before leaving the bed to get a washcloth.

He looked back up at you and took the washcloth in his hand. He scrubbed under his arms, and bent down to get the rest of his body.

He held onto the shower wall and lifted his foot up to wash it.

“Gotta keep the money maker’s clean,” he joked.

“Freak,” you laughed as you tilted your head back and rinsed the conditioner out of your hair.

You looked back at him as he rinsed the soap out of the washcloth and rung it out, letting the excess water splash onto the shower floor.

You heard Josh turn the sink off and he came out of the bathroom with a damp washcloth, holding one hand underneath it so it didn’t drip onto the floor.

He sat down in bed next to you and moved your legs to open them up. 

He reached down to wipe you clean. You gasped at the contact to the now sensitive area. 

“Sorry,” he whispered as he softened his touch, “Better?”

You nodded and watched his face as he worked. His expression was calm. His eyes were soft. He stuck his tongue between his lips in concentration as he made sure he got it all.

You reached your hand down to his and guided him.

“There,” he whispered as he pulled away with you now all cleaned up.

You and Josh both got one last rinse of your bodies before you turned the water off.

Josh opened the shower door, stepped out, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He held another one out for you and let you walk into it. 

He wrapped it around you and rubbed his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. 

You both dried off and got dressed in comfy clothes. 

He threw on another white t-shirt and light gray sweatpants and gave himself a look in the mirror as you combed your hair.

You turned to him and sprayed some leave-in conditioner into your palms and raked it through his hair. You swirled his hair with your fingers to bring his curls back to life with the product.

Josh laid down next to you on his back after discarding the towel and you cuddled yourself into his side.  You reached your hand up to play with the hair at the top of his head and you used the sweat in his hair to make little ringlets of curls with your fingers.

“That was good, hm?” he said in a tired voice. 

“Mhm,” you nodded as you lifted your chin up to kiss him.

He kissed you slow and soft. His hand wrapped around your neck and his thumb rubbed against your jawline lightly and lazily.

“Love you,” he said.

“Love you too,” you replied as you lowered your hand and placed your head down on his chest where you fell asleep for the night.

You ran your hands down to his chest and gave him a peck before he turned around on his heels and left your bedroom.

You finished getting ready for the day, threw in a load of laundry and made your way out to the living area to see Josh in the kitchen cooking over the stove. 

As you walked towards the kitchen, your heart broke at the sight of his suitcase packed and ready to go by the front door. 

“Don’t even think about it,” he said as he plated the food and walked over to you, handing you a plate and setting his own down on the island. 

The two of you ate and enjoyed what was left of the day together. You watched TV and continued the laundry as he did some last minute packing.

He was in the bathroom when the dryer chimed, signaling the clothes in there were ready to be taken out. 

You pulled out the clothes, put them into a fresh laundry basket, and dumped them out on the bed that you’d be sleeping in alone tonight. Amongst the pile of  dark jeans, underwear, and shirts- you spotted the green Big Bear Lake t-shirt and pulled it out. 

You held it up and smiled bittersweetly to yourself before folding it and placing it back down on the bed to begin a pile. You grabbed another one of Josh’s shirts and began folding it when you paused and looked down at the green shirt again. 

You picked up the shirt and walked over to your dresser. You sprayed a hint of your perfume on it, left your bedroom, and headed towards Josh's suitcases by the front door. You opened the zipper of one of the bags and carefully laid the shirt over his already packed clothes. You zipped the suitcase back up and looked over your shoulder to see him standing in the living room with his phone in his hand.

“My Uber will be here in five minutes,” he sighed.

“Five minutes?” you said, walking over to him and pulling him close. 

He nodded, closed his eyes, pulled you closer to him, and kissed your cheek. 

He rested his chin on your shoulder, savoring his last few moments with you, and replaying the morning you spent together in his head just as you replayed last night in yours.

Songs:

The Black Keys: Wild Child

Jonas Brothers: Five More Minutes

Author’s Note: Thanks to Emmy and Erica- the two most psychotic, insufferable, and annoying Josh laners I know. I love you both deeply. I hope I did your man well. 

Thanks to (Josh lane) Stef for the edits and advice. Love you, Mama.

Also, this is my first smut so be nice. I made it subtle, not full blown smut. Sorry if you wanted more. Let me know all your thoughts and reactions in my ask or the replies.

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part Three

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2k

Playlist | Masterlist

Friday crawled by at a snail’s pace. You normally hated Fridays. The campus was always buzzing with so much activity on the weekends, and it made it hard for you to focus on your studies. Saturday and Sunday were the days you would reserve for working on big projects, but it was difficult sometimes when every other dorm room in a 100-foot radius was blasting music. Part of you felt like a grumpy old man, wanting to go bang on doors and shout turn it down! A smaller, quieter part of you was envious of those who had the time, and friends, to party.

You dragged yourself over to the dining hall after class, your mind filled with thoughts of the party you’d be going to tomorrow. It gave you butterflies to think about it. Meeting new people wasn’t something you were great at, nor enjoyed, and big parties were far from your favorite thing. You stared at the sky, the clouds brushed a gentle pink as the sun set, and wondered if it was too late to cancel.

The dining hall was something you typically avoided if you could help it, preferring your microwaved noodles over any of the slop they served there, but you’d been a bit burnt out on the styrofoam-y taste of chicken-flavored cup noodles lately. You managed to find a quiet corner, and sat down with a tray of the few things in the place that looked edible.

Across the room, you watched a group of jock-type guys make their way in, shoving each other and laughing. One of them locked eyes with you, and you quickly turned your head away and pulled out your phone, opening whatever app came up first, trying to look busy. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone making their way directly to where you were sitting. You’d been hit on at this god-forsaken place more than once, and it appeared it was about to happen again. You sighed, and turned your eyes up to the potential suitor.

You blinked a few times. Of course it was Sam. Why did it always have to be Sam?

“Hey!” He called.

You gave him a wave and a small smile, not really in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to eat in peace, but that would have to wait, as he pulled out the chair across from you, dropping his tray onto the table and sitting down.

“I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I don’t usually partake in the unholy abominations they serve here.”

He laughed, holding up a slice of utterly unappetizing pizza he had on his plate. “What, this doesn’t make you hungry?”

“Not exactly.” You picked at what was on your plate, wishing you’d simply settled for noodles tonight.

“You excited for tomorrow?” He asked between bites.

You put on a brave smile, lying through your teeth. “Totally.” You wouldn’t describe your feelings as excited, necessarily. Terrified was more of the word you were looking for.

“It starts at, like, 8. I think. I dunno. I’ll let you know.”

You nodded. That was somewhat good news – you could use the I’m tired excuse after only an hour or two.

“What should I wear?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

“What are you wearing?”

“Oh, I got this, like…vintage sweater thing I wanna wear.” His eyes lit up, clearly excited about it. “It’s blue and brown and it's got all these cool designs on it, and it’s so comfy. I love it.”

You couldn't help but soften up a bit, seeing how excited he got over something as simple as a sweater. He was so enthusiastic when you asked him where he got it, going on a tirade about all of the thrift stores in town while you ate and listened, and he told you all about how they had so many hidden gems if you knew when to look.

“I should go to some of them some time.”

“Absolutely! I’ll take you there!”

He was so sweet sometimes it was almost annoying. “That sounds fun.”

“Yeah! Like, a little thrift store date.”

Cold silence froze the air between you two, his smile fading, your face prickling with a rising blush. Date.

“I mean, not like that. I meant like, friend date. Not date. Just going to thrift stores together. Like friends. Are we friends?”

There it was once again, that rushed, frantic tone he got when he was flustered.

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say back, looking out the window and back to you a few times, silent. You needed a cigarette.

“Well,” you sighed, standing up from the table. “I’m gonna go smoke.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I’ll text you.”

You’d half-expected him to ask to join you, a little surprised he didn’t. Maybe even a bit disappointed. “See you then.”

It was starting to feel like you couldn’t have a normal interaction with him. Every time, it was something. Though, seeing him tonight seemed to wash some of your worries away. He was kind, and from what you knew about him, he seemed like a good companion to have at a party of strangers.

Sleep came easily that night, thankfully. You drifted off peacefully, finally exhausted from the week before. And in your dreams, you found yourself in a familiar place. If it was possible to get deja vu in dreams, you were feeling it.

You were at the top of a skyscraper in some city you didn't recognize, the wind blowing hard enough to throw you off the edge, but you didn't move. The sky was clear and full of stars, galaxies streaking across the blackness and lighting everything in a delicate purple.

Sam was next to you, pointing at the sky, saying words that were carried away on the wind, but somehow you knew he was explaining the stars to you. He would point at a section of sky and it would glow, as if he held dominion over the stars. Like he told them when to shine.

And then, you were in a dorm room, similar to yours but not quite right, the layout was all wrong. You laid on a bed that was too big for a dorm, and just above you, Sam was there. His face hovered just above yours, his hair hanging down to brush the sides of your face. You knew he was going to kiss you, and you welcomed it gladly, your body melting into his. He was made of warmth and light, and love, so much love.

* * *

Your eyes opened to daylight, the dream ending abruptly, leaving you disoriented when you finally came to your senses. These dreams were starting to get ridiculous. He wouldn’t leave your head, even when he wasn't around. You put your mind to work immediately to push any thoughts of him aside, getting out your laptop and starting up your to-do list for the day.

The minutes ticked by slowly, your eyes always watching the clock, waiting for a text from him, dreading the night ahead. I’ll show up to be kind, have one drink, and disappear. Nobody will even notice when I leave, you thought. Though, nothing seemed to be that level of straightforward around Sam.

You successfully kept yourself preoccupied, until you decided to work on your joint project. He’d written quite a bit since the last time you looked at the document. It was endearing, like you were getting a glimpse into a part of him very few people knew. His style was brutish, getting his point across in as few words as possible, with the most blunt language he could muster. It was cute, in a way.

Time seemed to speed up while you occupied yourself, and before you were anywhere near ready to do so, it was finally time to get yourself ready for the party. You did so in silence, working the party over in your mind. It wasn’t too late to cancel. But you couldn’t do that to him. You imagined how his face would fall when you would tell him you couldn’t go anymore, and it broke your heart a bit. You wouldn’t do that to him. Not after that dream you'd had.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, knocking you out of your thoughts. Sam’s name was on the screen.

leaving soon, you ready? he’d sent.

ready when you are

You took one last glance at yourself in the mirror, memories of your dream from the night before washing over you once again. Staring into your own eyes, you willed it away, pushing the memory down to the deepest recesses of your consciousness until it was lost with all the other thoughts that wandered around in there. You could not possibly face him with such a dream still knocking against the forefront of your mind.

When you finally met Sam on the first floor, you were a bit taken aback at just how…nice he looked. He was wearing the sweater he’d told you about, the patterns and colors complimenting his features perfectly. He had on a faded pair of jeans with a few square patches of fabric sewn into them – one with an elephant on it, another with a detailed drawing of a star. His hair was down, flawless and glossy as always. He gave you a toothy grin when he saw you, his eyes briefly running up and down the length of your body.

“You look nice,” he said, the words catching in his throat a bit.

“Same to you,” you replied, trying to keep a level head with his words repeating over and over in your mind.

“Thanks!” He looked down at himself. “I made these myself,” he motioned at the jeans. “Well, I didn't, like, make them, but I found these cool patches and put ‘em on.”

“You can sew?” You asked, a bit surprised.

“Of course I can. My mom taught me when I was a youngin.”

The thought of him sitting in his dorm, delicately sewing patches onto his jeans, was almost too much for you to bear. “Wanna get going?” The daylight had already long faded from the sky, the few stars obscured by a blanket of clouds.

“Absolutely, miss eclipse.”

“Don’t call me that, cornball.”

“Missus eclipse? Ma’am?” He cocked his head to the side.

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip against a smile. The things he said, coming from any other person, wouldn't even solicit a grin from you half the time. But something about him…you couldn’t help but laugh at every one of his jokes. “Let’s go already.”

The two of you made your way out of the hall and out into the night. There was a surprising number of people out tonight – though, that was only your perception. You didn’t leave the dorms much on Saturday nights if you could help it. Too much commotion, too many drunk men. Walking with Sam felt safe, though.

You made light small talk as you walked, discussing things like the coming winter, how you’d heard it was going to be a pretty bad one this year. You’d expected to feel more nervous at this point, but your body and mind both felt rather calm; as calm as they could be in Sam’s presence. There was something about him that radiated calm, like a lit fireplace or the smoke from incense. Walking with him, even in silence, felt right in a way you couldn't place. And between words, you imagined how it would feel to hold his hand as you walked.

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

Blood Moon- D.R.W

This idea came from this photo I found of Vamp!Danny and the fan interaction of Danny saying, "You think I'm scary? I promise I'm not." It's finally October, babes. It's time to get spooky.

This is just a little thing I had to get off my brain while I work on a separate fic but I wanted to give y'all something for this spooky season! No smut warnings here, just clean (bloody, scary, and semi horny) Halloween fun!

Warnings: Blood, hypnosis, and major character death. (Wow, the second thing I've ever written that isn't smut!)

It was fate that brought you up to this castle. It was a song in the wind, the promise of a warm bed. After trudging through the forest, frozen to the bone from the harsh rain that has soaked your clothes and the howl of the storm that's lightning flashes so bright, it could be the middle of the day. So bright but so wrong, it could only be day light, so stark and cold, empty and full of long shadows stretching across the trees in an upside down world under your feet. Maybe this isn't the land you knew. Maybe you were turned around off the path a long time ago. With no moon or stars to guide you home, you follow the light shining through stained glass of a castle on the hill.

It's the only beacon for miles around. You practically crawl up the door, mud covering your shoes and skirts. You don't even feel human, more animalistic than anything. Reduced to only your need to survive, the need for a warm fire.

Your hand slams the elaborate iron door knocker, hands so cold they could shatter like glass. A man rips the door open. His eyes terrify you for a moment, so dark you can only describe them as black, he looks as though you've intruded. No doubt you have, God only knows what time it is. "I-I'm sorry I-I was lost and I just followed the lights to your home, I-" "Dear child, look at the state of you." The man interrupts your nonsensical speech, you look at the rags your clothes have become, "No need to apologize, please, come inside. Let me take care of you." His voice is like velvet.

You nearly fall over your own feet, exhaustion taking hold of you now that you've stopped moving for the first time in miles. The strangers hands catch you, his hands are cold, warmer than yours but cold nonetheless. You look in his eyes, a deep darkness that you can practically see your own reflection like a scrying mirror. His skin is pallid white, dark curls cascading in his face as he's lowered to your level to keep you from falling. His grip on you is tight, your heart is hammering in your chest. He almost snaps out of a trance of sorts before loosening his grip, he looks around behind you before bringing you back to your feet. "You are so weak, let's get you in some warm clothes, I'll draw you a bath."

You sink in the tub, warm water thawing your frozen muscles, a robe is laid on the loveseat across the large bathroom near a vanity. The clawfoot tub with a view from the window that overlooks the castle grounds, acres of forest at the foot of this hill, and the storm rages on outside. The echo of the drips from the water faucet ring across the white marble floors. The house is more like a sprawling castle. It's ages old and seemingly empty. The master of the house is Daniel, the man who brought you in graciously from the cold. He's a strange man but kind and gentle.

You emerge from the water to dry, putting on a very fancy white silk robe. Your clothes are gone, off somewhere most likely to be washed, or replaced entirely, you think. You take the candle that sits burning on the countertop, walking out into the hall. You pad down the hallway, searching for Daniel. You make your way to the large fireplace, warming yourself. You sigh, closing your eyes as you soak in the heat of the fire. It feels like a weight has been lifted from your chest as you relax into your new surroundings.

Two cold hands come to your arms from behind. You nearly jump, turning around in fright only to find Daniel. "Did I startle you?" He asks, grinning at the state of your unrest. You never really noticed what he was wearing earlier. A long dark red velvet coat, black breeches, and strands upon strands of pearls a top of a sheer white linen button-down shirt. He looks so breathtaking, you've never met anyone like him before, and you think you never will again. You chuckle at your reaction. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in the room." You say anxiously. "My apologies, I wanted to ask if you enjoyed your bath." His voice soft and inquiring as he assesses your silk clad form. "I certainly did. Thank you so much, I would have frozen to death out there." You graciously thank your host. Daniel smiles, "Well, I couldn't have that, such a pretty thing out alone in the dark. Who knows what could have happened to you."

You look into his eyes again, they're pitch black, but with the glimmer of the fire, they nearly seem to have a red undertone. Surely not, you think. It's just your mind playing tricks. You take a step back, "I'm sorry, I'm just- you're a little scary." You whisper, a thought that you never meant to utter. His eyes only seem to light up at your comment, not the way you expected him to react. He smirks at your words. "I'm scary? I promise I'm not." Daniel's voice like a song in your ears, the way he smiles, his gentle voice assures.

His hand comes to your cheek, you lean into his palm, eyes growing tired all of a sudden. "My dear, you must be so tired. Come." He takes you by the hand, you follow him, almost as though you were a fawn, following after its kin in the meadow.

He brings you to an elegant chaise, warm velvet under you, inviting you closer. You're so close to him, you hardly think how this man is a stranger to you, how uncomfortable you should be in this state of near undress. It's no way for a lady to behave, but he felt like a flame and you the moth. Like a moon to his celestial body, wanting to be ever closer. My God he is beautiful.

You can feel just how warm you are, a blush in your cheeks, eyes heavy as though you've consumed an entire bottle of wine. "I can see you're tired of running." His voice is soft, deep, and raspy. His hand comes to your hair, pulling you closer. You don't resist. You find a pang of fear deep inside of your heart, one you can nearly wave off, but yet it buzzes like a fly in your mind. You open your eyes to see him looking at you, his eyes scanning your form, "You are divine." He coos, his fingertips grazing your scalp, that feeling in your chest subsides.

You feel as though you're on the brink of sleep, trailing into a dream. Your eyes close, your hand weakly coming to the pearls on his chest, your fingers toying with them as you are entranced by the way he pulls you even closer until your head is resting against his shoulder. He smells like warm spices, pine, with a hint of smoke, so inviting and familiar. His hands bring you onto his lap, you can not help but comply. Your brain feels like it's melting as his hands run down your body. You want him. You want to give him everything. Anything.

His hand comes slowly up your body, and to your cheek, he brings you to face him. You can't resist. You don't want to resist. You look him in his eyes. They're a deep red, almost a cabernet red is the only way to describe them. You're utterly hypnotized by him, you should be afraid, completely terrified of him. But you want to be a part of him. Anything he has to offer, you want to take from him.

"Such a gorgeous creature." His voice dances in your mind, a drunken smile comes to your lips as he brings his hand to your jaw. His thumb is cold as he drags it along your bottom lip, it practically sets you on fire the way he touches you. "All yours." You whisper weakly. Daniel grins, sharp teeth protruding in his smile, fang like teeth you had never seen before now. You know not what this means, but it doesn't matter, not anymore anyway. "All mine." He smiles, eyes delighted as he pulls you to him in a kiss. It's magnetic, your hand tightens around the strands of pearls, as his fingers pull away your robe from your shoulder, your neck exposed as his other hand brings your hair to the side. His tongue grazes along your own, and you want nothing more than to surrender completely to him.

He kisses you one last time before looking at you, "Such a pity." He sighs. You know you should be frightened, screaming and clawing away, but you don't. You don't want to. "This world is far too cruel to beautiful things such as yourself. I'll show you a tender mercy." He rasps.

His arms are so strong they pull you to him, your neck to his lips. His teeth sinking into the artery of your neck. Your hands hold the strand of pearls, your eyes unable to stay open, as your body feels numb, warm and sleepy. You can feel your blood leaving your body, but you don't care. It's not even yours anymore, you want to give it away. To give it to him. You can feel your heart slowing, the pitterpatter turning into a distant drum.

The sound of Daniel's lips against your throat and the burning flame in your neck sounds like a lullaby as you begin to drift off to sleep. His hands feel hot on your skin, you relax into his frame, your hands slowly falling away from the now blood-soaked pearls. Like a lamb in the meadow, drawn away by a wolf.

Daniel kisses your cheek as he withdraws from your garishly bloody neck. He lays your body down against the velvet chaise. He stands above you, your eyes barely staying open to see before you, an angelic evil. Lips covered in your blood, dripping down his throat and on to the pearls you once held. "I told you there was nothing to be afraid of. Now get some rest, don't fight it, my love. Sleep well, angel." Daniel's voice fading as you give into that sweet sleep that's been pulling you in since you entered this place. His hand takes yours, he kisses the top of your hand, "Sweet dreams."

Tag list (I adore you and all of your support, if you have changed your user pls lmk and I'll replace it, or if you'd like to be added, inbox me!)

@tripthelight-fanfic @emsgvf @ageofstardust @dakotadovato @screechesincoherently @gretavankleep37 @strangeh0rizons @capturethechaos @kiszkathecook @jakeslovehandles @depressingdarlin @gretavanfleas @samsurfgreenbass @prophetofthedune @josiee-gvf @doodle417 @readthinkbeme @katie-gvf @lallisonl @toxbexannouncedx @kdarling1 @theweightofjake @greatervanfleet @foxylotus @highladyofasgard @joshkiszkas @badgvf @greta-van-simp @builtbymachine

[basiccortez]

Coming Home From Tour | The Baby Series

series masterlist | main masterlist

synopsis: The boys come home from tour :)

word count: 3.7k

warnings: babies, mentions of sickness, mostly fluff

note: surprise??? I've had this sitting in my drafts since the end of DiG and now that those pictures of Josh are floating around I thought 'heh why not'. This is terrifying, so lets see how it goes:)

JOSH: 

You knew that the moment Josh walked out the door, he was counting down the days until he could come home to you and Oliver. Josh was such a homebody before becoming a partner, now it was even worse. He always found it hard to leave home, spending months on the road, traveling around and playing show after show. He used to call Karen at least once a day, getting updates on things back in Michigan. Now, he was calling you at least twice a day, wanting updates, pictures and videos of his son. 

Oliver was now nine months old and sitting up by himself. You had sent the group chat a video the other day of him banging a toy tambourine on the ground and Josh had never felt so much pride in his life. As much as technology was a blessing, Josh still felt like he was missing out on so much. It was almost daily that Oliver seemed to change or have some new milestone checked off the list. The best thing Josh could do every night while on stage, a million miles away, was to make sure to sing for you and Oliver. And somehow, you both knew that Josh was singing for you. 

You were somewhat privy to what the boys were planning for their last show. Josh hadn’t given you too many details in your last facetime call, but you knew that they wanted to go out with a bang. You were fast asleep by the time they took the stage in California, after having put Oliver down and listened while you played a recording of Josh reading a bedtime story to him. You were doing your morning debrief, which consisted of scrolling through tiktok and twitter while feeding Oliver and drinking tea. 

“Oliver Kiszka, stop putting bananas in your hair,” You scolded the little boy, who just gave you a gummy smile and continued to smash bananas in his brown curls. He for sure had his father’s taste for mischief. You playfully rolled your eyes and placed a couple more pieces of bananas on his highchair tray, “It sounds like half your daddy’s fans are dead this morning. Can you believe that? Can you believe it!?” 

“Ah!” Oliver exclaimed and you laughed. 

“Yes, I know! Crazy man, I tell ya!” You kissed his cheek, “Let’s get you cleaned up, sticky boy,” You had put on a Jethro Tull album, which just so happened to be Oliver and Josh’s favorites. You believe it was more Josh’s favorite but Josh swore that Oliver told him it was his favorite too. You couldn’t help the giggle that arose from your throat as ‘Reasons for Waiting’ started playing. It always sent a delightful shiver down your body, remembering the first time you heard that song and the first time you and Oliver both saw Josh and the boys on stage. 

“What a sight for my eyes,” You sang softly as you wiped your son's cheeks with a damp rag, “To see you in sleep. . .” Oliver had the same big soft brown eyes as his father, and he watched your every move with such intent. You believed that the two were more similar than everyone thought. Everyday you watched Oliver grow, the more you saw the same personality as Josh. 

“Came a thousand miles-” You sang the last line of the verse, when another voice jumped in. 

“Just to catch you smiling.” 

You turned your head around, to see Josh standing in the doorway, his backpack on his shoulders and tired, soft brown eyes looking at you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you ran towards him, and threw your arms around his neck. He grunted as you crashed into him, but held you tightly, breathing in the scent of you. He felt his throat tighten up as he ran his hands soothingly down your back as you cried into his neck. This was the moment he had been waiting for for months. 

“Da!” Oliver’s voice broke them apart, and Josh’s smile beamed like a megawatt light. You stepped out of the way so he could go grab his son. 

“My sweet boy,” Josh held his hands out as the little boy reached for him. He undid the highchair tray and pulled him into his arms. You smiled as Josh placed kisses all over the little boy's face and Oliver giggled. Your two favorite sounds had become Josh’s voice and Oliver’s laughter. 

“My god, he’s gotten so big,” Josh shook his head, running his hand over Oliver’s soft hair. He pressed his lips to the little boy’s forehead, taking a sniff of his hair, “He still smells the same. Like baby powder and lavender. It’s addicting, I had to take one of his blank-” 

“So that’s where Hawky went! You had him!” You were going crazy thinking you left one of Oliver’s blankets at some venue across the country, but it was his father who had it the whole time. 

Josh just shrugged and went back to loving on his son, “I missed you. I missed you. I missed you. I never want to leave you again.” Josh walked to you, and put his free arm around you, pulling you into him. You placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him. Tears brimmed his brown eyes, and you gently cupped his cheek, brushing away a stray tear, “Ever. You’re both going to get so sick and tired of me, you’ll be calling Jake to haul me away.” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” You smiled and Josh pecked your lips.

JAKE: 

He knew it was absolutely insane, but Jake couldn’t wait the next day to fly home with his brothers. Don’t get it wrong, Jake absolutely loved what he did. He thanked Josh nearly every day for deciding to embark on this crazy journey with him. Without Josh, there would be no Greta Van Fleet. Jake’s dream would’ve been just that. . . a dream. He would’ve been just another crazy kid who had true talent that never went anywhere. But Jake’s second dream had come true nearly ten months ago, the dream of becoming a father. 

Dylan Rose Kiszka had been the greatest gift Jake had gotten since he got his first Gibson SG. He was terrified of becoming a father, and he still had his fear. But everyday it evaporated a little bit more seeing Dylan grow. It had torn him to pieces to have to leave her and go out on the road, but you assured him that she wouldn’t want him to stay here and not go share his talent with the world. Every place that they had been, Jake made sure to buy a postcard (or send someone to go get one) so that he could start a scrapbook for her to look back on. You and Dylan had gone to a couple shows, and made sure to get the concert poster and hang it up in her room with the rest of her posters. 

“Are you sure you still want to take this flight?” Ben, their tour manager asked as he dropped Jake off out front of the airport. 

“I can not spend another night away from them,” Jake said, grabbing his backpack. Josh was sitting in the back seat and grabbed his brother’s shoulder, “The parental scolding can come late-” 

“Give her a big kiss from us,” Josh smiled, “I miss my Dyl Pickle.” 

Jake smiled and nodded at his twin, “Thank you.” 

“Now go! Or I'm gonna kick your ass for making us drop you off at 1AM,” Josh pointed towards the door, and Jake quickly scrambled out of the car and ran towards the ticketing counter. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he took a redeye flight, probably when Sam and Danny were still in high school and they had to be back from playing a show to get to monday morning classes. Jake pulled his sweater on and sunglasses, hoping that he could get through this flight without being noticed. Which, luckily he did, and sat down in his seat near the window. It was bittersweet leaving the tour so soon. He would’ve loved to stay and celebrate the end of what felt like the longest tour in history, with his brothers. But he also wanted nothing more to get home to you and his daughter. 

— — — 

Nearly four hours later, Jake had landed back in Nashville. The earth was still and quiet as he got into the car waiting to take him home. His heart started racing and his hands grew clammy. Why was he so nervous? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the fact he’s spent the last five months of his daughter’s life on the road? Would she even know who he is? Yes, they had facetimed and called, and you even spent a week with them on the road, but that was different than this moment. 

He was home. The tour had come to an end. There was no more packing up to wake up in a new city or country. There would be lazy moments just the three of you in the morning while you tended to Dylan and Jake made his famous blueberry pancakes and eggs. There would be sessions at the studio where he would try and get Dylan to walk or maybe even bang some keys on the piano. There would be nights where he’d help get her to bed so that you can relax from spending the day with her.  

The driver pulled up in front of the small craftsman that you inhabited, and Jake thanked him, giving him a tip. He stood there for a moment in front of the house, just taking in the sight of it. It felt like it had been years since he had been there. He looked to his left, at the mailbox that you insisted on painting for your first house. Your hand print, his, and Dylan’s were on it, like the house in UP. A smile broke out on his face as he fished his keys out from his bag and unlocked the door quietly. 

Jake did his best to avoid the creaky parts of the floorboards as he made his way upstairs to the nursery. The mobile above the crib was going, softly playing the melody to ‘Light My Love’, which made Jake’s heart pound in his chest. He walked over to the crib, which he noticed had been lowered and made him a bit sad to think about his little girl growing up. Dylan’s light brown eyes were looking up at the mobile as Jake leaned over the crib. 

“Look at you, wide awake,” Jake smiled and reached in to pick her up. Dylan didn’t stir, as if she knew who Jake was. He grabbed her baby blanket from the rocking chair, and sat down, laying her head on his chest and rocking gently, “You remember me? Remember who I am?” Dylan looked up at him, her quiet way of saying that she did, in fact, know who was holding her. You had told Jake during the last phone call that Dylan had started to become clingy and tearful around people she didn’t know. 

“Kinda expected you to yell at me, or something,” Jake smiled, playing with the curls at the base of her neck, “But you know me, don’t you, baby,” He placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, and she laid her head back against his chest. She sucked gently on her thumb as Jake rubbed her back, “I missed you like the sun misses the moon at night. But there’s no more needing to miss each other. Cause I’m home. We’re all together again.” Jake settled in the chair, letting out a deep breath, as he kicked his feet up on the footstool in front of him. 

He slowly rocked, not only himself, but Dylan back to bed. And a couple hours later, you arose to find both people you loved fast asleep. You walked over to the rocking chair and gently ran your hand over Jake’s hair, kissing his forehead. 

“Welcome home, rockstar,” You whispered.

SAM: 

Raising twins was hard. Raising twins on your own was even harder. You had found a much deeper appreciation for the people of the world who raised babies on their own. You knew that your single parenting life was only lasting for a short period of time, but you were so ready for Sam to be home to help with Harrison and Lennon. The three of you had stayed home the whole tour, you were too anxious about flying with two newborns by yourself to wherever Sam was. Even though you knew that you would have help with the babies, you just weren’t ready to go through all that yet. 

It had been harder than you thought having Sam away. The first month was fairly easy, since the twins were only about three months old. They slept most of the time, and you had Karen around to help you. Then they started getting older and sleep regression had hit. Then on top of sleep regression, came teething. And on top of teething, came sudden weaning (which had hurt more than you were willing to admit). Now Harrison was standing with support and Lennon was crawling, both of them getting into everything. 

The boys had played their last show the other night, and Sam was due to come home today. He told you to not make a big deal out of it, but he should’ve known better than to tell you that. Because you, in fact, were going to make a big deal out of it. You and the twins had survived your first tour. You had gotten through six months of being alone with two Kiszka twins. 

You planned on cleaning the house, picking up all the stray toys that were strewn everywhere. Finishing up the mountain of laundry that you had been ignoring for days. You were going to have Harrison and Lennon make a banner that said ‘Welcome Home’ on it. And cooking Sam’s favorite, breakfast for dinner. But that was all thrown out the window when a cry woke you up at 3AM. 

“Shh, Harrison,” You tried soothing your ten month old. Somehow both the twins woke up sick. Lennon had thrown up all over the second you picked her up, and Harrison had hardly stopped crying since he woke up. This was the one test that you hadn’t gone through while Sam was on tour: the first flu. Lennon was crying in her pack-in-play, having pulled herself up to stand as you ran around the kitchen trying to make a bottle for her. 

“I know, I know,” You sighed, opening up cabinets and looking for the motrin, “You’re just so sad and. . .” You grimaced as you heard the sound of a hiccup followed by a splash, “Your tummy hurts. Mama’s getting you medicine.” You set Harrison down in his high chair, which was hard since he was clinging to your shirt for dear life, “One second baby, gotta help your sister.” 

You pulled away from your son, to grab the bottle and syringe of motrin. You measured out the correct dosage of the liquid, before grabbing the now heated bottle and going to Lennon. Avoiding the vomit that was now on the plastic mat of the pack-in-play, you picked her up and placed her on your hip. She squirmed her head around as you tried to give her the medicine. 

“C’mon, Lenny, it’ll make you feel better,” You tried convincing her. But if there was one thing about these Kiszka twins, it was that they were smart, “It tastes so yummy, see momma tries,” You putthe syringe on your lip, “Now baby tries!” Lennon shook her head and wailed even louder, if that was possible, “Lennon May, it’s good for you!” She shook her head around again, and you could feel the frustration starting to settle in. You took a deep breath, ready to try and give it to her again when a voice came in from behind you. 

“Oh is the baby sad?” Sam’s voice was like a breath of fresh air as you sighed and closed your eyes. You turned to face him, near tears as he walked to you. You handed him Lennon, and he gently squashed her, taking the syringe of motrin from you, “My dear, sweet, girl, you’re so sad. Why? Why is my baby sad?” 

“Both of them have a cold,” You said and went to pick up Harrison, “I’m sorry. This isn’t the welcome home you deserve. I had a plan with a clean house, balloons, and a cooked meal cause I know you’ve been eating nothing but-” 

“As much as all that sounds great,” Sam said, as he finished giving Lennon her medicine, and set the syringe back down, “I would think something is even more wrong if I came home to a clean house and dinner on the table.” 

“But you-” 

“But I, nothing,” Sam smiled and looked at you, “If I wanted nice and quiet I would’ve gone to my parents. I want loud and chaos. I want to spend the day with my twins, sick or healthy.” 

“But Sam, you-” 

“Get to cuddle my babies back to health? Why yes, I do,” Sam said, and kissed Lennon’s cheek. He walked over to you and placed a kiss on your lips, “This is the best welcome home I could ever have.” 

“I’m covered in baby puke and haven’t washed my hair in four days,” You pouted. 

“And you look so beautiful. What is a better welcome home than my girl, and my babies? Nothing,” Sam said, and grabbed your hand, “Now come on, I want cuddles and Bluey.”

You giggled and followed him into the living room. You sat down on the couch, each of you holding a twin in your arms, as you grabbed the remote and went to all the recorded episodes of Bluey. You found one that seemed to be the twins favorites and settled in next to your baby daddy, as he sang along to the intro song.

DANNY: 

Danny sighed as he walked into the house, quietly kicking off his shoes. It was late when they had gotten in and unloaded equipment from the bus. He had sent you a text not to wait up, that he would probably be home late. He didn’t want to come home after you and Jude went to bed, wanting to spend his first night home from a long tour with you and him. But, he also didn’t want you staying up late past Jude’s bedtime either. 

Jude was almost one, and Danny felt like he had missed most of his life already. There were milestones that Danny had missed due to being on the road, or being at the studio. He hated it. You had told him over and over again that it was okay, that Jude wouldn’t even know the difference if Danny was there or not. It still didn’t help Danny feel any better. 

The house looked pretty much the same as he had left it a couple weeks ago, but there were a few more toys laying around which was curtesy of Jude Francis. Danny picked up a couple of them, putting them in the basket by the fireplace where you kept them. He found a sticky note on the mantle that said you left him dinner in the microwave. 

“Always one step ahead,” Danny whispered, and picked up the note, making sure to place it with the others he kept from you. 

He moved around the kitchen quietly as he warmed up the plate of food you had left for him. He smiled at the new picture on the fridge that looked like Jude had drawn at daycare. The front of their fridge had become covered in pictures of Jude and them, pictures Jude had scribbled at daycare, or projects they had him do. Danny cherished every single picture like it was a masterpiece. While Danny was away, you made sure to facetime him as you put the new picture on the fridge and cheered for Jude as you did so. 

When Danny was done eating, he walked up the stairs quietly, looking at the various family pictures that littered the walls as he walked to the bedroom. He smiled at your sleeping frame as he moved around in the half lit room, taking off his clothes and putting on something more comfortable. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, throwing his hair up into a bun. He walked over to you, and gently ran his hand over your hair, and leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek. 

You moved slightly at the feeling of his body, and gave him a sleepy smile, “Mm, welcome home, baby.” 

“Glad to be home, honey,” Danny whispered and leaned back down to kiss your lips, “How was your day?” 

“Good. Jude drew a new picture at daycare.” 

“I saw. Might need him to draw my new base drum cover.” 

You let out a tired chuckle, “You eat?” 

“Yeah,” Danny nodded, “Go back to sleep, I’m gonna go check on our boy,” You nodded and Danny kissed your lips once more  before he walked down the hallway to his little boy’s room. 

His heart felt warm as he walked into the room, and could see his son’s sleeping face, with his thumb tucked into his mouth. Jude was fast asleep on his back, small little sighs leaving his mouth as he slept. Danny crept over to his crib, leaning over it as he watched the little boy sleep soundly. Danny watched his chest rise and fall, still scared that he was going to have a lapse in breathing. Jude had finally grown out of his sleep apnea, but it didn’t stop Danny from still being worried about it. 

Danny sighed and leaned his head on his arms, closing them for a second when he heard Jude stir. Danny picked his head up quickly and watched as the little boy moved around, readjusting to get more comfortable, and shifting the soft blanket that covered him. Once Jude was settled back into sleep, a deep sigh leaving his mouth, Danny fixed the baby blanket, slightly tucking him back in. Danny gently patted the back of his head, feeling his soft brown curls, and then leaned in to kiss his head. 

“Goodnight, baby,” Danny said, and left the room, to go lay down next to his wife.

taglist: @seventieswhore @zoelle16 @wildmoonchild906 @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @canyonmirrors @ohitselliana @gretavanfleas @callmebymym @thatcatbsong @gvfvanfleet @bigberkinbagholdfive @caprisunsister @strugglingtodoshit @idk-maddie @Age_of_Kristin @brokenbells11 @kirbishifts @fatefellshortthistime @myfriendtheghost @mylifeisjustafeverdream @shutupdevvie

[crossczeched48]

To Be With You- Chapter 4

Was I Wrong?

You woke to light shining in through the open windows. Your head pounded as you resurfaced from your sleep, changing positions to block the imposing light. As you moved, you felt a hand resting on your hip. Your breath hitched as the events of the night before came back to you. Memories of Danny’s hands resting firmly on you, pressing your chest against him with your lips locked… Dread pooled in your stomach as you weighed the risk of Danny remembering what had happened between you two.

You looked over your shoulder and found him closer to you than you had realized. His face was relaxed in sleep, the worry lines that often showed were invisible. His dark hair was splayed over his pillow and covering part of his broad shoulder. You chose to move onto your back gently to better see him. You lifted his hand gingerly, and tried to set it down in the limited space between you two, but froze when he stirred. His eyes remained closed as he lifted his arm, searching for you again. He rested his hand over your stomach and dragged his finger tips over the hem of your shirt. His touch, lightly brushing the sensitive skin there. Goosebumps erupted over your body. You closed your eyes, willing your breath to be even as his hand paused, afraid of being caught allowing his movement.

Suddenly he gasped beside you, pulling his hand away from you and sitting up. You jumped, and recovered quickly enough to pretend that you had been asleep as well and were unaware of his touches.

Danny pulled his hand to his head blocking the sunlight and squinted his eyes.

“Shit. I’m sorry.” His voice was raspy and low with the morning grog.

You sat up and shielded your own eyes.

“It’s okay.” You shrugged and tried to remember how to act causal.

Danny turned and swung his legs out of bed. He sat at the bedside with his elbows on his thighs, giving you the full view of his back as he collected himself. He leaned forward and retrieved his t-shirt from the floor.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. Your phone lit up, revealing your lock screen; a picture of you and Ronnie doing cartwheels on the beach when everyone had come to visit. You noted the time to be 10:30am. You paused for a moment and looked over your shoulder. Danny was bent over fussing with his bags on his side of the bed, hand clearly attempting to block his morning wood. You looked back to your phone quickly in embarrassment.

Giving Danny a moment to dress, you pressed down your thumb on the screen and watched your screensaver start to play. As you came up from your last cartwheel, Sam and Danny rush into frame. Without warning, both boys had grabbed each of you and ran you to the waves. Danny, of course, had grabbed you. He swung you up bridal style as you laughed and held onto his neck for dear life, yelling that the water was too cold. The live photo ends as all four of you enter the water with a mix of silent laughs and screams. You locked your phone again, returning your gaze to the floor as your anxiety crept into your thoughts.

Danny’s silence behind you unnerved you further. You began to analyze his apology, replaying each motion again and again, “Was the apology just for him waking up like that, or does he remember last night and is upset over what we did?”

Danny came around your side of the bed, headed towards the door. He paused in front of you and gave you a weak smile, “You look like you’re going to throw up.”

You looked up at him in surprise before remembering that he assumed you to be as intoxicated as he was the night prior. You laughed softly and looked back to the ground.

“Yeah, guess we're not 21 anymore.” You teased with a twinge of guilt.

“Oh, Y/N. Come on. We're too young to start saying that,” He laughed and reached his hand out to you, “Let’s go get some water.”

You took his hand and stood, wobbling slightly as you stretched your legs.

Danny dropped your hand and cocked an eyebrow at you. He shook his head with a laugh, “and some Tylenol.”

You both descended the stairs quietly. As you got closer to the kitchen you heard the low murmur of the others who had awoken before you. Sam and Josh sat in the chairs closet to the kitchen heads tilted towards each other in quiet conversation. Both had a wild case of bed head and were nursing two mugs of coffee.

“Morning.” Danny offered them before heading towards the coffee pot. Josh kept his head down and grumbled in response. Sam, however, looked up at you, over the brim of his cup, with a curious expression. Your blood cooled as you quickly averted his knowing gaze and headed in after Danny. Danny had poured two cups of coffee from the pot.

“Two sugar and lots of cream?” He asked you while retrieving the creamer from the refrigerator.

You smiled warmly at this familiar gesture. Despite him being more of a black coffee kind of guy, he had always remembered your order and kept cream on hand at his own house for when you were there.

“Yes, thank you.” You took the mug from him with a nod and headed to your purse, silently finding your bottle of aspirin to pass out to the clearly hungover crew.

Danny, Sammy and Josh moved to the living room couches, chatting quietly. You joined them, leaving the pill bottle and a couple water bottles on the table for them to grab where needed. Danny patted the seat beside him on the couch for you. You smiled politely and sat with him.

Danny turned to you, “So, Josh was just telling us about a bad date he went on recently.”

You laughed and raised your eyebrows at Josh, “Is that so?”

Josh shook his head and up a finger, reaching for the aspirin and taking a couple before continuing, “No, no. THE worst date?” He continued while motioning with his hands.

“For one, it’s secretive. It sucks, I know it does but it’s the way it has to be. Susan is the one who set us up. “ Josh points to Sammy and Sammy nods in recognition of the name, “So we plan to meet up to this bar/ restaurant after we had been talking for a few weeks over text. I let her know I am going to have security with me but not to worry about it, we just have to be discrete.”

You and Danny nod along with the story.

“So I get there first, we find a nice place in the backroom which has a performer on piano. I’m settled in with my back to the door. She gets there, 35 minutes late mind you, the second she gets in the door she goes “Josh! Josh, hi!”

Josh mimics her waving with two hands up over his head like an airport crossing guard. You all laugh.

“I thought she was a fan or something! I turned around and I’m like prepared to say hi and get it over with but no, I look around and it is her. So I come over, say hi. I go to pull out a chair for her, but she asks if it is okay if she takes a picture with me first FOR HER FAN PAGE. Never in the weeks we were talking has she mentioned the fact she runs a fan page. In fact, I remember her specifically telling me she WASN’T a fan which is the only reason I considered going out alone.”

Sam shook his head ad he laughed, “Did you take the picture?”

Josh looked back at Sam with an incredulous look, “Yes, Sam! What else was I going to do? But that isn’t the worst part. Her screen saver…”

Danny laughed, “Oh no…”

Josh throws his hands out to the side, “Wasn’t even me! It was Jake’s ass while he’s bending over on stage. That’s it. I’m done with dating. I can’t do it anymore.”

The three of you howled with laugher as he finished his story.

“What are you guys all screaming about?” Jake entered the living room

Sam recapped the story for Jake, being sure to mention the screensaver being of his “large dump truck.”

You caught Danny out of the corner of your eye looking off out the windows. His hands rested in his lap, wrapped carefully around his mug. He sat almost uncomfortably beside you, elbows tucked in cautiously as not to brush arms with you.

“You fucked up. He never wanted you. He now knows he never wanted you and now you’ve ruined the friendship.” You thought to yourself while trying to slow your breaths.

Conversation around you continued. Micah joined the group, clad in his plaid pajama bottoms and an OG Greta Van Fleet t-shirt. The others spoke of friends joining them later in the evening, planning the itinerary surrounding their arrivals. You felt as if you were listening from underwater, their voices muffled as you drowned yourself in worry.

Sam met your eyes from across the room. He looked between you and Danny quickly and furrowed his brows slightly. You shook your head almost imperceptibly, earning an eyebrow raise from him.

You glanced at Danny out of the corner of your eye and noted his body language. He sat leaning away from you. His mug from earlier was set coffee table, and now was replaced in his phone in his hands. He kept the screen tilted away from you as he typed. You looked back up at Sam for acknowledgment that Danny was being odd, but Sam was already moved on to the next conversation.

“Micah and I were talking about hitting up a beach before we fly out. I was thinking we could take a group out to go do that. Can build a bonfire out there. Bring the guitars.”

“What about you, Daniel?” Sam asked with usual jesting tone.

Danny’s head snapped up, “Oh, yeah sure. Whatever you guys want.” He returned his gaze back to his phone. Sam made eye contact with you again, shooting Danny another suspicious look.

“Well, I think while you guys go do that and prepare for the newcomers, I’m going to go scout the local hiking trails for when Hannah gets here. You want to come with me, Y/N?”

You nodded, pausing only when you saw Danny glance over at you.

“Yeah, I think that sounds good for me. I could go for some fresh air.” You lifted your mug to your lips and watched Danny set his phone down face down on his thigh.

Josh spoke up and pointed to Danny, “We could go for a good bonfire jam session… We could bring the Cajon.”

Danny nodded half heartedly, “Yeah. I think I’ll go with the bonfire.”

You tried to hide your disappointment by taking a long drink from your mug. Sam gave you one less knowing look and stood from his seat.

He recovered quickly, his face growing into his usual grin, “Better get your tennis shoes on then, Y/N. You’re in for a sweat sesh.”

______________

Within 15 minutes you were in the car, driving to a trailhead Sam had found on yelp. You were quieter than normal, anticipating the moment when Sam would ambush you about his clear suspicions.

Sam leaned his seat back and set his phone in the holder. He crossed his arms and gave you a smug, all knowing look.

Finally after giving you a moment to speak up, he broke the ice, “Do you remember when you first admitted to us you we’re seeing someone?”

You shot him a glare. The comment was innocent, but the memory was still painful. You had started talking to someone online in private. It had become more and more obvious to the others until finally during a group hang out, Sam had lead the witch hunt- demanding you give answers. They all expressed hurt that you hadn’t told them for weeks. At 16, you had struggled to put into words why you hadn’t told them. Now as an adult, you had processed the idea that it was nice to have your own world where you didn’t need to explain your feelings and why they were there. You could live them, and nobody could tell you they were wrong. While it was nice to be part of such a large group, it often became hard to have a life of your own separate from their influence.

Sam cleared his throat and continued, “I bring this up, because I was the only one who noticed you acting weird back then. You got quiet. You stopped telling stories. You were on your phone a lot more than normal…” he trailed off, hoping for an acknowledgment that you were following.

You spoke shakily when you did, “And?”

Sam closed his mouth and looked at you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Well, I guess it feels like it’s happening again.” He finished.

You kept your eyes on the road and sighed, answering him in a voice barely above a whisper, “I am not seeing someone this time.”

Sam sat back and looked out the window pensively.

“I’d tell you if I was, Sam. We’re not 16 anymore.” You assured. “That’s not where I’m going with this.” He reached behind his head and adjusted his pony tail, “ It’s Dan-“

You cut him off before he could finish, “Sam, I-“

Sam interrupted you back, smacking his hands lightly on his legs as he went, “Y/N, damn it no. Just let me ask.”

You felt the prickle of tears welling up as you waited for him to swing the executioner’s sword.

“Do you… guys do something?”

Despite thinking you knew what was coming, the shift in question hit you in the chest. You felt your throat tighten as the tears began to crest and fall. You turned on your blinker quickly, pulling over on the side of the secluded road. You closed your eyes and looked down at your lap.

For a moment you considered lying, but the dam broke. You felt your lip tremble as you poured every thought you had had for 10 years. You told him about the times you had thought something were going to happen between you, about the moments you felt like it was destiny for you to be together. You told him about why you had left home to come here. You told him about Kayla and how she had ruined your plans for breaking free. Finally, you approached the night before, leaving out some of the lewd details. Sam sat quietly through it all, his attention never leaving you. By the end, you were trembling, feeling the rush of embarrassment at your confessions.

You stole a glance over at Sam, expecting to find his teasing expression. Instead, his eyes were sad and kind. He met your gaze for a moment before opening the car door and coming around. Reluctantly, you unbuckled your seat belt and opened the door. Sam held his arms out to you. You stood and were embraced in his bony hug.

You felt your tears absorb into his shirt. Quickly, you pulled away; wiping roughly at your cheeks.

Sam leaned back, holding onto your upper arms to steady you, “That’s a lot to hide for 10 years.”

You sat with his words for a moment, sinking back onto your seat.

“Yep. And I was wrong about it all.” You looked down at your shoes, willing your tears to not begin falling again.

Sam shook his head, “I wouldn’t say that.”

You lifted your gaze to meet his. He was frowning, shaking his head at you.

“Listen, I’m his best friend. I can’t say a whole lot, but I can say that I don’t think he has NEVER felt something. There’s always been… something there. You haven’t made that up.”

It was your turn to shake your head, “You saw him this morning, Sam. It was…”

Your words caught in your throat, pinching you.

“Hey, things are weird right now. It’s all… fresh. We have to just be here to remind him who he was apart from her. You said that, right? When we all agreed to come here. She’s been with him for so long, he forgets what life was like without her influence. Don’t give up on him now.”

You nodded, feeling slightly soothed by his encouragement.

“I’m being dumb, you’re right. Maybe today will be good for him. We’ll do our own thing, and he can get some space to think about everything.”

Sam smiled wide, patting you on the shoulder. “That a girl. Now let’s get going. Hannah’s going to be here soon with Rosie. We can see if this trail is going to work out…”

______________

A memory...

Kayla stood in the green room mirror, fixing her hair.

“I don’t know how you haven’t hooked up with one of them.”

Your faced burned as you looked into your makeup bag, preparing for your next class. Theater was your elective class, and before Kayla’s arrival, it had been one of your favorites. Now, you were often grouped together and found yourself subjected to her comments.

“I mean, if I’ve been with 2 out of 4… You’d think you’d have at least tried one of them in all these years.”

You set your mascara down hard on the table, looking over your shoulder at her with contempt.

“It’s not like that, and you know it.”

Kayla shrugged and looked over her shoulder at you. Her face feigned sympathy, but you felt no warmth from the gesture.

“That’s right. Nobody ever likes you like that, right? I know Josh used to talk about your attempts back when we were-“

You stood up from the table abruptly; abandoning your bag. Blood pumped in your ears as went, hearing her soft exhaling laugh following you down the hall.

________________

Sam made good on his promise, working you to the point of exhaustion. You hiked, trailing him and Hannah. Your mind cleared as your body worked. Eventually you found a rhythm, feeling the swell of your lungs matching your gait.

Sam said nothing to Hannah about your previous conversation. He switched quickly into dog dad mode, bending down and petting Rosie as Hannah arrived. Early in the hike, Hannah trailed behind with you- chatting idly about her upcoming tour dates and music. You welcomed the distraction with open arms; questioning not for the first time, if more of your time should be spent with other women. Hannah conversed with you with none of the same weight the others did. She kept things light hearted, and in turn lifted your spirits greatly.

Sam checked on you silently. He would cast a glance back at you covertly. Each time he appeared to have concern hidden in his expression.

You walked deep in thought, thinking of how much Sam had changed since childhood. As a young girl you had promised yourself that you would never share a secret with him again. Here you stood, pouring out your BIGGEST secret to him. And yet, despite the history, you knew he would carry this one to the grave. He had clearly done this for years, watching you and Danny interact. You’d hate to admit it, but telling Sam the truth had lifted the weight off your chest slightly. Instead of feeling suffocated, you felt dangled in midair. Uncertainty surrounded you, but Sam’s interpretation had given you a lifeline. You intended to hold onto this lifeline as long as you could.

On the way back from the hike, Hannah had asked about sleeping arrangements for the newcomers. In a last minute decision, you had driven them to the nearest store to to purchase air mattresses, sheets and an air pump. You found yourself anxiously thinking about the sleeping arrangements, and felt grateful for the option to set up a bed somewhere far from that master bedroom. You all grabbed dinner and supplies before traveling back to the house.

You returned at dusk, and collapsed onto the nearest couch in a huff. Hannah removed Rosie’s leash and set it on the nearest counter. Rosie rushed to you on the couch, licking at your salty face with fervor.

“Oh god, Rosie gross.” You pushed at her playfully, laughing and turning away from the edge of the couch. Sam sank into the chair across from you and called his dog over to him. She sat obediently at his feet, resting her head on his knees and looking up at him. He scratched at head absentmindedly.

“Did you notice the car in the driveway?”

You rolled over and propped yourself up on an elbow. You raised an eyebrow at him in concern. “No?”

Sam continued to pet Rosie, and did not look up to you.

“I think it’s Kayla’s brothers.”

Your stomach did a flip. You leaned yourself back against the couch cushions and laid quietly. At this moment, Hannah returned to the living room with a steaming mug of tea in her hands. She took her seat, severing the conversation between Sam and you.

You stared up at the ceiling. Dread returned to your thoughts, threatening to pull you under. Sam and Hannah continued their conversation, giving you the space you needed to think.

After several minutes, you rose and headed for the shower upstairs. You played scenarios in your head, imagining Kayla singing as Danny played the guitar; her head leaning against his shoulder.

You turned the water on high and hot, stripping off your sweaty clothes and discarding them aggressively to the bathroom floor. The water stung as it touched your skin, you scrambled to adjust, bracing yourself against the shower wall with one hand. You bowed your head, letting the hot water roll from your head, to your shoulders and down your back. You relaxed into the heat, allowing your worries to flow from you slowly.

With your eyes closed, you let your mind wander to the night before. You felt the phantom touches of where his hands had been. How his amble fingers had dig into your skin, kneading your backside as you kissed. You thought of his tongue working with yours in your mouth.

You lifted your hands to your hair, brushing back your bangs and distributing the water throughout the strands. You pulled lightly at your own hair, thinking of how he had quickly found himself there, holding you firmly in place. You leaned into the memories, finding yourself cupping your breast and arching your back slightly as the water hit you.

Embarrassment rushed you, and you reached for the temperature controls to blast yourself with cold water. You had been longing for touch for longer than you cared to admit to anyone. The desire for it went deeper than just the yearning for your best friend.

You had never waited around for Danny by any means. Both in high school and in college, you had your fair share of sexual encounters. Some being quick, one night stands that left you pretending they had never happened, and others being consistent partners. Most recently, you had found yourself drowning in work and school. You rarely made time to meet these needs. When the urges did come- you found yourself reaching for your bedside drawer, or at worse- contacting your douchey downstairs neighbor for a quick fix.

It had been a long time since someone had made you feel like the night before had. Your mind had been blank, focusing only on the feeling between you both. You had moved together as one, blurring the lines between friends and lovers. You had both been running full speed ahead into new territory you had always hoped for but never allowed yourself to work towards.

You turned up the heat once more, reaching for the soap and attempted to scrub away the feelings you were suppressing. “You’ve got to get a fucking grip.” You shook your head as you continued your shower.

Minutes passed slowly as you finished your nightly routine. You found yourself checking your phone fruitlessly as the night grew later. Your sleeping arrangement decision was finalized. You blew up your air mattress in the pool room, setting your bags up in the corner and finding an outlet there to plug in your charger.

You felt a bit like an angsty teenager; finding somewhere to hide and pout, but you could not think of a better alternative. If Kayla did come, you didn’t want to see her. You hoped to get a good nights sleep before packing your things and heading back home.

Part of you sat and hoped that if Danny returned to your room and found you absent from it- there would be a part of him disappointed with the arrangement. You shamed yourself for thinking this (considering his behavior and body language from the morning) but the feeling of hope still rested there in the back of your mind.

You made your bed with fresh sheets, and stole the pillow you had slept with the night before from Danny’s bed. You settled into the mattress, feeling the heaviness in your body from the day of exercise. With one last look at your phone, you felt yourself giving way to sleep.

Ch 5

[obetrolncocktails]

You guys are going through my masterlist today!! If you’re interested, take a look!

Obetrolncocktails Masterlist

Disclaimer: My blog is exclusive to 18+ content. If you are a minor, please do not interact with my blog. You will be blocked. I do not claim to know any of the boys, neither do I necessarily believe that they would do anything I mention or create within my writing in real life. With that being said, Enjoy! My requests are currently open.

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❀ - Fluff ☾ - Angst ◈ - Smut [Minors DNI]

Last updated: 9/3/23

Tucking Hair Behind Ear [Prompt Request] ❀

Always There ❀

When it Hurts You ☾ ◈ | 1 | 2 |

Three Words ❀

Morning Glow ❀

Haze ◈

That's Alright, Mama ◈

Off the Top ◈

Touch ◈❀

Forever Yours ❀

Worry ☾ ❀

Kiszka Creek ❀

If This is It Now ☾

Make Me Your Master | 1 |

Deception. | Masterlist | 5 parts, more TBA.

Ignition ❀ ☾ ◈ |1| 2 | 3 |

For You ☾ ◈ ❀

"I just wanted an easy day with my girlfriend..." [Prompt Request] ☾

Better On Me ◈

Sharp Dressed Man ◈❀| 1 | 2 |

You're Music to My Eyes ❀

Three Knuckles Deep [Prompt Request] ◈

Karma Sutra ☾ ❀ ◈| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Drunk Cooking Distasters [Prompt Request] ❀

"I am not going to stop poking you until..." [Prompt Request] ❀

Reckless [Prompt Request] ❀ ☾

Bitter ❀ ☾ ◈ | 1 | 2 |

Ignition ❀ ☾ ◈ | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

It's Always the Quiet Ones... ◈

Sweat Equity ❀ ◈ | 1 |

Granny Bowler ❀

[gretavangroupie]

Recommendations

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

Jake:

Green Eyed Monster - @builtbybrokenbells

Covet - @jakeyt

Le Morte d'Arthur - @joshym

Until This Is Over - @abeautylives

Cream & Sugar - @sacredthefran

Melodic Memories - @builtbybrokenbells

Come Over - @milkgemini

Valence - @gretavanfleetposts

Imperfect Moments - @abeautylives

Disgrace - @gretavanfleetposts

Lost Boys - @tlexx

The Vanishing - @fleet-of-fiction

Amongst The Wildflowers - @jakeysfallingsky

The Lovers - @age-of-greta

Behind Closed Doors - @anthemofgvf

Decorum and Refinement - @gretavanlace

Rotten Apple - @builtbybrokenbells

Pictures of Time - @farfromthehomelands

Capital Vices - @builtbybrokenbells

Anything for You - @themoreyou-love

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

Bound - @gvfgal

Best Laid Plans - @writingcold

Josh:

It's Never Over - @builtbybrokenbells

Eternal - @readyforthegarden

Honey - @caravelmp3

Endless Summer - @anthemofgvf

Troubled Mind - @britney-gvf

Trip Around the Sun - @abeautylives

The Sex Scene - @fleet-of-fiction

Sam:

Picasso - @builtbybrokenbells

The Moon - @age-of-greta

Karma Sutra - @obetrolncocktails

Pink Lemonade - @garbagevanfleet

Daniel:

Belladonna - @builtbybrokenbells

Emerald Green - @hearts-hunger

Too Late to Go Back - @stardustndreamsofsilver

Four Weddings and A Funeral - @hearts-hunger

Guilty Pleasures - @builtbybrokenbells

Illicit Affairs - @aflame4goinghome

Forbidden Twins:

Cruel Summer - @sacredstarcatcher

Gold Dust Woman - @builtbybrokenbells

[katuschka]

Olalla Chapter Eleven 1/2

Josh Kiszka x f!OC x Jake Kiszka 4.572 words

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.

Warnings (are spoilers): descriptions of injury, mentions of blood and stitches, nightmares, secrets and insincerity, fluff, smut, mutual masturbation, rough sex, hair pulling, very light BDSM (sans BD), and as always, an unhealthy dose of heavy emotions and feelings

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Can I believe you? Can I ever know your mind? Am I handing you mine? Do we both confide? I see it, eat through every word I sow See what you need to, do you doubt it's yours? Now I'm learning the ropes never get this close I've been wounded before Hasn't let me go

Agnieszka, December 22nd, 5:30 pm

“It’s nothing, Neszka.”

How I missed the sound of his voice. Sweet and raspy, like crystallized honey. My grandmother used it to hide the bitter taste of cough drops, but I could always feel it on my tongue anyway. She never fooled me. And neither did he…

It didn’t look like nothing, and he didn’t sound like it was nothing. Even though he tried to smile in a vain attempt to fool me. Still, the result was more like a crooked sneer and it certainly didn’t reach his eyes. Despite his weak reassurance, it only kept me worrying, because that’s exactly how he looked, too: worried… There was also something else in his eyes; something that I couldn’t decipher yet. I gently ran my fingertips across the dark bruise right under the stitched gash. The snowflakes in his hair melted down and fell in tiny droplets on his cheeks. I wiped those as well. He closed his eyes in reaction to my touch and his expression softened momentarily, so I dared to speak again. 

“Don’t lie, Joshua. This looks days old, you have three stitches, and I’m only just learning about this now?! Who did this to you? And why?” 

He opened his eyes again, but didn’t answer and didn’t look at me. Instead, his gaze fell on the malachite pendant that I still wore on a silver chain round my neck, close to my heart. It was a perfect symbol of the kind of love he kept giving me: cleansing, transformative… and toxic. He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw, and I felt his hands slide from my shoulders and down my arms until it was just his fingertips that traced the sharp curves of my elbows. I could barely feel that touch. My questions hung heavy in the air, creating an invisible emotional gap between us, and I couldn’t fully understand why. I hated it, though! This moment wasn’t supposed to be like this. I just wanted to hug him again, while desperately yearning for him to hug me back.

But something was suddenly different. 

I had feared it would be like that eventually… that one day he would no longer give me answers. I had nightmares about it. And now he was slipping away just like he had been in those dreams that kept haunting me. Our “affair” had always been more like a dream anyway. My fairytale man, wrapped in satin and adorned with sparkling gems. My other-worldly prince, written by Brothers Grimm. He kept on bleeding and in return it kept me dreading moments yet to come. 

“Talk to me,” I whispered, still hoping that it was just me being paranoid again. 

And then, out of the blue, he cupped my cheeks and kissed me lightly, the stitches that held his lip together scratching mine. He could have razor blades there and I would not care, because after all those months apart, my baby kissed me again. I shivered, and as if on cue, he ran his finger through my hair, cradling my skull like the finest china. My body felt light. Then he finally spoke. 

“We had a fight… me and Jake. But hey! I don’t want you to worry about that. It’s ok. It was nasty, but it’s between the two of us.”

I pulled away from his embrace indignantly. “How can I not worry about that? You both assured me you were ok, and… why? What is it this time? Does he also look like this? Is he outside? I want to tal…”

“Shhh, we’re ok. And no, they already left. We’ll see them tomorrow.” 

With that, he grabbed his duffle bag that he had previously dropped on the floor – a clear indication that he wanted me to drop the subject, but I wouldn’t give up so easily. I felt like there was still more of what he was not telling me. We all had completely different plans just a few hours ago, so whatever was going on, it definitely didn’t seem like they were ok. “But the dinner, Joshua…” 

I could tell he sensed my growing unease, because he frowned. “Relax, Olalla. It’s just a last-minute change of plans. We’re all awfully tired, and especially Lisa. She’s not used to transatlantic jetlags, and the final drive really took its toll.”

I couldn’t argue with that. Those cute, tiny wrinkles that often appeared around his eyes when he got tired were now more pronounced than ever. He offered me his hand and smiled again, even though it must have been painful, and together we went upstairs. 

“You must be hungry, though,” I said when we entered my living room. 

“Yeah…a bit, but I’m really craving a hot shower now.” He put his bag down and took off his down jacket and I immediately hugged him from behind, making him huff and grimace over his shoulder at me. “Ugh, no darling, I stink!”

“No, you don’t,” I chuckled and mumbled with my face buried in the soft fabric of his woolen hoodie while he stroked my arms that were firmly wrapped around his chest. He smelled like cozy winter evenings spent by the stove after long, adventurous days; his own musk mixed with a whiff of cinnamon and vanilla and pine wood. I could spend hours just standing there like that, but his stomach suddenly rumbled loudly, making us both cackle again. “But how about you just go take that shower and I’ll run downstairs to prepare us some savory stuffed toasts in the meantime, hm? Maybe even tomato salad?”

“With sour cream and spring onions?” he crooned softly.

“Absolutely.” I whispered in his ear. I loved how he always sounded like a small kid when we talked about food, and I was always ready to give and make him everything he wanted, even if it meant to spend hours in the kitchen. “And then we can pretend to watch tv…”

“Pretending to watch tv with you is my favorite pastime,” he smiled softly with a mischievous glint in his eyes, before his face twisted in pain again as the lip stretched too much. “I’m sorry I can’t kiss you properly.” 

And you refuse to tell me why…

I decided not to push it. Instead, I just kissed his cheek and excused myself. There were things I refused to tell him, too…

When I came back from the main kitchen with a tray full of munchies, I found him sprawled across my bed, lying on his stomach and already fast asleep. He was almost naked, safe for one towel still wrapped around his head and another one already just haphazardly draped over his butt. My heart melted at the sight, so delightfully domestic and bohemian at the same time, but the nasty creature living deep inside me wanted me to wallow in unjustified disappointment. I always hated that self-centered bitch that kept poisoning my thoughts. The fact that he was here with me should have been enough… and yet I still felt like it was not. 

The feeling came with old questions, ones that I had been trying to disregard ever since they left by the end of September and his sweet kisses and incessant babbling about life having no rules could no longer distract my mind. What now? Am I enough? Does he want me to be his life or just a vacation? Those thoughts had been relatively easy to ignore while I had something to look forward to, and him coming back for Christmas was a chapter yet to be read. I banished and locked those thoughts somewhere at the back of my head, where they kept haunting me at the dead of night, but my days were filled with childish anticipation. 

He was finally here, in flesh and blood, and as I watched his back rise and fall peacefully, I could feel the charm slowly evaporate in the air, but I was not yet ready to admit that. Two more weeks, and then what? 

Careful not to wake him, gently freed him from those damp towels, before I covered those perfect ass cheeks with a spare blanket from my closet as he was lying on top of mine, looking like an angel that fell too hard. Pale, beaten and once again so awfully thin. 

I sat on the edge of the bed and stroked those damp curls for a while, deliberately avoiding the already barely visible scar that still made my heart skip a beat everytime I saw it, before concluding that it would be best to just let him sleep. I checked the old clock on the wall; it was only 7, but it already felt like midnight. 

There was no room for me on that bed. I turned off the light, closed the door carefully and spent the rest of the evening on my couch, eating my toast and trying to keep my mind occupied with my favourite book, which proved nearly impossible. The unshakeable restlessness deep within my chest only made me re-read the same paragraph over and over again, until the words became blurry and the wind on top of the mountain kept turning the pages and my fingers, too numb with cold, could no longer hold the large, leather-bound volume. It slipped from my grasp and fell down the slope, releasing a roaring avalanche that buried the whole town under snow, all because I wanted the story to come true. The sun came up then, burning the remaining debris to a cinder. I watched the destruction from above and I cried and cried, with my eyes fixed on the crimson sky, until I heard those voices calling me again.

Olalla…

Neszka…

VEELA…

“Olalla! Babe! Wake up, honey!”

His real voice finally roused me. I opened my eyes, disoriented, and flinched lightly when I saw Joshua hovering above me, his expression a mixture of tenderness and worry. “What happened?” I croaked, with my throat parched and hurting. 

“Well, you tell me. I woke up in the dark, hearing your cries coming from… here.” He crouched down and cupped my wet and puffy face, looking just as confused as I felt. “I’m sorry I fell asleep like that, but what are you doing here? It’s nearly morning. And why the hell are you crying?” Before I could even respond, he looked around hastily and with a strange, alarmed expression on his face, as if searching for something. That startled me too, as all those feelings from my dream still resonated deep within me. I tried to sit up, perhaps too fast, and my vision blurred before everything went dark for a split second and I was only vaguely aware of grabbing at Joshua’s shoulder to steady myself. That brought his attention back to me. “It was just a nightmare,” I breathed out, still hyperventilating, but getting better already. 

he frowned and grabbed my hands in his, while studying my face intently. “I figured… but babe! Bad dreams shouldn’t affect you this much! Does this happen often?” My silence only confirmed that they do, and he continued: “What are they about? When did you start having them?”

I couldn’t tell him the truth... 

The truth was confusing and scary. 

“It’s ok.” I said instead.

“I don’t think it’s ok. You’re shivering. And your hands are awfully cold!” 

“And you’re completely naked,” I pointed out the obvious, partly because I saw his dick in its full glory for the first time in months and it seemed almost comical in that particular situation, and partly because it allowed me to change the subject. Successfully, I should add, because he forgot about my shaking hands in an instant…

“Don’t act like you’ve never seen those jewels before,” he retorted playfully, quasi offended by my blunt comment (and stare). 

“Oh I’ve seen them before, but they never fail to dazzle me,” I continued to play along. “You are very obviously not cold.” His eyes widened momentarily, but I knew too well that his light-minded ego would always prevail when stroked. Humble and vain at the same time, Joshua loved flattery and admiration, even though it usually made him blush. 

And I wished I could speak just from my own experience, but it was rather an acquired knowledge and my very first attempt to use it to my advantage. I couldn’t understand why I suddenly felt so annoyed by the sheer fact that it worked…

“Perfect answer, darling. Ten out of ten,” he would have grinned if he could; instead, I watched his nostrils flare as he tried to keep a straight face. “Now come to bed with me. Lemme share some of that heat with you.” He stood up and offered me his hand to help me on my feet. 

“You go ahead, I need to use the bathroom first.” I stroked his shoulder reassuringly with the other hand as I tried to move past him, but he wouldn’t let me go. 

“Are you sure you’re ok?” 

I assured him that I was. I just needed to be alone for a second…

The black of the night turned to blue when I finally climbed into bed, naked and freezing. Cold showers often helped me get the echoes of my nightmares out of my head during waking hours. Joshua couldn’t help me with them and there was no way I could possibly let him… because I couldn’t even tell him. The worst part was that even though I did all I could to avoid thinking about them, they were much more than just echoes from the very start, evolving and transforming over time. Watching his bruised face filled me with complex emotions I could not yet fully comprehend. We were all playing a dangerous game. If anyone asked me at that moment what I really wanted, I’d choke on the response. I didn’t really know. The only thing I knew for sure at that moment was that I needed to feel him close to me. That was all that mattered; that was what caused all the mess in the first place. 

Joshua lay sprawled on my bed with familiar ease, like he’d always belonged there. He didn’t stir when I entered the room, seemingly asleep again, and I cursed myself for letting him wait for too long again. I slid under the blanket and tentatively touched the hot skin on his chest. I ran my palm across his ribcage and felt it slowly rise with one long and deliberate intake of breath. “Hey,” he whispered sleepily. 

I finally laid my head right next to his and relaxed for a bit, just taking in the serenity of the moment. It felt like we had to rediscover and relearn each other again, but that was ok. My grip on his warm, dry flesh slowly loosened and my fingers slid down onto his belly where I let them rest. “Hi…,” I mumbled back. He turned towards me, pulled me closer, and started nuzzling my neck affectionately. 

It always fascinated me how silence changes with light. Every part of the day has its own kind. It could be oppressive and deafening in the middle of the night, only to turn to cotton wool wrapped around your head as the sun came up behind the blanket of thick clouds. Especially when those thick clouds keep on falling from the sky to cover the land with a glimmering white blanket. 

It’s also the time when the most intimate moments are shared, because it feels like you have all the time in the world. All the impatience I felt just hours ago was suddenly gone. He dozed off again after a while and I let him. We just lay there next to each other in the muffled silence with our shoulders pressed together and his hand in mine. My mind cleared momentarily and I knew – above everything else – that I truly loved him. 

“Kocham cię,” I whispered again, just like I did months ago when we were lying below the starry sky. It wasn’t meant for his ears back then. I told it to the heavens, like a confession. I was now telling it to the spirits that lived in the snow-covered woods. 

“You said this before. What does it mean?” 

His low voice startled me, making me flinch. I turned my head quickly towards him, only to see his open eyes staring back at me with an amiable curiosity. They looked almost black in the dim morning light. “I.. I did, but I thought you were sleeping, and… you remember?” 

“It took me more than a week to recollect everything that happened prior to the fall, but yes, I remember. A lot of it felt more like a dream though, covered with this strange haze an’all, and I often thought that maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me. But you said that, didn’t you. It was real...” 

“I did…,” I breathed out croakily. “Yes, it was real.” 

“So, what does it mean, babe?”

“Oh Joshua…” I started crying and immediately cursed myself for it. I had told him that I loved him a few times before, so this shouldn’t feel like such a big deal, but I felt overwhelmed anyway. His brows furrowed with worry and alarm, and he cupped my cheeks tenderly. 

“Hey, babe, what’s going on? Did I say something wrong? Or… is it bad?” 

“No, it’s not bad. It means I love you and I said that when I was certain and in peace with the fact that you never would. And you weren’t supposed to hear it. Or understand… I’m sorry. This is stupid. And I keep acting like an idiot! Why am I always like this?” I sniffed and took a deep breath, struggling to calm down while he kept on scrutinizing my face with concern still etched on his. 

“But I do! I do love you. That’s why I’m here, Neszka. You know that, right?” He snuggled up to me and pulled me even closer, pressing his naked chest to mine. “And you’re not an idiot. If anything, I think I behaved like one last night. I’m sorry.” 

“No, I’m…”

“Shhh… No more talkin’,” he whispered in my ear with his lips almost touching my earlobe and the deliberate slow and warm exhale that followed gave me goosebumps all over my body. The mood shifted immediately and I became acutely aware of the rhythm of his heartbeat. I could feel it quicken in response to my shaky moan when he ran his hand through the hair at the nape of my neck. “I really wish I could kiss you now,” he whispered against my shoulder, sounding a bit crestfallen, so I nipped the right corner of his mouth and then continued to cover his cheek with featherlight pecks before I looked into his eyes again. 

“You can do myriads of other things. But no more talking,” I teased.

“Right!” Joshua almost growled and deliberately tugged at the fistful of my hair, making me shiver again, before he let go and let his hand travel down, his fingers brushing against my hardened nipple. “Are you cold again?” he teased. 

I did not respond to that. At least not verbally. I just arched my by back and let his wandering hand reclaim my body: starting with my chin, then wrapping his long fingers around my neck, and sliding further down through the valley between my tits, across the plains of my spasming belly until he reached the damp crevice between my legs and cursed when he felt me weep all over his fingertips. “Fuck! That’s hot.” 

“Yeah, so you see, I’m not cold.” It was time to reciprocate and I took a similar path. I ran my middle finger down his spine, making him gasp when I didn’t stop where it ended, digging my fingernails into the soft meat around and pulling him closer to me. He was rock hard and pulsating against the flesh of my hip and my heart fluttered with relief. 

I snaked the other hand between us, wrapped my fingers around him and started pumping him slowly, making him hiss and moan. In response, he slid two fingers deep inside me and followed my rhythm. 

It was slow and lazy and overwhelmingly intimate and I watched him watching me. There was no more talking, but we continued to speak without words, searching for hidden thoughts behind each other’s eyes. After a while, I couldn’t take it any longer and I whispered “more” and he nodded. We let go of each other and he motioned to me to turn around. 

It was just like the first time, when he buried his face in my hair the same way he buried his dick inside me, and I was close to losing my mind when he bottomed out and shivered and moaned loudly right into my ear. I reached behind and grabbed him by the nape of his neck, keeping him in place. He was going to sing just for me this time, I’d make sure of it. 

We remained still for a few seconds with our limbs intertwined and I relished in the way he whimpered when I clenched around him. He then moved languidly a few times, hitting my g-spot just right with each stroke with his palm pressing down on my underbelly as if he was trying to feel himself becoming part of me. Claiming me, invading me. It was sexy, but I was far from satisfied. I needed him to obliterate the contents of my head. Violently, if need be. 

“Joshua…,” I panted in between moans.

“Mmm-hm?”

“Fuck my brains out baby, please…”

I heard him exhale with a hiss through his teeth and nose before he pulled out and turned me on my stomach in one swift motion. I whimpered into the pillow in anticipation and gasped a second later when he spread my legs apart with his knees and ran his fingers through my slit, almost possessively. “Ass up,” he demanded hoarsely, and I happily obeyed. 

The teasing bastard kept me waiting then, running his palm up and down my back before he smacked my ass with unforeseen force. “Ye-es,” I breathed out shakily. 

“Yes? Like this?”

“Please…” I needed him to destroy me, to punish me for thoughts he didn’t even know I had; thoughts that always came unwittingly and involuntarily and that once again made me hate myself and question everything I had known about myself or love. 

Because I loved him. I loved him even more than I had ever loved Dominik and that was the reason why I couldn’t stop participating in this madness. 

It was a mad kind of love. So let us be mad…

And he was. Whether it was his own secrets and frustrations seeping through, or just his desire to give me what I wanted, I welcomed it all. I needed to feel the power and I knew he had it in him. I had experienced it before, just like the extreme tenderness that felt mostly undeserved. I needed to be scorched by his inner fire because I knew I deserved it. 

Joshua entered me roughly this time and pulled my mind back into the cool, light blue reality of my room. And then he pulled my hair and I cried out, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of maddening arousal and the feeling of deep satisfaction that came with it. 

He forced me up onto my elbows and then set up a pace that quickly knocked me back on my pillow, so he pulled my arms behind my back and pressed my wrists together above the small of my back. I could hardly move, completely at his mercy as he kept on destroying my cervix until my thighs started to shake violently. 

We were loud. Or god, we were so loud, and I should have felt shame, because the house certainly isn’t soundproof. 

But it only served as a testimony that I belonged to him and he was mine and the rest of the world be damned.  

It seemed to disappear anyway. My brain short circuited and I was able to register just a few sensory perceptions.

The dull ache in my upper arms. 

His sweat dripping on me from above. 

His high-pitched moans and his heavy breath. 

His fingernails digging into the sensitive soft skin of my wrists and lower back. 

The increasingly pleasant feeling deep inside my pussy, until it became almost unbearable and cold shivers ran up my spine. 

I whined, with my whole being hovering somewhere between pleasure and pain, and he let go of my hands. I pulled them up and grabbed the pillow, trying to ignore the sharp pain shooting through my shoulders. He bent down and pressed his cold, damp flesh on my back, while whispering in my ear: “Are you ok?”

I was more than ok. He didn’t slow down, he just let his tender side cover me like a comfort blanket momentarily and at that moment I completely lost it. My whole body stiffened and I cried out as the waves of pleasure washed over me, one after another…and another…and another. 

He came shortly after me. His thrusts became more and more erratic until he suddenly stopped – shivering – and let out a ragged breath. One more sharp intake of breath and then thrusted forcefully into me for one last time and spilled his seed inside me with a high pitched wail. He remained hovering above me for a few more seconds with his forehead pressed in between my shoulder blades. I think I was holding my own breath the whole time.

Then he collapsed next to me, looking content and completely spent. 

I wished I could have stayed in bed with him until midday or even longer. We cuddled for a bit afterwards, but I had my responsibilities in the kitchen, so after a while I reluctantly climbed out of bed, took a quick shower, made myself some coffee and got dressed. When I checked on him to ask what he wanted for breakfast, I saw he had fallen asleep again, looking relaxed and peaceful.

With a heavy heart, but knowing he was ok, I left him there by himself again and went down, because it was already half past eight. 

At around 9:30, my phone chimed. At first I thought it was Joshua, still too lazy to get out of bed. I opened the message with a smile, but it only made my heart skip a beat.

Kuba Starlight: Are you still in bed?

I was peering at the screen for several seconds in disbelief, trying to make sense of it, before I typed a quick answer. 

Veela: Hello to you, too!:/ I mean…huh? And no, I’m already up.

He responded almost immediately. 

Kuba Starlight: Is he?

Veela: Jake, WTF?! Veela: No. He’s still in bed… AND we need to talk, BTW. 

I expected him to type another weird response right away, but he didn’t, so I put the phone down and went back to making perogies. Ten minutes later, I nearly screamed when I saw him standing in the kitchen doorway, his silhouette half obscured by the dim hall behind him. 

“JESUS CHRIST! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Sweet of you to think so highly of me,” he chuckled. “But I’m still just Jake.”

@thewritingbeforesunrise @fleet-of-fiction @writingcold @lvnterninthenight @its-interesting-van-kleep   @takenbythemadness   @edgingthedarkness @myownparadise96   @gvfstuddedmajesty @josh-iamyour-mama @jazzyfigz @tripthelightfantastix @sanguinebats @wetkleenex-gvf @peaceloveunitygvf @kiszkas-canvas @fleetingjake @lizzys-sunflower @hollyco @emojakekiszka @gvfmarge @Dayumclarizzel @lipstickitty @clownstarr @musicislove3389 @i-love-gvf @blankvz @psychedelectable @allof--mylove

[leviathanlazarus]

Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part II

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~4100

Warnings: nothing in this one;)

A/N: Sorry for the delay. My "real job" keeps getting in the way lol. But we're making great progress here regardless...hope you enjoy <3

---

He knew it was stupid beyond stupid, but Sam couldn’t get Danny out of his mind. He couldn’t stop trying to reach out. He kept thinking about how sweetly Danny spoke to him, kissed him, held him, and Sam could only think about wanting more of that. Halloween felt like a dream, not a nightmare, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Danny certainly hadn’t, Sam thought to himself while he reached up to touch his neck. More than a week had passed and there was hardly any physical evidence that anything had happened that night at all. 

Sam, pacing the porch, called Danny’s phone yet again; no answer. When the automated voice urged him to leave a message, he said, “Hey, Danny–guess who? Yeah, I know. Guess I’m crazy. But I really wanna see you again, dude. Don’t leave me hanging.” When he disconnected, he held fiercely onto the hope that that would finally be the message that earned him a response.

Josh broke Sam out of his focus, sauntering out from the front door. “Aren’t you freezing?” he asked, and Sam looked down at his bare arms and bare feet. Then Josh tutted and said, “Why do I even ask?” He paused his steps across the porch, eyes slightly narrowing with curious suspicion at his brother. “Who were you talking to?”

“No one,” Sam said, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Where are you going?”

“Grocery run,” Josh said, jingling his keys. He cocked his head to the side as Sam stood there, restless, chewing on his lip. “You wanna come?”

Sam had absolutely nothing better to do.

Just a few miles away, Danny was pacing his living room, listening to the voicemail. Just hearing Sam’s voice lit a flame inside his heart; Sam saying his name was like some far-off call that reached into his soul. Well, if he had one–he wasn’t so sure he did. If Danny did have a soul, he’d been trying to save it. He hadn’t had a drop of blood since Halloween and he felt restless too, like a caged animal except it was he himself who was keeping him locked in. He couldn't go out. If he went out, he’d just lose it all over again and have to deal with the shame once more. He didn’t have the energy. 

But he also didn’t have the strength to keep away from Sam for much longer, Danny knew that, too. He hadn’t stopped thinking about him hardly at all, feeling so engrossed in his own memories of being able to touch Sam, to kiss him, to hear him speak in real time. But when he thought about the horror in Sam’s eyes as Danny assaulted him and the bruises he’d left on his body, Danny recoiled, alone and tight with that shame that made him feel so evil. 

He felt at a loss. He sat down on the couch and dropped his phone to the side, staring out the window. It was unusually bright outside, the sun not giving way to what would undoubtedly soon become dreary, late-autumn days, and the shimmer of light through the blinds enticed him to get up and make that exit. The overwhelming compulsion to get up and go almost overtook him but instead, Danny picked his phone back up and replayed the voicemail. 

It was pointless for Sam to keep checking his phone but he kept doing it while he trailed behind Josh, who was pushing a cart and perusing the grocery store aisles. Sam really wanted to tell his brothers about Danny but that also seemed pointless when he knew he wouldn’t be able to tell them the whole story. Nothing deterred Josh though, who began pestering Sam about what was up with him as soon as they were bringing everything back to the car. 

“God, just drop it,” Sam said with a huff, squirming away from Josh, who was physically, in addition to verbally, accosting him from the driver’s seat. Sam slapped the frantic little hands away, regretting he’d let Josh pry at all.

“Drop what? You haven’t told me anything,” Josh said, finally bringing his hands back to himself and putting them on the wheel. The car was still in park, however, and Sam glanced at the dashboard wishing his brother would just go already. “What happened on Halloween, Sam?” Josh continued. “You’ve been sulking ever since you randomly disappeared from the club. Were you abducted by aliens or something?”

“No,” Sam replied, indeed quite sulkily, and thought about how hooking up with a super hot, weird, charming vampire was leagues more exciting than being abducted by aliens. Josh just stared at him; the seconds ticked by and Sam cracked. “Fine!” He threw his hands up, smacking them against the roof of the car. “Shit, ow.” He ran them through his hair instead, tilting his head back. “I met someone that night, alright, Josh? I met someone and he’s been ignoring me ever since.”

“He?” Josh echoed, eyebrows raised, face bright with interest. “Oh, now that’s interesting. I’ve never seen you get worked up over a boy before.”

“Yeah, well,” was all Sam could say. Telling Josh the bare bones of the story hadn’t made him feel any better at all. The only thing that would help him feel better, he knew, was seeing Danny again. 

“So it was just like, wham, bam, thank you, Sam?”

Sam scoffed. “He’s not like that. It’s–I guess it’s just complicated.” 

Josh sighed softly and brought his right hand across the console to rest on Sam’s knee. “That is no fun, Sammy. I’m sorry.” Sam appreciated the gesture, the kind touch, but one second more and Josh lifted his hand to put the car into gear. “He might come around,” he told Sam, peering back through the window as he reversed out of the parking space. “You’re not a very easy person to ignore.” 

No, Sam really wasn’t. With evening light creating an orange and gold spill through his windows, Danny poured over every text Sam had sent him since Halloween, then listened to each of the voicemails over again. If he were simply a normal person, Danny would have no issue–he would have called Sam the very next day. He would have taken him out on a real date or just done whatever Sam wanted, because he did want to do whatever Sam wanted. He would have talked with Sam about real things, normal things, and learned more about who he was, not just who he appeared to be. Danny wanted Sam to know who he was too, not just who he appeared to be. Not just the monster who’d hurt him and then tried to cover it up. 

He scrolled back up to the first text Sam had sent him: I know last night was weird as fuck but I still had fun. I don’t know anyone else who’s had sex with a vampire sooo thanks. What are you doing this weekend?

Danny had wanted to tell him nothing, he was doing nothing at all that weekend. But he’d left it alone and Sam had sent him another message two days later: Maybe I’m insane for not leaving you alone? Lol. But I really do wanna hang out again

Being rude, being cold and shutting someone out was not Danny’s style. He desperately wanted to text Sam back, call him back, see him again–but how could he risk it again? He felt as though he could still taste that sweet blood on his tongue. He could still smell the salt and sweat on Sam’s skin. He could feel that soft, satin skin beneath his hands and the tremors around and beneath him as Sam came. Danny wanted that again, no question. But he couldn’t figure out how he could even be in the same room as Sam without losing control again. 

By the end of the night, Danny felt so stir-crazy that he was a little worried he was going to tear through the walls. Fuck it, he decided, he was going to text Sam back. He could try again. It would be okay. He was stronger than his instincts.

I’m really sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. I haven’t had a drink in a while so it might not be a good idea to see each other yet. It was the best he could come up with. 

Sam, trying to ease his woes with a bong, perked up on his bed when his phone lit up, hope still rampant in his heart. He could hardly believe that Danny had finally texted him back, but what did it mean? He hasn’t had a drink in a while? Well, fuck, Sam would take him out for as many drinks as he wanted or bring a whole case of booze over to his place if Danny wanted. But as he began to type, the language actually clicked–Danny hadn’t had blood in a while. Sam had to pause, thinking about that, and maybe it was because he was so stoned or so sick over this boy, but he really didn’t care. He called; Danny, thankfully, answered, and as soon as he did, Sam said: “I can get you any drink you want, Danny.”

“You can’t get me that,” Danny replied. “And, as fucked up as it is, that’s what I need. I won’t be able to keep it together around you if I don’t get that.”

“So,” Sam began, setting his bong aside. “What do you do if you’re not like–eating people?”

Danny actually laughed a little. “I don’t think of it that way. But when I don’t have, yeah, that kind of drink, it’s pretty tough.” Sam heard him sigh. “I’ve tried before to stop completely. I can’t do it.”

It made him a little queasy to ask, but Sam did anyway: “What about like, animals?”

Danny was quick to answer: “No. I won’t do that. I can’t kill an animal.” 

Sam paused for a moment before he dared to ask, “Have you ever killed a person before?” Very stupid to ask over the phone, he quickly realized, but Danny answered anyway.

“No, never. That’s not–that’s just not how I roll,” he told Sam, then took his own brief pause before he added, “But you’re the first person who hasn’t freaked out.”

Sam had a million questions, all the more reason to see Danny in person, so he asked again, and Danny sighed again. 

“I don’t know, Sam,” he said slowly, and Sam felt so tightly wound trying to achieve his goal. “I don’t wanna hurt you again.”

“You won’t,” Sam insisted, knowing he couldn’t predict that. “But even if you do, I–I might like it.” 

“Come on–”

“Seriously, dude,” Sam interrupted, the confession rolling out of him easily with Danny’s voice so low and soft in his ear. “It didn’t all feel good but, shit–a lot of it did. I’m kinda bummed that all the bruises are gone.”

Danny groaned a little and Sam heard him shuffling around. “And I thought I was fucked up.”

“Please, Danny,” Sam begged, begging like he’d never begged before. “I don’t care if you’re more fucked up than I am. I like your face and your voice and your brain and I need to see you again.” He waited in the tense silence, silently then urging Danny to give in.

“Okay,” Danny finally said. “I really wanna see you, too. I have since that night. But I’m–fuck, Sam. I’m afraid.”

Sam stood up, approaching the mirror above his dresser. “You don’t need to be afraid,” he said, inspecting his neck for any trace of that Halloween night, but there was none. “It’ll be fun. What do you wanna do? Where should we go?”

“I really need to get out of here. Maybe we could just drive around or something?”

Sam was hoping for an answer more adjacent to, “Sure, Sam, come over here and I’ll fuck your brains out” but he was going to take whatever he could get. “Okay,” he said, pivoting over to his closet. “Want me to pick you up?”

“Nah, it’s cool. Let me pick you up,” Danny said, sounding like he was also moving around again. “Text me your address.” 

The drive to Sam’s house wasn’t long but it felt like an eternity, and Danny thought he had a fairly good idea of what an eternity felt like. His heart–yes, his still alive, beating heart–fluttered at the sight of Sam waiting for him on the porch, the entire length of his body pressed against a support beam as he faced the street, waiting. Sam’s steps were long too as he made his way to the car, the hardware on his denim jacket and the silver necklace hanging over his chest the only things catching the light above his head. Danny’s mouth, his throat, his skin–everything felt dry, so thirsty, and as soon as the first whiff of Sam’s natural scent hit his nose, he had to roll his window completely down.

“Hi,” Sam said, feeling quite thirsty himself. For being a stoner, he considered himself to have a pretty good memory, but memory had paled in comparison to the real thing, the real vision of Danny right there beside him. He didn’t doubt that Danny really did feel like shit, but there was no tiredness in or around his eyes; no strange pallor, despite what all the media seemed to say about vampires; nothing to deter him or concern him whatsoever. He looked gorgeous even in the faint moonlight, all dark and fierce, sharp angles and powerful masculinity that made Sam feel a little weak in the knees even if he was sitting down.

“Hi,” Danny replied, trying not to breathe too deeply. Even with the window down, letting the brisk autumn air wisp over him, Sam smelled too damn good. He put the car in drive but kept his foot on the brake. “So–where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere,” Sam said. He was all hormones, he knew it too, and by the way Danny kept declining to meet his gaze, he began to wonder if this was actually going to end well for both of them.

It would be better, Danny thought, to go somewhere with lots of people. It might help mask Sam’s scent just a little bit, though it seemed to have not worked out that way when they’d met on Halloween. But he didn’t want to go to a bar or anything and nothing else was open. With absolutely no objective, he got moving with no real destination in mind other than to get far enough to hit the rural back roads and just go until Sam told him to stop. 

“So,” Sam began, watching Danny’s hand fiddle with the stereo knobs, turning up the volume just a bit, just enough for Sam to be able to hear John Lennon singing Norwegian Wood. “What have you been up to? You said you work in a school, right?” Sam wanted to clarify that at least. He couldn’t imagine being around people all day while also being a vampire. 

Danny knew it sounded bizarre. “Yeah. I teach music to little kids, basically,” he told Sam while he turned on his blinker, wheels churning as he turned right, heading away from the city and into the suburbs. “Guitar, drums, ukulele.”

“But how do you do that? Isn’t it like, constant torment?”

“Uh, you know, it’s actually not that bad. I don’t know if you’re aware, but kids actually smell pretty gross.” Danny chuckled, eyes on the dark road. “And if you were gonna ask about the staff, well, the gross kid smell kinda helps to mask the adult smell. So. Yeah.”

“I was wondering that, yeah.” Sam’s eyes followed the road for a moment too, following the straight yellow tracks. “Do you remember what I do?”

“Yeah, I do,” Danny said. “You’re doing an internship for music production. You’re a dog-sitter on the side.” He could remember, because he could remember how Sam had looked as he’d told him the morning after their twisted hookup–all glowy and sweet in soft morning sun, hair fanned out against Danny’s pillow, then that glaring red and purple mess on his neck that tainted the whole picture in Danny’s mind. 

Sam was pleased that Danny did indeed remember. He looked at him through the shadows and said, “Work talk is boring as shit though. I’ve got like, a million questions about what you do outside of work.”

Danny expected as much but through all his prior thinking–stressing–about it, he wasn’t sure he’d come up with any good answers. Still, he told Sam, “Shoot.”

Now that Sam was given the full opportunity, he wasn’t quite sure where to begin; it was the inadvertent flash of teeth in the moonlight that prompted his first question: “How did you become this way? In the movies and shit it’s always being bitten by another vampire first, right?”

Danny shuddered, not only from the cold wind blowing at him but the very vague, foggy memory that lived deep in his mind. It wasn’t even that long ago. It was wild how easy it was to forget. He’d been made to forget. “Yeah, that’s about it,” he told Sam, rolling his window up halfway as the road stretched onward. They were headed toward nowhere, the land beyond and beside becoming more overgrown weeds and tall trees with fewer and fewer houses between. “But to be honest,” he began, dreading showcasing his own ignorance. Weren’t vampires supposed to be super wise? He felt like an idiot. “I don’t really know that much else. Like, yeah, I guess I got some pretty fucking bad luck and someone decided, You know what, I’m having a really shitty day. Let me go ruin this guy’s entire life.”

Sam thought about it for a moment–it really did seem like some shit luck. “Do you remember who did it to you?” 

“No. Some vampires can do this thing–it’s like they can make you forget. Or maybe it’s just the blood loss? I don’t know.” 

“Can you make people forget?” 

“No. Which is why I go out of town when I get–” Danny paused, swallowing, his throat still so dry. “When I get thirsty. Usually, anyway. Halloween was kind of a fluke–it just seemed like the place to be. I knew the risks, I guess, and didn’t care.” 

“Like me,” Sam said, watching Danny’s throat bob with another tight swallow. “I know the risks but I’m still riding shotgun with you in the middle of the night. Guess that makes me a complete and total fucking idiot.” He spoke with affection and saw that Danny heard it, because those lips Sam wanted to kiss again lifted slightly, showing another short-lived view of teeth.

“I can’t bewitch people or anything like that either,” Danny assured him, though he didn’t really think he had to. “So you really are here just because you want to be.”

“So what can you do?” Sam pressed, his curiosity as deep as the black night they continued to drive into. “Can you live forever? That seems to be the biggest thing among vampires, at least ones in the movies and all that.”

“Nope,” Danny replied, leaning forward a bit, peering at the first street sign they’d come across in a while. He could sort of remember driving out this way before but in the dark, it all seemed so mysterious and spooky, which might have been saying a lot for him being a vampire. “I think of just like a disease, honestly. Like, someone infected me and it’s really not cool or fun or magical. It’s just this need to drink people’s blood.” He laughed roughly–it sounded so twisted even he could hardly believe this was his life. “I’m really glad I won’t be living forever like this. That would suck so much.”

“Oh,” was all Sam could think to say then, averting his eyes from Danny’s profile to the side of the road. He said the next statement with unwarranted confidence, hoping to stir up some self-esteem in Danny: “You’ve never killed anyone though. Isn’t that an accomplishment?”

Danny glanced over at Sam. It felt good to be recognized as someone who wasn’t a total monster, but not good enough to completely ease his heart. “I guess so,” was all he could say.

Sam felt gloomy then, processing all of this. So being a vampire really wasn’t glamorous or sexy–it was just something fucked up that happened to someone and they couldn’t control it. Danny calling it a “disease” seemed accurate based on his experience and it made Sam’s heart sink, sympathy making him feel heavy and dark, and he wasn’t sure how to voice it without coming across as pitying. He could only imagine the anguish and turmoil Danny had to deal with each day, especially on the days he couldn’t get what he needed. 

“What if I let you–you know,” Sam began, moving his hands with his words. “I could let you bite me again? If it’d help.” Danny glared at him from the side, his already fierce face darker, more threatening. Surprisingly insulted, Sam deduced, but he left his offer out there anyway. “What? You can’t tell me you really didn’t expect me to offer.”

“I can honestly say I didn’t expect it,” Danny said, hands tightening around the wheel. He could have put it out of his mind enough to get through the night, but now that Sam was straight-up offering himself up like a piece of meat, the resurgence of the, yes, need was incredible. He spoke again, trying to talk himself out of his own desires: “I hurt you before and I don’t wanna do that again. You were so scared and I just kept doing it–it’s not exactly fun for me and it definitely wasn’t fun for you.” 

“Sure, yeah, it was fucking terrifying and I thought I was gonna die,” Sam agreed, keeping his eyes fixed on Danny. “But now I know I’m not. Besides, I like your–hmm. Well, I like your style. Usually I’m the one in charge. It was fun for me to not be in charge for a change.”

“Not being in charge shouldn’t also mean being assaulted.”

Sam sighed softly and looked out the window again, expecting Danny to pull over and do a sudden k-turn to bring him back home. He knew it was wrong to keep going like this but, really, why had Danny relented and seen Sam again at all if he was entirely opposed to everything Sam wanted to give him? He wasn’t a complete idiot. He knew what he was willing to give over. But he still wanted to. 

Danny was genuinely bewildered, though he thought maybe that was idiotic of him. He really couldn’t seduce anyone with magic powers or anything of the sort–Sam had gone back home with him because he’d truly wanted to. Danny had to lure–and, jeez, how he hated that word–people like anyone else. He never felt normal, because he wasn’t, but at the end of the day, almost everything he did was normal. Except for the bad stuff. 

“I like you too much to do that again,” Danny finally said. “I’m trying not to do it at all, as a matter of fact.”

“But you’ll die if you don’t, right?”

Danny groaned at both the statement and the abrupt waft of Sam’s scent when he slowed the car into another turn, the breeze through the window dissipating for a moment. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“How often do you have to do it?”

“It depends,” Danny said while he brought the car back around the way they’d come. This was futile. “It sounds disgusting, but it depends on how good it was. Like, you were good. Really, really fucking good. So that kept me, um, full longer. Like I could probably go a few more days and be fine.” He sighed, glancing over at the natural, casual seductive form that Sam embodied. “It just hurts in the meantime.”

Sam wanted to know more, of course. “What does it feel like?”

“Dry,” Danny quickly answered. “Like my entire fucking system is dry. Not just my mouth and throat, but my organs. Like I’m becoming a goddamn desert.” 

Sam was just as quick with his reply: “I could be your fucking rain, man.” 

Danny stayed silent, evaluating. He wanted to, no doubt about it, and when Sam reached over to put his hand on his thigh, it became even harder to resist.

---

Tagging: @mackalah @sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta

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[abeautylives]

Something About You

a/n: A huge thank you to Stef and Evana for your help and input, I think this is my masterpiece lol

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: 15.5k get comfy

summary: Drawn to you from the moment you met, consumed by you before your first date, he would do anything for you. There’s just something about you.

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, language, drinking, mentions of sex, extreme fluff, deception, explicit sexual content, mentions of oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, a twist, angst, breeding!kink, more fluff, it’s a novel so if I missed anything I’m so sorry

“I dunno Jake, what if they’re on a date?”

“I mean, maybe but… I don’t think so.”

Eyeing them from across the room, Josh takes another sip of his drink as his brother continues to assess the two women in question smiling across the table at each other in a booth.

“I don’t think they’re together, I think they’re just friends. We should just go find out.” Mind made up, the younger twin moves in that direction without waiting for a response.

Josh remains standing alone at the bar, watching Jake introduce himself and work his charm and within moments the two women are laughing with him. How does he do that? When Jake lifts a hand and gestures toward the bar, all three heads turn in Josh’s direction. Typically comfortable under scrutiny, he suddenly feels heat bloom across his cheeks as his brother waves him over.

“There he is, ladies, this is my brother, Josh. Josh this is… Nic? Nic and Y/N. They are not on a date, I asked.”

You’re both laughing again but Josh’s eyes are drawn to you as you lift a hand to him.

“Hey Josh, it’s nice to meet you.” He’s staring blankly at your mouth until Jake, as indiscreetly as humanly possible, nudges him with an elbow prompting him to look into your eyes and take your hand in his. “Do you guys wanna join us?”

They’re both very cute, but this one seems shy compared to the long-haired one that came over first and he hasn’t let go of your hand. His brother nudges him again and he appears to shake out of a trance as the most perfect smile you’ve ever seen stretches across his face, sullied only by a small gap between his two front teeth that somehow works to make it more alluring. Holy shit. You feel your eyes go wide as you drop them to look at Nic, who is also beaming at you as she scoots farther into the booth to make room for Jake. Josh, still holding your hand delicately in his, bends as he lifts it to his lips and presses a light kiss to your fingers.

“It appears that we already are! Are you sure we’re not interrupting?”

Ah, so he does speak. His voice has a similar timbre to Jake’s but their accents are completely different. You turn to him as he settles in next to you, ignoring his question completely. “Didn’t you say you guys are brothers?”

“Ha, yeah, we’re actually twins. Identical.”

“Bullshit.” You and Nic speak in unison and Jake chuckles while Josh just grins.

“We get that a lot,” Jake offers.

They’re easy to talk to, the conversation flows alongside the drinks and when Josh opens up you find that he’s soft-spoken but an animated storyteller. He uses his hands to emphasize his points and you watch them move through the air as he works toward a punchline directed at his twin. You use the moment to take in his profile - his haircut is interesting, shaved tight on the sides while the rest of his head is covered in long fluffy curls, but it leaves his face in full view for you. It’s a really nice face. His eyes, a light amber full of warmth, find you often and they lock onto yours when you’re speaking.

Nic convinces Jake to dance with a level of persuasion only she can achieve but you can still see him insisting that he’s no good at it as they cross the room. He loses the argument as her arms loop around his neck, as soon as their bodies are touching you know he’s done for. She has that effect on men and women alike and you’ve seen this play out before, she wants him and she’ll probably have him. As your gaze lingers on the two of them, you can feel Josh’s on your face.

“So,” he clears his throat, “Y/N, um…” You’re looking at him now as he transitions back into the shy person who had first walked up to your table. This side of him is baffling, he’s really attractive and he has to know that. There’s no obvious explanation for his bashful demeanor.

“Josh, do I make you nervous?” The thought is preposterous to you. Nic is usually the one that leaves strangers speechless or stammering over their words, but now that you’re alone, a distinct light pink has crawled its way over Josh’s nose and cheeks.

“Wow, um, yeah a little? What gave it away?” He finishes with a self-deprecating chuckle that’s charming in a way. “I’m sorry, I swear I’m usually more… normal. You’re just really pretty.” Good one. He’s being truthful though, he usually has no problem talking to… anyone, really. He’d swear he’s typically confident, sometimes even attention-seeking but, “There’s just something about you.”

Hours later you were standing outside the bar waiting for your rides, an Uber for you and yet another brother on the way for the guys, Jake and Nic were tangled with one another and making out right there on the sidewalk. Josh stood in front of you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and an awkward grin on his lips.

“You wanna…?” His eyebrows had quirked up as he nodded his head in their direction.

Smiling back at him and speaking softly, you’d said, “Maybe next time.”

He asked for your number and promised to call.

⏰

Next time proved to be difficult to arrange, you knew it would be but it didn’t deter him. He called, just as he’d promised but your schedule left you little free time and meeting him on one of the rare nights out that you allowed yourself had been serendipitous. The calls became regular occurrences and every night, as exhaustion set in and you’d try to cover a yawn, he’d ask when he could see you again.

“I’m actually free next weekend…” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you're nervous and fidgeting with the bottom hem of your sleep shorts. He’s so easy to communicate with and eager to see you, but you’re already overthinking things and you’ve never even hung out with him one on one. The phone starts ringing against your ear and you pull it away to see a FaceTime call coming in. From Josh. Confused, you click over before considering that you’re laying in bed, freshly showered and makeup free.

“Hey?”

He’s staring at you again, lips hanging slightly open like he’s forgotten what he was going to say. It looks like he’s probably also in bed, sitting against his headboard and while you can’t see too far below where the neckline of his shirt should be, you can tell that it’s absent.

“Josh?”

“Hi, sorry,” he laughs softly, “I just didn’t think you could possibly get even more lovely.”

The warmth of the blush moves up your neck but you can feel it spread through your chest even though you’re brushing off the compliment.

“Really, you’re beautiful. Let me take you out next Saturday. Wine and dine, the whole thing.”

You can feel yourself smiling like an idiot as your head starts to nod in confirmation. “Yeah… yeah, of course. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can pick you up and-“

“No. No, let me meet you there.” Realizing how abruptly you’ve turned him down, you lighten your tone. “After all, I hardly know you. What if you’re a psycho?” When he laughs you let yourself relax into your pillow.

“Like the film? You a Hitchcock fan?” He’s graciously moved on, happy to do things on your terms.

“I’ve actually never seen it.”

Appalled, he makes you promise that you’ll watch it together someday and soon enough you’re holding back a yawn.

“Go to bed, beautiful. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

⏰

“Oh he like likes you.” Nic is sprawled across your bed watching you pull clothes from your closet and toss them haphazardly around your room.

“Nic, he doesn’t even know me.”

“Then why do you care so much about impressing him, hm? You like him too!” Her wide grin, usually contagious, is only serving to set your nerves on edge. “And don’t tell me ‘I don’t even know him’ because that’s BS, you guys literally fall asleep on the phone together every night. You know him, at least a little.”

“Okay, I get it. We know each other. Are you actually gonna help me find something?”

Once she’s standing next to you shuffling through your hangers, you ask if she’s been talking to Jake.

“Here and there. He’s great though, amazing in bed. Did I tell you how big-“

“Yes you told me, thank you. I don’t need another recap.”

“You know what they say about twins.” She’s stopped sifting through your clothes to wag her eyebrows at you. “Just sayin’. I bet he’s working with a hors-“

“Nic!” She wards off a slap from the back of your hand and then holds a dress out to you, wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks with her other hand.

“This one’s perfect. Plus he looks like his favorite color’s green.”

As the hostess leads you to your table, you’re pleased with Nic’s choice. The restaurant’s vibe seems pretty casual and the other guests are dressed in a variety of attire. You feel comfortable, like you’re not standing out at all until your eyes meet Josh’s. As he comes into view you can tell he was already watching and waiting for you, but when he sees you walking in his direction you feel like you’re the only other person in the crowded room.

You’re suddenly ecstatic over Nic’s choice. His mouth is open again but his eyes drop from your face to your feet before they take a slow journey up your body. By the time you make it to the table, they’ve reached your eyes again and he flashes that smile. God I forgot about the smile.

He stands to greet you with a hand placed delicately at the small of your waist and the other grasping one of yours, but then he leans in and places a soft kiss to your cheek. It’s barely a brush of his lips over your skin but you weren’t expecting it, or the way you felt it jolt through your body like crackling electricity. When he pulls away your other hand comes up to place your fingertips to the spot.

“Oh…”

Hands still attached to you, he grins sheepishly with his bottom lip pulled between perfectly straight teeth. “You look… exquisite, really. Beautiful.” He drops his hold on your waist to run his hand through his hair and scratch the back of his head, shy again. “I love your dress.”

“Oh this old thing? Just threw it on.” You make a mental note to thank Nic. Exquisite is not an accolade you think you’ve ever received. He moves around you to pull your chair out and you’re pretty sure you’re hallucinating, or dreaming. Is he even real? When he’s seated across from you, you’re finally able to take in his appearance.

He’s in a white shirt again but this one has a small v at the neckline, and he’s added a long beaded necklace that ends below the edge of the table. You’re positive that ‘you’re one of the prettiest people I’ve ever seen’ is not an appropriate compliment for a grown man with a mustache, but unfortunately when you open your mouth to tell him he looks handsome, a combination of the two escapes.

“You look pretty.” A hand is clasped over your mouth immediately as your face bursts into flames, but a loud bark of laughter causes several heads to turn in his direction before he reigns it in to a silent chuckle that shakes his shoulders. “I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant-“

“No, please don’t apologize.” His smile stretches impossibly, every equally impossibly white tooth on display. “Thank you Y/N, I feel quite pretty right now.”

A waiter appears before you can fumble through another embarrassed apology and Josh orders a bottle of wine after asking what your favorite type is. He gracefully moves past the awkward moment and suggests looking over the menu, and when the waiter returns you’re ready to order.

You quickly find that you’ve covered so much small talk in the hours you’ve spent on the phone, that you pretty much have to dive into big talk. He tells you more about his job, which sounds like a dream more so than work, and you’re enthralled by the way he speaks about making music. When he asks about your life, you’re intentionally vague since your world seems a little boring and insignificant in comparison, but he hangs onto every word.

Hours later, after you’d finished your meal and given up your table to move to the bar, you found yourselves standing outside once again. Leaning against the driver’s side of your car, you watched as Josh slowly moved closer to you and placed his hand on your waist. This time when he leaned in, you’d been hoping for it and when he kissed your cheek and pulled away, you pulled him back in and pressed your lips to his.

He’d seemed surprised for just a second, but quickly his other hand was on you and he took half a step closer. Your bodies didn’t meet but you were sure that you were feeling exactly what they describe in books and cheesy movies. You could feel it across every inch of your skin, in every cell.

Fireworks.

You felt his lips break from yours but they found you again, two more gentle touches of your skin against his before he moved away to look at you.

“I should be driving you home.” A hand had found the side of your face and settled back at the base of your neck, keeping you so close that his breath, lightly scented of grapes, had fallen over your still-tingling lips.

“Maybe next time.”

⏰

“Wait, so you didn’t fuck him?”

“Hey! You’re on speaker…”

“Sorryyy. But why not? Do you not like him anymore?”

“Nic, have you even been listening? I like him a lot. He’s like… kind of perfect, actually.” You can feel yourself making moony eyes at nothing in particular as you say it.

“So what’s the issue? Are you gonna fu- sorry, do it next time?”

Next time. Next time was already tentatively scheduled for two weekends from now, as long as nothing fell through on your end.

“I don’t know, I’m not going to plan getting laid in advance. If it feels right then, we’ll see I guess.”

“Y/N you plan your entire life in advance. And I know for a scientific fact that you haven’t gotten any since that guy… shit I don’t even remember his name. That guy you dated for like two months. That was over a year ago!”

“Yeah and I fu- I slept with him after our second date. See how well that worked out?”

“It’s not your vagina’s fault that he was an asshole. Sorry, but he was. And Josh has already been around for weeks and your date was ‘kind of perfect’ as I recall. I mean, how did he react when you told him about-“

“Ihaven’ttoldhim.” It comes out as one huff of air.

“Oh. Ohhhh no.”

“I just like him so much.” Nic can hear the sorrowful frown in your voice. “I didn’t want to ruin it… yet.”

“You need to tell him. No matter the outcome, you need to tell him. I dunno babe, I feel like Josh might surprise you.”

⏰

You let him pick you up in front of your house. Waiting at the window to see him pull up, you didn’t give him the chance to get out of the car and come to your door but he didn’t seem to mind when you hopped into his Jeep and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“I would’ve opened the door for you, ya know.”

“I’m absolutely sure that you would have, but I’m a big girl. I can handle a little car door.” He lifts the corner of his mouth in a lopsided grin as he puts it in reverse and backs out of your driveway. “So where are we going?”

“Ah, to the movies of course.”

The movies ends up being a completely empty theater. There were plenty of people in the lobby when you’d entered, but you and Josh were escorted to an auditorium where he chose seats near the top in the middle. When no other patrons trickled in after about five minutes, you turned to look at him and found mischief in his eyes.

“Josh… what’s going on here?” You circle a finger in the air, gesturing to the empty room. “What are we even seeing?”

“An American classic, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of it before lacing your fingers together and resting them on his thigh. He offers no further information but as if on cue, the lights go down and you can actually hear film as it starts rolling. The screen in front of you is lit but turns black before white letters appear in the center.

PSYCHO

Snapping your head to face him again, you find the mischief is still alight in his eyes and in the grin stretching across his mouth.

“How did you…?” Your whisper trails off but he understands your confusion.

“You don’t have to whisper, really. No one else will be joining us.” He takes in the way your jaw has dropped slightly and your eyebrows are tilted upward. “I know the owner. I put in a special request, told him my girl has never seen the greatest psychological thriller of the 20th century.”

My girl. His girl.

Stunned into silence, all you can do is return his grin and snuggle into his side as the black and white film continues to roll. Familiar with the premise of the movie but having never seen it, you were appropriately shocked by the twist revealed about halfway through, much to Josh’s delight. With your head lifted from its place on his shoulder, he reaches across himself to press the tips of his fingers into your jaw and turn you to him. You feel it again when his lips, soft and searching, meet yours. The tingle spreads through your body and lands distinctly between your thighs. When you cross them in Josh’s direction, he moves his hand from your jaw to rest just above your knee as your lips separate. He watches it move higher until his fingers are squeezing the muscle and you can feel the heat radiating from your own chest.

“Come home with me when the movie’s over.”

The heat turns into a flush of slight panic and he sees it flit across your features as you pull away.

“Sorry, no, it’s no pressure. Please don’t look like that.” The panic must be more obvious than you’d hoped as you try to fix your expression into something resembling poise and confidence. “I just- shit, Y/N I’m sorry. I thought you’d want to, I thought we were-“

He’s starting to ramble but his eyes widen when you reach a hand up to cup his cheek and you run your thumb across his lips.

“Next time. Is that okay?”

“Don’t ask me that. Anything you want is okay, more than okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

The drive back to your house was comfortably silent, music playing softly through the speakers as Josh drummed his fingers against the top of the steering wheel. His other hand was in your lap, wrapped around yours. When he pulled into the driveway and put the Jeep in park, he tightened his hold on your hand before telling you to stay in the car. You watched him get out and walk around to open your door, and laughed as you hopped down into his open arms that wrapped around you as your feet hit the pavement.

At your front door, nervous that he was going to ask to come in, you’d fidgeted with the edges along the zipper of his jacket that your hands had made their way to. His own were resting at your hips as he studied your face in the glow from the porch light.

“Thank you, Josh. That was really special, and very cool. No one’s ever taken me to an exclusive private screening before.” You’d giggled as he watched your lips move in silence. “Aren’t you gonna kiss me goodnight?”

“Oh I absolutely am, after you agree to see me again. Sooner, this time?”

“I’ll try my best for sooner, maybe next weekend. I will definitely let you know. Tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it…” He’d inched closer to you, pressed his body to yours for the first time as he pulled you against him.

“Please kiss me.”

And he did. Once your lips were touching he changed his hold on you, slid a hand up your back until it was tangled in your hair and you were gripping his jacket. He hummed into the kiss, the sound pulsed through your bloodstream and you’d let a quiet moan slip out and over his skin. You felt his hand turn into a fist full of your hair before his tongue slid out and over your bottom lip. Your hips had pushed into his as your own tongue sought his out and tasted him for the first time. A groan pushed it’s way from his throat and you accepted it hungrily as your hips moved again, this time against his very obvious arousal.

“Y/N…” His voice had dropped an octave or two, his forehead rested against yours.

“Next time, Josh. Next time.”

He’d kissed you again, pressed his lips to yours with a tender kind of force before pulling away and smiling that smile at you. “I’ll see you soon. And I will talk to you tomorrow. Have a good night, beautiful.”

You watched him hop down the two steps from your porch and practically skip down the driveway.

⏰

“Hasn’t it been like, over a month? We met them,” Jake pauses to calculate the time on his fingers, “almost six weeks ago. What’s the hold up?”

“There is no ‘hold up’, we’ve only gone out twice. I’m sorry her friend skewed your expectations of women by fucking you the same night she met you.”

“Whoa whoa, first of all, don’t be sorry that I get laid more than you. Second of all, my expectations are not skewed. I respect the sexual decisions of all people, not my business.” Josh rolls his eyes and begs his brother to get to the point. “I just thought you said she seemed into you. And it’s been six weeks.”

“Since you’re so concerned, I’m seeing her again tomorrow. Here. She’s gonna come here for dinner.”

“That’s great! Wash your fucking sheets you lazy bastard.”

⏰

You’re running late on your way to Josh’s house, having gotten held up and you’re working through a string of poorly constructed excuses in your head as you exceed the speed limit as safely as possible. When he opens his front door and welcomes you inside, your worry stays on the front porch. He smiled that smile, looked so happy just to have you in his space, that you instantly forgot you’d even shown up late.

As the door closes, the click of the lock rings through the entryway and you turn to each other expectantly. You make the first move, by a fraction of a second, and your bodies collide in a tangle of limbs just before his back meets the door. The kiss is a little messy, frantic as your tongues slip against each other and your hands roam. You’ve hardly touched him the whole time you’ve known him and you're almost surprised to feel lightly sculpted muscle under his t-shirt. He hasn’t let his hands move farther than up and down the expanse of your back but his fingertips are dragging across it, you both need to feel more.

Breaking the kiss, you’re breathing heavily as you murmur, “Sorry… I’ve been thinking about that for a week.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for that. You can do that as much as you want, when ever you want. I’ve been thinking about you too.” His grin is shy and lopsided again and you get just a peek of his teeth before he kisses you again. “Kick your shoes off if you want, you can leave your bag here, get comfortable. The tour will have to wait, I’m in the middle of cooking.”

He’s cooking me dinner.

Tugging you along by your hand, he guides you through the house to the kitchen, pointing out the obvious along the way. Livingroom, hallway (there’s a bathroom down there), stairs are over there.

“It smells amazing in here, what are you making?”

“Nothing crazy, just pasta.”

Nothing crazy looked an awful lot like a whole production. Thin strips of already seared steak as well as mushrooms, garlic, and various spices are prepped along the counter and red onion is simmering in a skillet. He checks the pasta boiling on a back burner before turning back to you with a bottle of red wine.

“This is too much Josh, really. It’s so nice of you.”

“I promise you it’s nothing. Or it’s really impressive and you’re extremely turned on by my culinary talents right now. Want a drink?”

“Yes please.” Taking a seat at his kitchen island, you watch him pour two glasses of wine. “We’ll have to wait until I taste it before I decide if it’s nothing or if I’m extremely turned on.”

He laughs with you but the truth is, you’ve been thrumming at a low frequency of arousal for the last week. The memory of your last kiss on your porch has been on heavy rotation, especially at night after you’ve just hung up the phone with him. You’d considered just taking care of it, several times, but you’ve been sure about your decision to take things further and concluded that you wanted your next orgasm not to be self-induced.

It’s been a long week.

Holding a glass out to you, Josh is staring like he’s trying to read your thoughts. You think letting him in a little could be fun.

“Thank you.” He smiles brightly before taking a sip from his own glass and setting it down to turn back to the stove. “Do you always work this hard when a girl already wants to sleep with you?”

His hand, stirring the noodles, comes to an abrupt stop as he whips his head to look at you over his shoulder. He takes a moment to formulate a response, but you haven’t rattled him as much as you hoped. “Only for the exceptionally captivating ones, mama.”

You sputter around the sip you’d just taken.

Turning back to the food, he just chuckles softly. “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it, my dear.”

The meal was close to complete in no time and you chat easily while he cooks. In moments of silence, he hums quietly and continues to add ingredients and stir, and as you watch his back move and flex beneath his shirt you realize he’s not using a recipe. It’s kind of sexy.

With a flourish, he wipes his hands with a towel from the counter and lifts them above his head as he tosses it back to the marble. “It is done!”

Clapping your hands softly and focusing on the strip of skin exposed by his lifted shirt, you congratulate him on his performance as he starts to plate the meal. At his wooden dining table, he pulls out a chair for you and waits until you’re seated to lean down and place a soft kiss to your lips. Once he’s sitting next to you, enough distance between your chairs so he can look at you easily, he smirks and raises an eyebrow.

“Moment of truth. Try it!”

He watches closely as you bring the fork to your mouth and close your lips around it. For effect, you pull it out slowly but the moment your eyes roll back in your head is not an act. After you’ve swallowed, which he also watched as if hypnotized, you take a sip of wine before speaking.

“I’m extremely turned on right now. Josh this is so fucking good! Do you cook a lot?”

His expression shows that he’s very pleased with himself, but his cheeks turn pink under your praise. “I do when I’m home and have the time, gotta keep things interesting. I’ve been working on perfecting this particular dish for a couple of years though… I’m glad it’s garnered the desired reaction.”

It doesn’t take long for both of your plates to be cleaned but you stay at the table slowly emptying the bottle of wine. Comfortable and satisfied, you’ve got a foot up in your chair, chin resting on your knee as you chat and Josh has put on music from his phone that’s bleeding out of some strategically placed and well hidden speakers.

“You strike me as a physical format type of guy when it comes to music. Don’t you have a record player or something around here somewhere?”

“Ha, I actually have three.” He’s not boasting, just stating a fact and also proving you correct. “I enjoy the concept of playlists though, creating a certain setting or mood appeals to me.”

At that moment, the silence of the last song’s ending is filled with soft acoustic guitar playing a familiar tune. Josh’s eyes instantly go soft as a wistful smile appears. Not wanting to disrupt the moment too much, you speak at a volume just above a whisper, “I love this song…”

He’s out of his chair instantly with a hand held out to you. “Dance with me?”

When you take his hand in yours, you’re pulled up into his arms that circle your waist as his palms meet your back. Looping your own arms around his neck, he moves in so that your cheeks are touching as he gently begins to sway. You’re not expecting it when he starts to sing along softly, his breath tickling over the shell of your ear.

Let me give my life to you

Let me drown in your laughter

Let me die in your arms

Let me lay down beside you

Let me always be with you

He seems to purposefully only hum the next few lines, taking the opportunity to press his lips to your hair before singing the rest as you continue to shift back and forth, wrapped in each other.

You fill up my senses

Like a night in a forest

Like the mountains in springtime

Like a walk in the rain

Like a storm in the desert

Like a sleepy blue ocean

You fill up my senses

Come fill me again

As the final notes float through the room, he kisses over your hair again before pulling back to look at you. The emotion swimming in your eyes is obvious and your pupils are blown wide, his own eyes bounce from yours then down to your lips and back.

“Josh…” Your mind is racing with thoughts that you know you need to speak out loud, this feels bigger than yourself but you can’t bring your mouth to form the words. Not yet. “Take me to bed…”

He doesn’t question it. He’s been sure that you’re exactly what he wants and he thinks you’re sure of it too, so he simply leads you to the stairs that he’d pointed out earlier and prompts you to ascend ahead of him. As you reach the top he moves you along with a palm against your lower back but at his open bedroom door, he pauses before guiding you through.

“You’re sure?” He feels like he knows the answer but couldn’t live with himself if he pressured you into it.

In response you take the lead and turn, pulling him into the room by the front of his shirt and into your body as your hands frame his face and then slip back into the curls at the base of his neck. He reaches back for the wall, searching for the light switch and you’re eternally grateful when it activates only a warm glow from two lamps equipped with Edison bulbs on either side of his bed.

“Interesting mood lighting you’ve got here, Josh.”

“Ehh, I don’t like harsh overhead light in my room. Ruins the energy.”

You’re giggling against his grin as you pull him into a kiss that quickly turns serious, and he moves you backwards until the backs of your knees meet the mattress. Lifting a leg, you move back over the surface then sink into it without hesitation and keep your grip on his shirt so his body follows, landing on top of yours. Held up by his hands pressed into the comforter on either side of your head, looking down at you with all sincerity, he asks if he can touch you.

Reaching up and circling his wrist next to your face, you guide his hand to move over your shoulder and down your chest until it reaches the bottom hem of your shirt that’s just barely ridden up your stomach. Once his fingertips meet the skin there, he takes over and slides his palm under your shirt and over your ribs until he’s got a handful of your breast. As he runs his thumb over the thin material covering your nipple, you answer.

“Everywhere. Touch me everywhere.”

He’d like to take his time, watch as every inch of your skin is revealed to him, but he’s been waiting for this. He’ll go slow next time.

Your shirt is being tugged up your body and you both shift to allow him to pull it over your head before you do the same to his. Leaned back and settled onto his knees, his chest is rising and falling with his breath as he tosses it to the floor to land next to yours. You let your eyes roam over each other for a moment before he’s leaned over you again and trailing his lips from your neck down to your clavicle. Propped up on one elbow, he lets his other hand explore your chest again, running fingers over the lacy material covering them before tentatively squeezing your breast. His hips move into yours involuntarily when you let a whimper slip out into the air next to his ear, but then he’s shifting his body to the side, next to you but still pressed fully against you. He captures your lips with his own as his hand slides down over your rib cage again and his fingertips meet the waist of your jeans.

Mouths still moving against each other’s, you nod your head in encouragement but he breaks the kiss to look at you.

You think he’s going to ask again but instead he moves his gaze down your bared torso until it lands where he’s touching you, and he watches as he pops the button and pulls the zipper down and skips touching you over your panties. His fingers delve past the lace and he groans as they skim over the little bit of hair there before landing on the soft skin of your core. When his eyes snap back to yours, you nod again as you shift and use your hands to push the denim past your hips and down your thighs until you can wiggle the jeans down and kick them to the floor.

His hand remains still, just cupped against you as you bend a knee and let your leg fall aside just enough that he can feel you spreading open to him under his fingers. Moving them, they slip through the arousal that’s pooled there and he bites back another groan.

“Fuck baby…” He slips them through again before moving them up and swirling a soft circle over your clit, your back arches off the bed. “So sensitive,” he chuckles lowly at your body’s reaction before circling over it again, “You want more?”

One of your palms is splayed out in the center of his chest but the other is gripping the bicep of the arm that’s extended over you. “Please, I’m gonna cum.” You’re not faking it, not being dramatic. The pent up sexual energy already feels like it’s threatening to spill over and while you’re not surprised in the slightest, his eyebrows have lifted in amused shock.

“Baby I’ve barely touched you.”

“Keep touching me.”

His fingers dip down to circle through the wetness at your entrance before he pushes one slowly past it. Your fingernails are digging into his arm, sure to leave tiny crescent-shaped marks on his otherwise flawless skin and he can feel your body clenching around his finger inside you as he pumps it slowly.

“Relax, I’ve got you.”

You try, you really do, and he can feel the tension release but as soon as he slips a second one inside, your body reacts the same way. He figures if it’s gonna happen, he should just enjoy it so he presses his palm over your clit while his fingers move and curl, buried deep. Your back has left the mattress again, he admires the way your skin stretches over your ribs for a moment before leaning down for a kiss. When his lips meet yours, your hand flies from his arm to the base of his neck to keep him there as your tongue begs for an entrance that he welcomes. Your hips are moving to meet the gentle thrust of his fingers, but he slides them from your cunt to press them to your clit again. He swallows the cry that rips from your throat, hums into it as he draws tight circles into your sensitive skin. His kiss moves from your lips to your cheek and when he reaches your ear he whispers, “Let go for me.”

The soft command grips your body and pulls you under. The string of oh and fuck and Josh spilling from your lips on repeat shoots straight to his dick and he’s silently praying that he’ll figure out a way to hear those words tumble from your mouth every day for the rest of his life. His fingers, swirling slowly against you, come to a stop as your body sinks back into the mattress and the fist curled into his hair releases its hold.

Your body is flushed and you can feel the heat on your chest and your cheeks, and when you’re able to crack your eyes open the sight of him is something to behold. The warm amber of his irises has almost completely disappeared around the deep black of his pupils, he looks drunk, and hungry, intoxicated and starving for more. Before he pulls his hand from your underwear he swipes his two fingers through your release, then brings them up to his mouth without thinking twice about it. You watch his lips, pink and perfectly shaped, close around them and his eyelids flutter the way yours had at your first taste of the meal he’d prepared.

When he pops his fingers out, he mumbles, “Next time. Next time, I need you to do that on my mouth.”

“Next time…”

Silence falls over the room and he lets his fingers trail over your skin, from your chest and over the lace of your bra, then down to circle around your navel. As soon as he’s paying closer attention to your stomach, it tenses and you hope he won’t notice your reaction but of course, he does.

“Sensitive everywhere huh?” His lips are stretched into a grin and you allow his question to be the explanation.

“Yeah… Josh?” His reply is a soft hum. “Are you gonna fuck me now?”

It sounds vulgar coming from your mouth, but he feels his heart rate speed up and blood rush to his dick again.

“No.” He answers simply.

“No?”

“No. It’ll be a little more romantic than that, I think.”

With that, he rolls and stands from the bed and you scoot yourself up to the pillows as you watch him move to undo the button at the waist of his pants. The muscles of his arms and chest bunch and flex as he moves, his stomach tenses when he pushes the fabric over his hips and it drags over… oh.

Nic was right.

Still covered by the cotton of his briefs, his dick is hard and sitting to the right, and it’s… impressive. He looks up to find your eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. He’s not unused to that reaction but something about it being you causes his dick to twitch under your stare and he reaches a hand down to rub his palm over it. The small groan that passes his lips snaps you out of it and you look him in the face, expecting some kind of cocky grin or retort.

“Stop looking at me like that or I’ll get a complex.”

Of course he finds the humor in the situation, but you’re a little intimidated. You decide to be honest about it, “We can’t have that. Um, Josh?”

He’s slipped his thumbs under the elastic at the top of his underwear, about to pull them down but he pauses. “Hm?”

“I haven’t- um… it’s been a while, since…”

Understanding softens his features and he smiles as he abandons removing his briefs and kicks his pants from his ankles before crawling onto the bed. “Do you… wanna stop?”

“No. I don’t. Just…”

“I’ll be careful with you, gorgeous girl. I promise.” He crawls over your body, knees straddling one of your thighs and presses a kiss to your forehead before placing another on your lips. When your arms circle him and your hands skim over the smooth skin of his back, he shifts his knee until it’s resting against you between your thighs. Your hips move, grinding your still covered pussy over him but he makes no further moves even as you whine into the kiss.

“Mm, do you wanna take these off?” A fingertip is running along the top of your underwear and dips just below it. You nod your head and he pushes himself up to slide them down your legs, trailing their journey down with his eyes until they slip past your toes and he tosses them away. His hands take that journey back up and when they reach your knees, he gently pushes them apart. He only lets his gaze linger on your bare cunt for a moment before he raises it to your face and asks if you want your bra off too. When you nod again he smiles and pulls you to sit up, reaches around you and unclasps it expertly with one hand. You let it fall forward, nervous for him to see every part of you but when you pull it away and toss it to the floor his eyes light up.

“Undeniably worth the wait, my pretty, pretty girl. You get more lovely every time I look at you.”

“I wanna see you too.”

He flashes that smile, wide and bright. “By all means, my dear.” He gestures down to his body with both hands.

You scramble to reach for the waist of his underwear, impatient and embarrassed that he’d felt the need to stop removing them just to soothe your nerves. Tugging them down his hips and over the length of him, his cock springs up once it’s freed but hangs heavy between you.

“Oh my god.” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it’s out there now so you figure you might as well go with it. “I know I’m not the first person to tell you this but… you’re kind of perfect, everywhere.” He responds with a sharp laugh and before you can get your hands on him he pushes you softly back to the pillows and begins to push the fabric the rest of the way down to his knees. Once he’s wriggled out of them he kicks the briefs away, the last piece to join the clothing’s now scattered over his bedroom floor. Lying across his bedding, spread out for him, wet and waiting, he wonders over how it is that you still look so innocent and completely untainted.

“You look like a flower.” You lift an eyebrow in question alongside a hand to coax him back to you, which he accepts. When his body is hovering over yours again, his dick nestled between your thighs and resting against the slick moisture coating your flesh there, he leans in closer to whisper, “Soft and pink, delicate and naturally beautiful. You look like a flower. My flower.”

You crane your neck to capture his lips, and he kisses you back firmly, pushing you back into his pillows. Snaking a hand down between your bodies, you run it over his stomach until you reach the base of him, wrapping your fingers around him. A soft hmph huffs against your mouth at the contact, the first time you’ve touched him there. You’ve hardly touched him at all but he doesn’t seem to mind right now as you’re guiding him to your cunt and the head of him is nudging you, begging for entry. He reaches down to replace your hand with his, rubs himself through your arousal before asking if you’re ready.

“So ready, please…”

Slowly, so so slowly, he pushes into you. As your hands move up his arms and over his shoulders he keeps his eyes on your face, searching for any sign that he should stop, but he doesn’t find one as he rocks his hips and eases in inch by inch.

“Jesus, flower, you’re so fucking tight. Relax for me.”

“I am relaxed, keep going…”

Not sure that you’re telling the truth, but positive that you can handle him, he thrusts into you to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You can’t help it yelping out of you but there’s nothing but pleasure behind it.

Throat tight, he asks if you’re okay and you’re quickly assuring him with a nod of your head, soft words of confirmation and finally pulling him in to connect your lips. You move your hips, encouraging him to do the same and the drag against your walls as he pulls back draws a low moan from deep in your chest. His thrust back into you knocks the air from your lungs and your mouths part as you gasp to get it back.

He rests his forehead against yours as he moves inside you, settling into a slow rhythm of deep strokes that are lighting you up from the inside out.

“So fucking good, you feel so good Jesus fuck,” his typical eloquence leaves the room as you squeeze around him. “Mm tell me, let me hear you.” He delivers a harder thrust, punching a string of expletives past your lips. Instantly drunk on your hazy murmurings, he picks up the speed of his hips until your legs wrap themselves around him and a heel is digging into the flesh high on his backside.

“Just like that, it’s perfect, perfect…” He doesn’t change a thing as you trail off, but your own hips are pushing into his and the sounds of skin meeting skin are echoing through his room.

“Gonna move, just a little bit. Need to see you.” When your head nods he pushes up from you, the skin of your chests audibly separates, a thin layer of sweat having formed between you. Hovering over you, you watch his eyes move down your body but they stop and focus on your chest, tits bouncing with every thrust of his hips. When he moves lower and realizes the view he wants is still obstructed, he lifts further and settles back on his heels, hands wrapped around the small of your waist and pulling you into him. Now he can see everything, but what he’s interested in rests between your legs and he zeroes in on it. His eyes squeeze shut as he shakes his head, like he’s trying to wake up but when they open he’s still watching your pussy suck him in, over and over again.

“God, look at you. Taking it all, I knew you could. A perfect fit, fuck…” His words have you clenching around him. “So good for me, perfect.” He lifts his eyes to your face and finds your eyes closed and mouth open, soft sounds of your pleasure floating from it. “Look at me, beautiful.”

You obey, opening your eyes and instantly moaning a low oh my god at the vision above you. You’ve never seen anything like him, he’s definitely meant to be naked, every inch of him is flawless. His normally fluffy curls have gone loose, damp and sticking across his forehead and his jaw is clenched tight even as he smiles at your expression.

You let your gaze roam over his chest to his stomach, the muscles there are tight as he pumps his hips into you. The v that leads down to where you’re connected stands out, the low light from either side of the bed casting perfect shadows.

“How- ohh… how are you real?” The thing you’ve been wondering for weeks leaves your throat as a whining question.

“Mm, I’m real, my flower. Don’t you feel me everywhere? Here?” One of his hands moves from your waist and comes to rest flat against the skin under your navel, pressing into it. You confirm, yes yes I feel you, and he moves his hand higher, skimming it up your stomach and the center of your chest and letting it land there, over your heart.

“Here? Do you feel me here too?”

You do, you know you’ve been holding him there since well before your first date, your first kiss.

“Yes, yes Josh. I feel you there.”

His expression goes soft and wistful, as it had downstairs before he’d asked you to dance. “I feel it too. I think before I even spoke to you…” The rhythm of his hips has slowed again as he lets himself get lost in his feelings for you. “There’s just something about you…”

One of your hands that have been anchored to him wrapped around his forearms, moves to rest over his on your chest, you want to remember this moment exactly how it is. Just you and him, bodies connected and letting yourselves admit that something more has been happening here. Lacing your fingers together, you’re gripping this moment tight because you know it’ll change, and soon. You pull his hand up to your lips and place kisses to his knuckles before moving it down your body until you’re pressing it into your mound, just above where he’s still moving when gentle purpose.

“Touch me, make me cum. I wanna cum for you, give you everything.” You can feel his cock pulse inside you before he starts thrusting against the backs of your thighs harder and faster again, and he slips his thumb to run over the slick arousal that’s spread over your skin. As soon as he swirls it over your clit, your back leaves the bed.

“Are you always so… responsive?”

Breathless from the emotion and burning under his touch you tell him no, it’s him, it’s all him. The words squeeze his heart and he feels you fluttering around his cock as he adds just a little pressure to his movements over your flesh. “Yes just like that, just like that, I’m there Josh. Don’t stop!”

“Give it to me, beautiful. So pretty when you let go.”

Your body obeys, the explosion of colors behind your eyelids when they snap shut is just like him. Bright and consuming, all that you can see and feel around you as everything else disappears.

Above you, he watches you writhe against his pillows, feels your cunt clench around him impossibly tighter, basks in the sweet curses rolling off your tongue. He’s hanging on by a thread to his own release, fucking into you softly as yours moves through you. When your legs slip from around his hips and your feet hit the bed, he whispers a request for you to open your eyes and look at him again.

You can barely hear him over the buzz in your head, but as soon as you can crack your eyes open and focus on him he’s pulling out of you quickly and stroking himself over you. You watch his mouth fall open as he spills over, his hot release hitting your stomach and pooling there. When the last of it lands below your navel he whimpers before he pulls his hand away and takes a few heaving breaths. You open your mouth to speak but he leans over you and swallows your words, lips and tongues pushed together and bringing your pairing to a soft closing.

He lets his body drop and tucks his face into the crook of your neck, unconcerned about the mess now trapped between you. As you bring a hand up to run over the dampened curls at the back of his neck, he speaks into your skin, “Absolutely worth the wait. I’d wait a thousand lifetimes for you.”

You think it might be a poetic version of the truth, and it’s heart wrenching. Your feelings are the same but you’ve been hiding a part of yourself that you should’ve revealed the first time you met. Now is not the moment, and you’re not sure exactly when the right time could possibly present itself, too far gone. Resigning to the fact that as perfect as this feels, you’re going to ruin it soon, you decide to let it wait. Just a little longer.

Josh eventually, begrudgingly lifted himself from you and left to clean up, returning with a warm cloth to do the same for you. He asked you to stay and you agreed, but told him you had to leave in the morning, you have to meet someone sort of early. Not questioning it, he settled you both under his comforter and pulled you close, lulling you into sleep with kisses pressed into your hair.

⏰

You wake up before him, the sun is already high in the sky and you can tell by the way it’s streaming across his face when you open your eyes.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Jolting up, you leave the bed without bothering to wake him or attempting not to, plucking your clothes up from around his room and tossing them onto the bed as you find them. When he sits up and finds you pulling your shirt over your head, the rest of you already clothed, he asks what time it is.

“I slept too late Josh, I have to pick up Sam-“

“Wait, what? You have to pick up Sam? Why are you picking up my brother?”

Oh god.

“Not your brother. Josh I don’t have time for this, I have to go.” He watches you leave his room as he jumps out of bed to find his pants, tugging them on as he follows you. You’re almost at the front door when his hand wraps around your arm.

“Y/N stop. Talk to me. Who is Sam?” His eyebrows are knitted together as he searches your face for an answer. “What’s going on?”

You let your head fall back as you stare at the ceiling, willing the right words to come to you. None of the words you come up with are going to make this any easier, a defeated sigh floats from your lips and up into the air before you face him. He looks confused, obviously, but there’s a little bit of fear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry…” It’s hardly a whisper, you’re not sure you even said it but the fear behind his eyes slips into sadness.

“Y/N… please just tell me what is happening here. I’m very confused.”

“Sam is my son.”

His hold on your arm loosens until his hand falls to his side. He’s studying your face as if your expression will bring him some clarity but he only finds regret there. “What?”

“I have a kid. His name is Sam. Ironically enough.”

Now that you’ve repeated it, it’s sinking in. “You have a child.”

You wonder how many times you’ll each have to say it out loud before he’s kicking you out of his house. “I do. And he is my whole world, Josh. Or he was, until I met you.”

He shakes his head and huffs out a sardonic laugh. “And you didn’t think I should know about that? You didn’t think you should tell me that before I let myself fall for you?” It chokes you into silence, the hurt tightens your throat and burns your eyes as your vision blurs. “I think you should go. Go get Sam…”

You turn and walk out the door before he can see you cry.

⏰

How many times can a toddler ask you why you're sad before you have a full mental breakdown? You’re pretty sure you’ll soon find out, Sam is too smart for his own good and too intuitive for yours.

Josh hasn’t called. You haven’t spoken to him in weeks and all you could do was fall back into your regular routine of wake up, drop Sam off at daycare, work, pick him up, playtime, dinnertime, bathtime, bedtime. Every day, and Josh hasn’t called. Hasn’t texted. Hasn’t asked his brother to ask your friend how you’re doing. It’s been over two weeks.

⏰

“You’re being a fucking idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’re being stupid.”

“Jake she lied to me. And not something small, she failed to tell me about an entire human life that she created. A whole child. For months.”

They’ve already had several versions of this conversation. Josh had called his brother the same day that you’d left his house, screaming incoherently about sex and lies and Sam but before Jake could make any sense of it his twin was crying over the line.

He’s pissed off, sure, but more than anything he’s hurting. Jake had told him to reach out to you, to clear the air, and most importantly to apologize for shutting you out.

“I get it, Josh. I do, I fully comprehend why you’re upset. But correct me if I’m wrong, you have feelings for her, yes?” Josh, head in his hands propped up on elbows rested on his knees, grumbles a confirmation. “And you miss her. You’ve been moping around here for weeks. What’s the issue?”

Snapping his head up to face his twin, he throws an incredulous look in his direction. “What’s the issue? She hid him from me. I had no fucking clue. I’m sitting here building a fucking life with her in my head and I don’t even know her.”

Jake nods in understanding, turning Josh’s words over in his head before responding. “So it’s not that she has a kid, it’s that she didn’t tell you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now. Yes, she deliberately lied to me.”

“You like kids.” Josh just shakes his head, suddenly infuriated with how flippant his brother is being over something that he deems extremely serious. “You actually love kids. Everybody knows that.”

“Your point?”

“Like I said, you’re being an idiot. Do you love her?”

Josh sits up and leans back in his chair, scrubs his hands over his face then runs his fingers over his mustache before scratching at his chin. “Yeah, I think I do, but-“

“And you don’t think you could love her child? Why? Because he’s not yours?”

“I never said that. It has nothing to do with-“

“Stop being stupid about this. Call her.”

⏰

The days crawled by, each one the same aside from nights that Nic would come over for dinner, help you put Sam to bed and then sit with you for hours. Filling the empty time that you used to spend on the phone with Josh.

Tonight is not one of those nights, and you’re sitting in front of your tv as some mindless reality show drones on. You almost jump out of your skin when your phone starts ringing on the table in front of you, but your heart is hammering in your chest when you pick it up to see Josh on the screen. It’s a picture you took of him at the bar on your first date, he’s leaned on one elbow over the bartop, smiling that smile, cheeks rosy and eyes focused beyond the camera lens. Focused on you.

You almost miss it, your hesitation to answer losing out right before it can go to voicemail.

“Hello?” You’re met with silence, he doesn’t answer right away and you think maybe he’s called accidentally, phone in his pocket as he’s out living his life without you. “Josh?”

“God, it’s so good to hear your voice.” His own sounds constricted, tight with emotion though you can’t imagine why. He cut you off and you’ve wallowed in your own misery alone.

“What do you want?” You can’t help but cut to the point, almost angry that he’d dare reach out and open with a line akin to I miss you.

“Just to talk. I know I should’ve called you sooner. Actually, I know I shouldn’t have even let you leave. Not like that… Y/N I’m so sorry.”

“You’re right. You should’ve called.” You know he had every right to be upset with you, but to go weeks with complete radio silence and call out of the blue with an apology seems too little, too late.

“I’m actually outside.”

You’re on your feet and moving to the window before you respond, and you move the curtain aside to find his Jeep in the driveway. “Go home, Josh. Now is not the time, Sam’s here and he’s asleep- actually I don’t owe you a reason. Just go home.”

He immediately does the opposite and you watch him climb out of his car and walk toward your porch. “Come outside and talk to me. Please, flower.” By the time he says it, he’s looking at you through the window with pleading eyes.

You sigh deeply before ending the call.

When you step out onto the porch you can see him fighting the urge to touch you, and you keep your body close to the closed door behind you.

Looking you over, he takes in your outfit, sweatpants and a hoodie, your hair tied up in a knot at the top of your head, eyes tired and a little sad. Also a little angry. “Beautiful as always.”

Unfortunately his words have the same effect on you that they always have, and you feel a blush creep over your cheeks. “Don’t. Please just say what you need to say.”

“Okay…” He takes a deep breath and you know he’s about to deliver a monologue. It’s just how he is, so you try to mentally prepare yourself but anything you could’ve expected is tossed aside immediately.

“To say I reacted poorly would be an understatement. I hope you can understand that my complete shock was not unfounded, I’m sure you know that. But you may not know exactly why I was surprised to find out that you’re a mother, especially after hours, and hours spent getting to know you.” He pauses to take another deep breath, you nod at him to continue and he inches just barely closer to you.

“I thought I knew you already. I spent a lot of time thinking about you, when we weren’t together or on the phone, I was thinking of you constantly. Dreaming of you. I’ve always dreamt of you. I think that’s why I was so drawn to you when we met… I’ve known you in my dreams for years.”

He’s taken a full step closer to you now, his fingertips are aching to reach out and touch you but he doesn’t. Not yet.

“The problem is, in my dreams we built this fantasy life together. The whole thing, we fall in love, a whirlwind romance really and you let me whisk you away. Travel the world with me, do everything you could’ve ever imagined. We have babies, if you want them, and they’re perfect little manifestations of our love.”

You haven’t moved from your spot, arms crossed as he speaks but silent tears have spilled over onto your cheeks and you let them fall, dropping to the ground at your feet. His fantasy of you is exactly that, and it’s something you could never give him. Not the way he’s imagined it.

His hands come up to cup your face and he moves in until the toes of his shoes are touching your slippers. You let him wipe your tears away with his thumbs and he keeps your jaw cradled in his hands as he continues.

“Now the other problem is, when you told me about him, about Sam, I suddenly felt like I didn’t know you at all. Like you had kept such a big part of yourself from me, that that life I had dreamed of was impossible. It took awhile but I’ve realized something.”

He wants you to speak, to let him know that you need to hear his next words.

“What?” It whispers past your lips and he leans in to press his against them. You can’t help but to kiss him back. When it breaks, he rests his forehead against yours and continues.

“I’ve fallen in love with you, my beautiful girl. My flower. And I could love him too, if you give me the chance. How could I not love every part of you?”

You release a sobbing breath and he pulls back to look at you. “Please stop crying, I don’t want you to cry anymore. Not because of me.”

“It’s just not that easy Josh.”

“It can be. Let me try. How old is he?”

“What?”

“How old is Sam?”

You can feel him trying, he wants to know more so you wipe your tears and give him more. “He’s three. Three and a half, really.”

“Three… it’s a good age. You know, Jake started playing guitar at three. Prodigy, that one.” It makes you laugh, exactly as he’d hoped. “Y/N… will you give me the chance to show you? I can do this, I want to.”

“Okay…”

“Okay?” There it is, that smile, perfectly imperfect and wide and bright and all for you.

“Yeah… yeah. On one condition.” He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. “Kiss me again and then go home. And I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Oh absolutely, my dear.”

⏰

“What have you told him about me?”

You’re sitting across from Josh at a table in the same restaurant he’d chosen for your first date. His curiosity makes you chuckle.

“I already told you, he still doesn’t know what a boyfriend is. No concept whatsoever.” Boyfriend. He grins like a little kid every time you say it, and it’s probably why he asked, again, if you’d talked to Sam about him. “He’s seen pictures of you. He knows your name, and knows I spend time with you when he’s at grandma’s house. He also knows that you like movies and you play the vocals, as requested.”

“When can I meet him?” Ah, that question. Though you’ve technically been with Josh for almost four months, you’re still not sure what the right answer is.

“Soon, I think. Maybe you can… I don’t know, go to the park with us or something. I just don’t want to confuse him too much, babe.”

Satisfied for the moment, he leans back in his chair and smirks at you over the table. “Ya know, if you’d let him get to know me, I wouldn’t have to sneak into your house after bedtime to fuck his pretty mama while she bites the pillows to keep quiet.”

“Josh! You’re disgusting.” You feign offense but you’re laughing with him as you throw your napkin at his face.

When you leave the restaurant, he drives you home and follows you inside. You lead him through the house, past the scattered Hot Wheels, monster trucks and Legos that tend to litter the floor of your living room, into your bedroom where he lets you undress him slowly. With your lips wrapped around him, cock nudging the back of your throat, he reminds you that he loves you. When his tongue is lapping at you, softly drawing you nearer and nearer to release, he shows you that he loves you.

When he’s buried inside you, whispering praise into your ear, calling you his flower, a goddess, you feel that he loves you.

⏰

One more month. You gave it one more month before you told Sam you were going to meet Josh at the park.

“Josh at the park!” He’s going through a phase where he repeats everything you say.

“Yep! Remember, Josh is mommy’s boyfriend. Is that okay?”

“Mommy’s boyfwiend is okay. Go outside?”

His beautiful one-track mind makes you giggle. “Yes sweet boy, let’s go outside.”

You’d told Josh where to meet you, instructed him on how to approach your child, coached him on what to say.

“Flower, I love kids. I myself am just a slightly bigger kid. I can handle this.”

Nervous as you make your way to the park, hauling Sam behind you in a red wagon, you think that maybe you should call Josh and remind him of what to do. On cue, your phone starts to ring in your back pocket and you stop walking to keep your eyes on Sam as you answer.

“Hey babe, we’re almost there.”

“I thought you might be. Do me a favor?”

“What’s up?”

“Tell him I’m excited to meet him, and stop worrying. It’s gonna be great.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’ll tell him. We’ll be there in a few.”

“See you soon, my love.”

Minutes later you’re rolling the wagon to a stop next to a red and blue bench and Sam is already bounding out of it and toward the slides. You know you don’t have to worry about him on the smaller ones but you hesitate to sit down, preferring to stand a little closer to the playground just in case. When a pair of hands come to rest on your shoulders, you grin as Josh leans into your ear and immediately asks where is he? Having seen hundreds of pictures and videos of Sam, he easily spots him amongst the few children begrudgingly taking turns going up and then coming down the slides when you point in their direction.

“Can I go, mama?”

He’s literally vibrating with excitement, you can feel it in his palms that have moved to hold onto your upper arms.

“Go ahead. Have fun!”

He presses a kiss to your cheek and then whispers against it, “I love you. Thank you.”

With that he leaves you, and you watch closely as your worlds are about to collide. Josh approaches the playground casually, and waits until Sam comes down the slide. Crouching down on one knee, he waves your baby over to him and the only part of the conversation you can overhear is the very start.

“Josh at the park!”

You smile as your vision clouds and you blink the tears away before they can fall.

When Sam reaches him, Josh smiles brightly. “Hey Sam, I’m Josh.”

“Mommy’s boyfwiend Josh.”

“That’s right, that’s me! It is sooooo nice to meet you, bud.”

“Nice to meet you bud.” Josh chuckles, remembering what you’ve said about how he repeats things in lieu of actually replying.

“Hey, Sam. Do you think I could play with you for a bit?”

“Play on the swide?”

“Yeah, can I go down the slide with you?”

“Go down the swide Josh! C’mon!” Sam reaches for Josh’s hand and grabs onto two fingers before tugging at it. Josh stands and let’s him “pull” him to the steps, looking back at you over his shoulder. His eyes find yours as you flick a stray tear away with your finger tips and smile. He uses his free hand to give you a thumbs up before he’s being pushed by the backs of his knees to climb steps.

You watch your son push your boyfriend up the tiny steps to go down the slide ahead of him. Josh is laughing when he comes down, the trip especially short for a grown man, even a rather small one. When he reaches the bottom, he turns and squats at the end of the slide, and you watch with fresh tears in your eyes as your baby lands in Josh’s arms. He’s wrapped up and lifted into them, smiles stretched across both of their faces and you can hear Josh’s raspy laughter mixing with Sam’s giggles that you love so much.

What you can’t hear, when Josh shifts Sam onto his hip and points in your direction, is Josh telling him, “Hey buddy, let’s go see your mommy real quick. She looks like she needs a big hug.”

Josh sets him down and he runs to you, arms wide open so you kneel to meet him with open arms of your own. Over his tiny shoulder, you watch Josh walk toward you both, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants and a soft grin on his lips.

“Mommy needed a big hug.”

You pull away to look at your son, his face so similar to your own, for which you’ve been grateful for the last almost four years. “Yeah baby, I did need a hug. You give the best hugs.”

“Are you sad?”

“Not at all, I’m very happy. Are you having fun on the slides?”

“Fun with Josh on the swide. Josh is fun!”

You look up at him, a man you’d completely underestimated, and find him swiping his fingers over his cheeks and grinning that sweet lopsided grin. Eyes still on Josh, you reply, “He is fun isn’t he? Go play some more sweetheart, I need to talk to Josh for a minute. Then we can go on the swings.”

“I go on the swings!” Sam repeats your words before bouncing away, past Josh and back to the slide.

Josh steps forward and offers his hand to pull you to your feet. “I told you it would be fine. He’s so great, Y/N, really.”

You keep his hand in yours and pull him to sit with you on the bench, with your eyes still focused in the direction of the playground. “He’s really special. I- um, his dad has never been in the picture. Didn’t want anything to do with either of us when I told him I was pregnant.”

Josh hasn’t ever asked for further information on Sam’s father. It was clear that he wasn’t involved, your mom and sometimes Nic being the only people you ever mention helping you with him, but this admission only further solidifies what he’d already been feeling. He squeezes the hand that’s clasped in his, his eyes also on your son. “I’m here. Look at me, just for a second.” You both pull your eyes from the playground to look into each other’s. “I love you. Don’t you think I can take care of you? Both of you?”

“I love you too… Josh this is a big thing you’re offering, I don’t think you understand how big. He’s… not yours. You don’t have to-“

“Hm, that’s where you’re wrong, my beautiful girl. My beautiful girl, you are mine to love and take care of, yeah?” He waits for you to confirm, which you do with a nod of your head. “Then he’s mine too.”

Hours later, after many trips down the slide, careful pushes on the swing and lots of baby giggles, Sam began yawning and showing Josh another side of himself. He’d gotten easily upset with another child over whose turn it was to scramble up the tiny climbing wall, and when you’d reminded him that he needs to share, he’d yelled a frustrated no in your face. You knew what needed to be done but Josh seemed to know as well, and he’d scooped Sam up into his arms.

“Hey buddy, I think it’s time to go home and chill out. Let’s go, what do you think?”

Rubbing his eyes, Sam had said, “What do you fink?”

“That’s what I thought you’d say. Let’s go home.”

“Josh go home too.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna take you home.”

He moved toward the bench, you thought he was going to place Sam down in the wagon but he grabbed the handle and started to pull it toward where his Jeep was parked.

“Josh you can’t drive us home.”

“Why’s that, flower?” You’d followed behind him as he reached the Jeep and unlocked it, swung the back passenger door open to reveal a car seat. You stood there, open-mouthed and wide-eyed as he turned to face you, Sam’s head rested on his shoulder. “I did the research, I know it’s the right one for his weight. I even drove to a fire station to make sure it was strapped in the right way. Did you know they do that? You wanna buckle him in? I’ve never done it before.”

Struck speechless, you’d taken your child from his arms and climbed up to buckle him in as Josh pulled the wagon around and stuffed it into the back of the Jeep. Once you were in the passenger seat and Josh had climbed in beside you, you’d told him he didn’t have to do all of this.

“I think that I did, babe.”

⏰

“Oh fuck, just like that baby, just like that.”

Josh growls in response and you can feel yourself clamp down around him. He feels it too and leans to the side to see your face, cheek pushed into his sheets, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open.

“Like that?” He’s pumping his hips against your ass, one hand gripping it tight and the other wrapped around your hipbone. He delivers a sharp thrust that pushes your body forward but the sheen of sweat on your face keeps you stuck in place. “Pretty girl likes it a little rough?”

He knows that you do, sometimes, when the mood strikes. It had struck hard earlier in the night, and you’d practically tackled him the moment you heard his front door click behind you. His back had slammed against it as your body collided with his, a hand immediately sliding down his torso and lower to palm his cock over his jeans. You’d felt it begin to harden under your touch as your tongue slid against his, before you pulled off of his mouth to lick a wet stripe over the sharp angle of his jawline.

“Want you in my mouth, let me taste it.”

He’d groaned against the shell of your ear.

Not long after, he’d lifted you off your knees from the floor and thrown you over his shoulder, hauled you up to his bed and you’d torn the clothes from each other’s bodies.

Now, he’s fucking into you, eyes bouncing from the delicious view of himself retreating and disappearing into your pussy stretched around him, to the expanse of your back, the graceful curve of it arched below him. He hears you mumbling against the mattress, begging for harder and more, and as always he’s trying his best to give you whatever you need despite the bruises you might have on the backs of your thighs tomorrow.

“Christ, I can feel you baby, are you gonna cum for me?”

You’d snaked a hand between your body and the bed and you’re doing your best to swirl frantic circles over your clit, moaning in response to his question. He needs to feel you let go, he wants to flip you over so he can see your face when you do but you’re so close already. He can wait.

When it hits you, he slows his hips to work you through it slowly, drawing it out as long as he can. The way you’d yelped out his name and then continued to murmur it softly into the sheets let’s him know that it’s working. He’s not there yet, and when he feels your muscles relax around him he slips out of you and lets you sink to the mattress. Using his hands to encourage you to roll over, he soaks in the dopey smile on your face once you’re looking up at him.

“Did that feel nice, flower?” You nod your head lazily and reach for him, running your hands over the sticky skin over his ribs before wrapping your arms around his back. “Are you gonna let me back in? I’m not done with you yet.” You let your legs fall open wide, inviting him to settle between them. He slips back inside as he tucks his face into your neck, pressing his lips along the column of your throat. His hips start moving again, he’s really just rocking into you but it’s deep and persistent and you know that sometimes this is just exactly what he needs.

“Mm, I love you like this mama, so sweet and soft for me after you get what you want.”

“Lucky for you, I always get what I want.” He chuckles at that and nips at your neck.

“You do, don’t you? Aren’t I always so good for you?”

His question warms your cheeks and tugs at your heartstrings. He wants to hear your praise and you know him well enough to know that he’s probably about to surprise you with some other minor kink he’s been hiding. You’re correct of course, and you’re definitely surprised.

He pulls away from your neck to hover over you, pets a hand over the damp hair at your temple and settles his hold against the side of your head. He nudges the tip of his nose against yours before he pulls a gentle kiss from your lips. When he opens them again, his eyes are begging for the words.

“You’re so good Josh, always perfect for me.” It causes his hips to break their rhythm momentarily as he twitches inside you.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

His voice drops to a whisper. “Let me fill you up, give you another baby.”

Oh.

Your brain turns it over rapidly. It wasn’t a real discussion you’d had, but even though you’d gotten back on birth control months ago and you’ve been together for almost a year, you’ve been using condoms all this time. Unless you didn’t, in which case he’d never even asked, he just didn’t cross that boundary. He’d paint your body with his release and you’d welcome it.

“Please.” His voice sounds strangled now, he’s hanging on by a thread and begging again for a response, his eyes locked onto yours.

“You wanna be a daddy, Josh?”

He clamps his eyes shut for a moment, a deep groan rumbles through him. He liked that, that’s obvious but it’s not a confirmation. “I’m already a daddy, my love. A damn good one. But I wanna see you all round and glowing with my baby inside you.”

A soft moan passes your lips. This is working for you in a way you would never have expected, and you can tell by the way he’s trapped his bottom lip between his teeth that it’s working for him too.

“Do it, cum for me. Inside.”

“Yeah… m’gonna knock you up, pretty girl. Make you a mama again. Fuck-“ His hips push into you hard and you can feel him spilling deep inside you as his mouth crashes into yours. You let him inside you there too, connected everywhere that you possibly could be. He stays tucked inside after he cums, and you whisper love into each other’s ears as you run your fingers up and down his back and over his shoulder blades.

When he finally lifts himself from your chest, propped up and smiling down at you, he surprises you again.

“You and Sam should move in with me.”

⏰

Things were not always perfect, but they usually came pretty close.

Josh had to leave sometimes, which you’d always known, he’d traveled for weeks at a time over the years, sometimes months and while it was never particularly easy, you and Sam got along just fine at home alone. As you always have.

He would call often, as much as he possibly could, and over FaceTime he would tell you all about what’s gone wrong, what’s gone right, and how he wished you were there with him.

“Where’s my boy? Isn't it almost bedtime? Lemme talk to him.”

You called for your now six-year-old who came running into the room, sliding to a stop and jumping onto the couch.

“DAD!! Dad I lost a tooth today, look!” He stretches his lips into a wide grin, showing Josh that one of his front teeth is in fact missing. “Mom said I have a gap like yours.”

You’re stifling a laugh with your palm as Josh flashes his own gap-toothed grin.

“That’s awesome buddy, I heard the tooth fairy is giving out crisp hundred dollar bills for high quality teeth like that one. I hope she delivers.” Your eyes roll back in your head, knowing you’ll have to make that happen. Josh notoriously spoils this kid. “Hey, someone else wants to say hi real quick.”

Josh passes the phone off and you see both of his brothers squeezing together to fit on the screen at the same time. Sam squeals in delight as Uncle Jake and “Big Sam” tell him that they’d heard that front teeth were worth $200.

“Nice hair dude, you’re gonna look just like me soon!”

“No, he looks like me. His namesake.”

Little Sam had decided he wanted to grow his hair out, and you’d let him give it a go. In reality, it just makes him look even more like you but you’ve decided not to hurt their feelings. Which is why you also choose not to reveal the truth, that he’d told you he wanted long hair because “Uncle Jake is so cool, Mom.” Sorry, Sammy.

When Josh takes the phone back, he tells you both how much he loves and misses you, and tells Sam that he better be good because he’ll be home soon and if he’s not good, he won’t get any of the gifts that are packed in Josh’s luggage.

The reunions were sweeter after the two of you had moved into Josh’s house, just a couple months after he’d first floated the idea. He would come home, to your shared home to be greeted first by your little boy and you’d watch as Josh kneeled to the floor to envelop him in a crushing hug that would make them both laugh wildly. He would scoop your baby up as he stood, keep him propped on his hip as he made his way to where you stood. His other arm would circle your waist and he’d pull you in to press his lips to yours, and Sam would make exaggerated sounds of disgust until Josh delivered a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s good to be home. I missed you guys so much.”

⏰

“Hey Sam, can you come with me real quick? I need to talk to you about something.”

You lift an eyebrow in question that Josh ignores as he leaves the kitchen with Sam, who’s happy to abandon his homework at the dining table.

Up in Sam’s room, which used to be a second guest bedroom (why Josh needed a house so big when he lived by himself, you’ll never know), Josh sits on his bed and asks him to sit next to him.

“First of all, you need to clean this room. What the hell are you doing up here?” Sam gasps and then giggles. “Don’t tell your mom I cursed.”

“She’s gonna be mad if I don’t go finish my homework.”

“You’re right. And she’s right, she’s always right, don’t forget that.” Sam’s looking at him expectantly, waiting for whatever he needed to talk about. Josh takes a deep breath and Sam knows this is gonna be a long one, Dad talks a lot.

“Sam, I love your mom very much.”

“Duh.”

“Smart ass. Let me finish. I also love you very much, and I’m so lucky to be your dad. Incredibly lucky that she was willing to share you with me.” Sam knows that Josh is not his real dad, but it doesn’t matter to him. “You two are my whole world, you know that?”

Nodding his head, Sam’s hoping he’ll get to the point soon so he doesn’t get in trouble about the homework.

“I wanna ask your mom to marry me. But I wanted to make sure that was okay with you first.” Josh is chewing over his bottom lip nervously while Sam stays quiet.

“Does that mean you’d be my real dad?”

“Oh, buddy I’ll always be your dad. No matter what. But, we could make it more official, if that’s what you and your mom want.” He’s holding back tears that are burning his eyes as his son studies his face.

“Yeah that would be cool. I hope she says yes, you’re kind of a dork.” The tears spill over as Josh laughs loudly, totally and completely in love with the little boy in front of him.

Later that night, long after that pesky homework is completed and dinner has been eaten and dishes cleaned up, after having sent Sam off to bed at least an hour ago, Josh is leaned against the pillows scrolling on his phone. Waiting for you.

The bathroom light goes dark and he looks up to find you leaned against the doorframe of the en suite, draped in a short forest green robe that’s belted around your waist.

“Don’t you look lovely? You know green is my favorite color.”

“No kidding? How fortuitous that I bought a sexy little slip of satin in your favorite color. Who would’ve known?”

Blood is already rushing to his dick, your voice is low and seductive and having the exact effect you’d hoped for. The robe is for show however, and as you walk toward the bed your fingers pull the belt apart, allowing him a glimpse of the bare skin underneath.

“God I love you.”

“Mm, why don’t you show me how much?” As you reach the end of the bed, you let the satin slip over your shoulders and flutter to the ground.

He’d moved quickly to pull you in, limbs and heart tangled with yours, and he showed you how much he loved you, over and over again, leaving you both breathless and sweating, chests heaving as you rested your head against his.

Drawing soft circles over the shape of his muscles, he stopped the motion of your fingers to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips. When you lifted your gaze to his face, he knew anything he had planned wouldn’t compare to this moment

“Flower?” You hum in response, eyes not leaving his as his expression turns serious. “Baby, I want to adopt Sam.”

You push off of him to sit up and see him clearly, whispering, “Really?”

“Yeah. And I think he wants that too. I should’ve talked to you about it first but it sort of just… came up when we were talking earlier. Would you want that?”

You’re nodding your head enthusiastically before realization hits you and your smile slips. “Josh, I don't think you can if we’re not-“

“Married?” You’re nodding your head again, mouth turned down into a full frown. He sits up to lean into you, a hand coming up to wrap around the back of your neck and pull your lips to his and then rests his forehead against yours, as he so often does. “The thing is, more than anything really, I would love it if you’d marry me.”

Pulling away, eyes wide and jaw slack, you stare at him until he speaks again.

“Will you marry me, Y/N?”

There’s a ring hidden away, but the plan has been abandoned and he has nothing to offer you right now aside from himself.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, absolutely yes.” You’re crawling into his lap, kissing over his face held in your hands and he’s laughing as your kiss lands on his lips.

When you pull away again, love swimming in both of your eyes, he says, "Thank god, Sam said you might say no because I'm a dork. Am I allowed to start grounding him now?

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here @gretavanbitches @twistedmelodies @wildflowerxx-x @dannythedog @blissfulbellss @averagemisfit03 @dharmasdivine @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lucimoo @toxbexannouncedx @dig0930 @maddie-van-fleet @friska101-cg @welllauragvf

Please let me know if you'd like to be added ❤️

[samkiszkasfacialhair]

Woman In a Dream

Woman In a Dream

Pairing: Josh Kiszka and Female (Third person POV)

Summary: Snapshots of Josh Kiszka’s journey of life and love based on the song 100 Years by Five for Fighting.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.9k

Requested by Anonymous

Song: 100 Years by Five for Fighting

~

I'm 15 for a moment

Caught in between 10 and 20

And I'm just dreaming

Counting the ways to where you are

Everything was still. The Kiszka house was dark and quiet for the night. All but one of the Kiszka boys was asleep in his bed.

Sam was fast asleep, out cold. 

Josh was on his way there, feeling his body shut down for the night.

Jake was the only one who wasn’t present.

Josh jolted up in bed when the sound of his bedroom window cracking open filled the air and a head popped through the small opening.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Josh whispered as Jake struggled to push his body through the small opening he created.

Jake grunted as he pushed his upper body through the window and pulled legs up and over the windowsill. 

Josh got up out of bed, opened the window more for Jake, and Jake’s body crashed onto the floor of their bedroom, head first.

“Shhh,” Josh said as Jake got up off the floor, laughing it off and shaking out his hair.

“Where were you?” Josh asked as Jake rummaged through the boys’ shared dresser in search of fresh clothes.

“Madison’s house,” Jake replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders and pulling his shirt off.

“What the fuck were you doing there?” 

Jake turned around and gave him a smirk.

“What do you think I was doing?” he replied with raised eyebrows and a huge smile on his face.

Josh knew what Jake was doing there. Of course he knew. It was obvious. Jake was with a girl. What else was new? Jake was always with girls. Every other week, Jake would come home from school or from being out for the night with a new hickey displayed on his neck while Josh covered for him in front of their parents. 

Josh sighed, threw himself back down in bed, and shut his eyes hard.

When will it be him? When will he finally get what his brother has? Will he ever find someone who loves him, or for now- someone who even likes him? His mind replayed those answerless questions over and over again as he fell asleep for the night, dreaming of falling in love.

I'm 22 for a moment

And she feels better than ever

And we're on fire

Making our way back from Mars

“Can I get a chai latte with oat milk and just a little bit of honey, please?” Josh said as he looked up from pulling his card out of his wallet to lock eyes with the woman behind the counter.

He felt his world stop. She was beautiful. She was everything he’d always dreamed of. He was instantly captivated by her.

“You got it,” she said with a smile, “Can I get a name for the order?”

“Um, Josh,” he said, blinking a few times, flustered.

She made up the drink and met him with it at the other end of the counter. 

Normally, she would place the drink on the counter. But not this one. She held it out to him, giving him a small smile as he took the cup from her hand, brushing his fingers lightly over hers.

He went back every day. 

11 am.

A chai latte with oat milk and just a little bit of honey.

Josh.

Quickly, she memorized the order. A few times, he forgot to ask for honey, and she reminded him, resulting in a nickname of “Honey.”

Shortly, she had his name already written on a cup just a few minutes before eleven each day.

Eventually, she was sitting across from him at a small café table on her break. Sitting next to him turned into waking up next to him. Waking up next to him turned into spending every day together.

Finally, she was standing across from him, in a white dress, as she took the last name Kiszka as her own.

He kissed her with all the love he had in his heart as his brothers stood next to him and smiled in admiration.

For years, he watched his brothers have flings and fall in and out of love. He watched them kiss the women they loved and profess their love for them. Now, it was him. He was finally experiencing what he had laid in bed thinking about for years. He was living in his own dream, and he never wanted to wake up.

I'm 33 for a moment

I'm still the man, but you see I'm a "they"

A kid on the way, babe

A family on my mind

“Come on, Mama. Just a little more, come on,” Josh said as the bones in his hands were crushed from her grip on him.

He was stressed and scared as chaos surrounded him in the delivery room. The past nine months plus fourteen hours of labor were finally coming to their peak at a little past 2 am.

“Fuck you!” she screamed, with sweat dripping down her face and rage in her eyes.

Fuck me, is right, he thought to himself as visions of the next eighteen years flashed before his eyes.

However, within minutes, all his anxiety and fear washed away as he laid eyes on his new born baby and his wife, who he dubbed right then and there- the strongest and most beautiful woman in the world.  

Just a few minutes later, the room that was once full of chaos and noise, was calm and quiet. He rubbed his wife’s sweaty hair out of her face and kissed her forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered as she looked up at him.

“Love you too. Both of you,” he replied.

His entire heart was filled with love- for the woman of his dreams laying in front of him, and the baby in her arms who he helped to create.

Once the two of them were settled, he walked out into the maternity ward waiting room to see Jake and his parents sitting there, waiting restlessly for news.

They all stood up at the sight of him.

He caught Jake’s eyes first and smiled.

“You have a niece.”

I'm 45 for a moment

The sea is high

And I'm heading into a crisis

Chasing the years of my life

“Hey,” she said, closing the sliding glass door behind her and meeting Josh on the deck of a beach house rented for a family vacation. She leaned on his back and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Mm,” he mumbled, looking out into the ocean with his eyes squinted.

She looked at him, sympathetically. Something had been weighing on him for the better part of a year. He never mentioned what it was and she never brought it up that she already knew what it was; even despite him not telling her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in a whisper, giving his back a few rubs.

He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.

“I think I’m done,” he said softly. “Ya know? Greta Van Fleet… I’m, I’m done.”

He turned his head to look at her as tears filled his eyes. 

He dropped his head back down and shook it, like he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his own mouth as he spoke them out loud for the first time.

“I just feel like, like, I’m wasting my life. Like, I’ve done everything for Jake, ya know? I want to start doing something for myself for once.”

She nodded and rested her chin on his shoulder. She brought one hand up and stroked his hair as she spoke.

“I think,” she began, “You need to do what makes you happy. You need to make your own dreams come true. If that means leaving the band, then, that’s what you have to do. But you know, no matter what you do, I’m always gonna be here for you, right?” she assured him.

He nodded and sniffled.

“Besides, I stuck by you during your mullet phase, didn’t I?” she joked.

His body shook as he let out a laugh.

“That was a good look,” he said, defending himself.

Half time goes by

Suddenly you’re wise

Another blink of an eye

67 is gone

The sun is getting high

We're moving on

Josh sat up in his seat and held out a shaking hand for her to grab. 

She took his hand in hers and rubbed the top of it with her thumb as a list of names was rattled off. 

“And the Academy Award for best live action short film goes to… Josh Kiszka.”

Instantly, the theater erupted in applause and cheers.

Josh stood up and turned to face her. She grabbed his face with a soft hand and kissed him until both of their smiles broke out and separated their lips. He gave her cheek one last kiss, turned to his colleagues for hugs, and walked to the stage to accept his award.

“Wow. This is unexpected,” he began, shaking his head in disbelief, “I have to thank my family- my parents and my brothers, who helped me get here. But most of all, my beautiful wife. You are everything to me. You know that. Thank you.” 

He held up the award with a soft smile on his face.

He looked out into the audience for a brief moment and took it in.

All his hard work, late nights, and self doubt, had paid off. It was all worth it. 

He used to look out in audiences to a sea of people, young and old, singing his songs along with him. In those crowds, he could always pick her out. She was always there.

Now, he looked out to a crowd of people he’d admired for years, applauding him for his work. And even though the sea of faces had changed, one had stayed the same, and he could pick it out instantly.

I'm 99 for a moment

And dying for just another moment

And I'm just dreaming

Counting the ways to where you are

Josh sat in an armchair wearing an all black suit. 

He closed his eyes and imagined her. All his moments with her throughout the years flashed before his eyes. When he first fell in love with her. When he raised children with her. When he traveled the world with her. His entire life with her- which was now nothing but memories.

He imagined he was with her again, one last time.

“Grandpa, wake up,” he heard faintly as a hand rubbed his shoulder.

15 there's still time for you

22 I feel her too

33 you’re on your way

Every day's a new day

15 there's still time for you

Time to buy and time to choose

Hey 15 there's never a wish better than this

When you only got a hundred years to live

“Josh, Josh wake up!” Sam said as he shook him around in bed. “Come on, Grandpa! Mom said you can’t sleep all day!”

Josh slowly opened his eyes and winced as the morning light blinded his tired eyes. 

He sat up on his elbow and looked around, bringing himself back to the reality that he was in fact, in his bed, where the window next to him was still slightly cracked open from the night before.

“Plus, Jake is in so much trouble!” Sam said excitedly, “Mom and Dad found out he snuck out last night, come on!” Sam explained as he practically ran out of the boys’ room and into the living room where Jake was getting reprimanded while trying to hide a hickey. 

Author’s Note: This was fun to write. Thank you to that Anonymous person for requesting it. Sorry it took me so long to get to. I hope this met your expectations!

This may be my last fic for a bit. I wanted to put it out since it was a request and the ideas were floating around in my head for a while. I do hope to return to you with more sickening sweet and heartbreaking stuff sometime in the future but for now, I will be taking a break. 

I have been feeling unappreciated in the world on fanfics. I know I don’t write smut, and that is always going to do well, however, I put a lot of time and love into my fics and lately, it has been disappointing to see them get very little love back. I know numbers are not everything but its hard not to feel a bit defeated when I see so many other fics doing well in comparison to mine.

I want to get back to a place where I’m writing for myself. It’s fun to see all the notes on fics but lately, all I have been thinking about is numbers and I’ve been beating myself up when my fics don’t perform well. That’s not why I started doing this and I want to get back to that. I hope to return to you sooner rather than later!

-E ♥

Songs: 

Greta Van Fleet: Always There

Jonas Brothers: I Believe

Nick Jonas & The Administration: Who I Am

Lizzy McAlpine: I Don’t Know You At All

Five for Fighting: 100 Years

(sorry I’m a Jonas Brothers stan too lol)

[shimmerwindow]

I Never Really

Part One

Pairing: female!Reader x Sam

Warnings: Cigarette use

Words: 3.3k

Playlist | Masterlist

A/N: Hi everyone! I’m so pleased to announce the beginning of my first fanfiction for the gvf fandom! This fic was meant to be a short little exploration of a college AU, but it ended up completely running away from me. This is the most ambitious and longest piece I’ve undertaken in my 10+ years of fic writing, and I’m very excited and nervous to see how it turns out. Expect a slow burn at first, but it will turn into a raging fire soon enough. There will be ridiculous levels of pining, angst, pain, ceilings by lizzy mcalpine, the whole nine yards. I hope you all enjoy! I love you!

The fall air had a bitter chill to it. Though, when standing on a roof, that was to be expected. Wind whipped through your hair and numbed your fingers as you cupped your hands around your mouth to light the cigarette between your teeth. You inhaled, exhaled, and stared up at the few stars in the sky. Mostly black, the stars themselves blinded by the lights of men and their cities. You tried to commit that line to memory, it would make a good opener for a book.

You shoved your hand into the pocket of your sweatpants, fidgeting with the key there. You’d paid off the RA with a rather large chunk of change for that key. She’d had some connection to the maintenance man for your dorm building – a friend of a friend of a friend’s dad, or something, you couldn't remember anymore. She'd copied his key and gave the copies to those she could trust to keep their mouths shut about it. You were one of the lucky few. It was the key that unlocked the door to the roof.

You weren't a party girl, by any means. You didn't come up here to have drinks and play music with a group of 20 people. You just wanted to smoke in peace.

Peace that, apparently, was about to be short lived, as you heard a skittering sound behind you. You ducked behind an AC unit, as you’d done many times before. The sound was the falling of the rock that you’d carefully placed on the edge of the door, something of an alarm to let you know if you were being interrupted. It had happened many times in the past, but it was always a false alarm – just another key-bearer looking to light up a joint or stare at the sky.

Peering out from behind your shelter, you felt a sinking feeling in your chest. You didn't recognize the man walking through the door this time. He looked like he’d been startled by the falling rock, but was looking around inquisitively. Like he was searching for someone. He failed to set off your danger instincts, and he was far too young to be a maintenance man.

You stepped out from behind cover, taking a few steps towards him. You couldn't see his face clearly yet, as he was bathed in light from the stairwell.

“I think you went a floor too high,” you called above the howling of the wind.

He jumped like he’d seen a ghost, his hands flying to his chest.

“Woah, hey. Sorry to startle you.” You took another drag of your cigarette, inspecting it between your fingers. It was almost gone.

“Oh, perfect,” he called back, walking in your direction.

You gave him a puzzled look, but kept quiet.

“Can I bum one?” He asked, approaching you.

You pulled the pack of cigarettes out of your pocket and handed one to him. You had a deal with yourself that you would always share with a stranger – but only once per stranger.

He clapped his hands together in a praying motion and bowed at you. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.” He snatched it out of your hand and lit it hastily with a pink lighter he pulled from his pocket. You noticed his hands were shaking as he took a long, deep drag.

“Fiending?” You asked.

“Like crazy.”

You could just barely see him in this light. He had long brunette hair with loose waves to it that cascaded down over his shoulders, and kind-looking brown eyes that peered at you half-lidded. He flashed a smile, nearly blinding you with perfect teeth.

“Sorry to bother you.”

“It’s alright,” you said, stamping out the cigarette and putting the butt in your coat pocket. “Do you have a key?”

He cocked his head at you. “To the door? No. It was open. I just did a lap of the whole campus looking for someone to bum off of. This was my last resort. So, thanks for being here, I guess,” he chuckled.

“My pleasure,” you smiled back.

“I’m Sam, by the way.” He shifted like he was going to shake your hand, but decided against it. “I live here.”

You introduced yourself, telling him you also lived here. He repeated your name back to you several times, as if he was trying to solidify it in his mind.

“I haven't seen you around. Did you just start?” You asked.

“Nah,” he shook his head, giving you that wide smile again. “I just don't get out much.”

“Fair enough.”

You craned your neck up to face the stars, letting silence settle between you and him.

He broke it rather quickly. “That’s Venus, right there.” He motioned with his cigarette towards the brightest point of light in the sky.

“Oh, cool,” you replied, the phrase coming out much less enthusiastic than you intended.

“How much do you know about the stars?” He asked.

“I…don't know how to answer that. A bit, I guess?” You laughed, somewhat nervously.

He tipped his head back, taking a puff from his – well, your – cigarette and blowing the smoke high into the air. “Only a bit?”

You shrugged. “Yeah.”

“I think about it a lot.” He peered down at you, his head still pointed at the sky, but his eyes locked on yours. “Like, what’s up there, you know?”

“I’ve got more than enough to worry about down here.” The reply came off a bit more rude than you’d meant it to.

“That so?” He smirked. “What’s your major?”

“Communications. You?”

“The hell are you gonna do with that?” He laughed, seemingly at himself. “Sorry. That was mean. I’m just another business major. Just want a degree to say I have one, you know?”

You shot him a look that could kill. “If you must know, I’m trying to get a book published. It’s a little easier if you know what you're doing.”

“Wait, that’s actually sick. I love writing!” His tone softened, his eyes glinting. “Let me read your shit some time!”

“Absolutely not.” You dropped the remains of your cigarette, stepping on the butt of it to extinguish the ember. “It’s pretty mediocre shit anyway.”

He tilted his head at you, taking you in as he took another drag from his dwindling cigarette. “I doubt it. You look like you’ve got a lot of good stories to tell.”

Something about this guy was captivating. You couldn’t help but hang on every word, almost nervous to see what he would say next. A kind of giddy excitement started to rise in your chest as you watched him run his hands over his hair.

“That’s very sweet of you. But I assure you I don’t have much to write. Just boring mock articles and essays on Shakespeare.”

“Still sounds like my jam.”

It almost felt like he was hitting on you, and the excitement turned to panic. You could see where this was going, and you didn’t like the hypothetical ending one bit.

You glanced at your phone, pretending to be surprised at the time. “It’s getting late. I’d better go,” you said, blurting it out before he had the chance to speak again. You made your way towards the door abruptly.

“It was nice chatting with you! Thanks for the cig!”

“No problem!” You called back. It most certainly was a problem.

“Hope I see you again,” he shouted in your direction.

You turned just in time to see him waving, smiling around the cigarette between his teeth, before the door shut behind you. Making your way down the stairs, it felt like your brain was buzzing, and it was more than just the nicotine in your system.

The door to your dorm slammed shut behind you, and you collapsed into bed, kicking your shoes off.

Your interaction with Sam hadn’t been entirely out of the ordinary. You’d met several people that same way. Yet, something about it stuck out to you. Maybe it was the fact that he claimed he’d taken a lap around the entire campus, yet his feet were bare and he was wearing clothes that were much too light for a chilly autumn evening. He was only a little taller than you, but his legs had looked so long in those shorts…

Rolling over in bed, you forced yourself to stop your thoughts dead in their tracks. You had more important things to worry about right now. First and foremost, this place was a mess.

You’d been one of the very few lucky ones when assigned roommates at the start of the year. Only a few days before the start of the year, your roommate had dropped out. The school hadn’t been able to find a replacement, and you ended up getting the room all to yourself.

You milled aimlessly about your dorm, doing some light organizing here and there, your body trying to busy itself so your mind could slow to a stop. But you only ended up deeper in thought about him. About Sam. And you couldn't stop replaying his words in your head.

The question he’d asked you, about the stars. Such an odd thing to say. He’d said it so casually too, as if he'd been asking your favorite color. He seemed like quite the character. Maybe, in another life, when you didn't have the crushing weight of education holding you down, you could befriend him.

With your mind racing in a way that you hadn’t felt since high school, you gathered your things for the week ahead, trying to keep yourself focused. It felt so ridiculous that one interaction with one man would leave you so frazzled. It was simply the Sunday scaries manifesting itself in a different way, you told yourself. Feeling anxious over whatever your mind could grab ahold of.

You were able to forget about him just long enough to settle down for bed. Though he lingered in the back of your thoughts, and you fell into a restless sleep with his name on your lips and his face in your dreams.

* * *

Sipping at your coffee, you cringed at the taste – you'd ran out of creamer and hadn’t bothered to buy more. Black coffee was never something you drank willingly, but you would never make it to a 7 a.m. lecture without it. You barely noticed when a backpack landed in the seat next to you, followed by someone sitting beside it. Internally, you rolled your eyes. A giant lecture hall, and this guy had to take the seat right next to you?

“Hey.”

You recognized that voice. It was him. Sam. The guy from the night before.

Finally seeing him in the light of day, you fixed your tired eyes on him. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out, only a silent gasp and a sigh. Maybe you were just a bit too tired, but the man sitting next to you looked like a god incarnate. His hair was pulled back into a haphazard bun, revealing flawless skin and features sharp enough to cut glass.

He stared back at you with a soft gaze, his perfectly sculpted brows knitting in confusion. “Sorry. Do you not remember me? Last night, you gave me a cig–”

“I remember.” You spoke louder than you meant to, and cleared your throat, a little embarrassed.

Turning to face the front of the class, you could feel a blush creeping across your cheeks. You willed it to go away, but focusing on it only seemed to make it worse.

“I, ah…sorry. I can move.” He reached for his bag and half-stood.

“No, you can stay!” Once again, you spoke louder than you meant to. God, this was agonizing.

“Oh, alright.” He sat back down, and you could feel his eyes on you as you pretended to flip through your notes. “Are you feelin’ alright?”

“Just tired.”

“Me too.”

Right on cue, the professor cleared her throat loudly, finally cutting the tension between you and Sam. You relaxed a bit, thankful that god-awfully awkward exchange was over.

“Hey.”

You could only look at him out of the corner of your eye, worried that gazing on him fully again would shatter you.

“You got a pen?” He whispered.

First the cig, now this, do you own anything of your own? you wanted to ask, but you held your tongue, digging through your bag and handing him an extra pen.

“Thanks.”

The rest of the lecture was practically impossible to focus on. You could see him just out of the corner of your eye, and his mannerisms were distracting, to say the least. He played with his hair a lot, you noticed. And he chewed on the pen you gave him. Thanks a lot. You can keep it.

This class was a necessity to your degree, and you couldn’t have him screwing this up for you. Tomorrow, you would find a different seat. Maybe come a few minutes late so he couldn’t sit next to you. But there was something mesmerizing about him, something that filled you with dread and longing.

A lecture about the historical importance of Beowulf faded into white noise as your thoughts wandered, back to the night before. The way he’d ran his fingers through his hair and shrugged when you asked him what his major was – such a simple gesture, yet so memorable. That’s what you found so captivating about him, you ruminated. He didn’t outwardly seem like anything special, other than his Adonis-esque looks, and yet, he exuded some kind of aura. Something golden and glistening.

You heard your name, and the sound of backpacks rustling and feet shuffling. You’d zoned out for the past who-knows-how-long, and class was over. Sam was offering you your pen back.

“You can keep it,” you said briskly, stuffing your things back into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder, and hurrying out of the room. You could feel his eyes piercing you with that golden gaze as you walked away.

He was going to be a problem for you, and you knew it.

* * *

You had been seeing him everywhere. It seemed like every place you looked, there he was. The library, the dining hall, out on your afternoon walks, even in corners of campus few people bothered to go to. It had been a week since your first rendezvous on the rooftop, and you’d been avoiding the place ever since.

It isn’t a crush, but it sure feels like one. The phrase had been echoing in your head since the night before, still chanting itself over and over as you sat in the back row of the lecture hall. You took a long swig of your coffee, hoping the caffeine would rattle it out of your mind.

You could see Sam, sitting in the spot you’d been in the day before. You had shown up exactly one minute late, just enough to ensure he couldn’t sit next to you. Something inside you felt a deep guilt as you watched him glance around the room a few times when class started. Clearly, he was looking for you.

There was absolutely no chance you would allow yourself to sit next to him today, of all days. Not after the dreams your mind had conjured up the night before. You could still see it so vividly, the impossibly long and lush green grass in the field you laid in with him, the flowers you'd put in his hair, the birds that landed on the grass in front of you. Praying you would forget it, you strained to focus on the rest of the lecture.

The professor’s topic shifted to the end-of-semester project. An essay on Germanic heroic legend, to be completed with a partner. With a partner. With a partner. You hung on her every word as she explained, your eyes darting around the room for anyone you might recognize from anywhere, anyone but him. To your dismay, you’d done a horrible job of making friends on campus – Sam was the only person in the room you knew.

Her voice echoed like terrible bells in your ears. "Find a partner, and email me your choices tomorrow. If I don’t get an email by Sunday night, I’ll assign you someone who doesn’t have a partner yet. Have a good rest of the day."

You watched Sam turn himself around, his eyes locking on you immediately. Had he known you were there the entire time? Did he realize you were avoiding him? His long legs crossed the room before you even had time to gather your things and leave.

“Need a partner?” He gave you a wicked, perfect smile that made your knees feel weak.

“No. I’ll let her assign me one.” There was nothing you could do to stop the words from coming out bitchy. And it was reflected on his face, an expression of hurt washing over him briefly.

His eyes dropped to the floor. “Okay. Right. Sorry.” Without another word, he was out the door and out of view.

You stood unmoving for a minute, wondering why you’d done that. No wonder you have no friends here, your brain screamed. You tried desperately not to care, telling yourself it didn’t matter. But the truth of the situation seeped in slowly, chilling you like ice water running down your spine. You’d hurt him, for nothing. For no reason whatsoever.

Would he really be that bad of a partner? He seemed like a pretty nice guy, though you didn’t know him very well. And he actually went to class, unlike half the people in that lecture. The reality of being assigned a random partner hit you like a brick wall – the risk was enormous. This class was difficult, and the chance of ending up with someone who did zero work was too high to risk it.

You ignored the small part of your mind telling you these were all just ridiculous justifications. And you pushed away the much louder part of it that was reminding you of the way he smiled at you in your dream last night while your fingers worked his hair into braids.

You moved quick, skirting around the other students making their way through the doors, nearly running after him. You had no reason to tell him no. No reason to avoid him. If you kept dodging him like this, it would be just as bad as admitting it to yourself. Admitting what? Nothing.

Down the hall, you could see him making his way around the corner. Dashing through the crowd, nearly tripping and falling in the narrow hallway, you caught up to him.

“Sam,” you half-shouted, trying to steady your breaths so he wouldn’t know you’d ran after him like that.

He stopped, looking left and right, searching for the source of his name.

“Behind you.”

He turned around, a smug smile creeping across his face. That look was enough to make you want to turn back around and forget it. “Yeah?” He said.

“I’m sorry. I’m…in a bad mood today. I guess. We can partner up.”

“Groovy." His face betrayed the mundane reply, his eyes lighting up with a fire that almost made you flinch. "I gotta run, but I’m sure I’ll see you on the roof.” He gave you a haphazard wink, and continued his way down the stairs and out the door.

You were frozen, mind running a loop of blank static. Both regret and jubilation washed over you at once, leaving you a confused mess of a human. Trying to shake the feeling of unease from your bones, you made the walk over to your next class. You were certain the rest of the day would feel exhausting after that. Sending up a silent prayer, you hoped this would not be the start of something. Though you could feel gears turning, and worry turned to panic as it set in that, perhaps, you had just knocked down the first domino in a series of events that would lead you down a very, very long road.