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seenoversundown · 22 days ago

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Insidious : One

Jake Kiszka x Rory (Fem OC)

Warnings: alcohol, partying, uncomfortable situations, tension, suggestive language, heavy petting if you will.

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Rory gets dragged to an after party that could potentially alter her life.

Author's Note: I have had the itch to write a story like this for a while and I finally decided to just rip the metaphorical band aid off. Strap in 😘 and I hope you guys enjoy the ride

“It’ll be fun, I promise!” Is the last thing Georgia said to me when we walked into this mess. I watched her disappear into the little crowd of people that are crammed into this apartment. I would say penthouse, but that makes them sound rich and this is just an Airbnb for them.

Surrounded by people who are either heavily tattooed or Instagram baddies, I definitely don’t feel like I’m necessarily blending in. Georgia had gotten into a slight situationship with the bassist of this band from the area. Not that it’s really saying anything; Vegas is a city full of dreamers.

But they recently booked a big tour, so they decided to celebrate with a hometown show and then an after party. Naturally, we had to attend both. So now, I’m left to wade through all these sweaty people in hopes that I don’t have to hold Georgia’s hair back later.

The only solace I have is when I find where the drinks are. Grabbing a vodka seltzer, not even caring what the flavor is, and downing at least half of it in one go. Alcohol is going to be the only thing to make this after-party bearable.

Scanning the room, I can see her off in a corner talking to the infamous bassist she talks about twenty-four seven. Well, at least she’s having a good time. Taking a couple more big sips, I finished off my first drink— but definitely not my last of the evening.

About halfway through my second drink, I start to hate this less. Talking to a few random girls who look about as lost as I do. Grateful to have found anybody to talk to at this point. The alcohol was coursing through my veins, helping me loosen up. I’ve never been particularly a big people-person, which is comical considering the career path I chose, but that’s a story for a different day.

“Stop! Oh my god!” One of the girls squeals, leaning close to my ear and I can smell the beer on her breath as she whispers, “I think that’s fucking Sam.”

“Who?” I ask, between the loud music, all the talking, and the fact I’m rapidly approaching what some would call a good buzz, I have no fucking clue who she’s talking about.

“Sam Kiszka! How do you not know him?” She gushes. Carefully pointing him out as he makes his way through the room.

His long hair cascades over his shoulders until he brushes his hand through it, pushing it out of his face. He’s tall and slender. I watch casually as he walks past us; his ripped black skinny jeans and solid black vans tell me everything I need to know.

“He’s in a band?” I ask her, glancing back over to watch him hug someone that he must know.

Her eyes went wide, “You really don’t know?”

I shake my head and shrug.

“He’s in a band with his brothers,” she tells me. “They’re pretty heavy, even though the singer doesn’t look like he could scream.”

“Which one is he?” I ask, trying to find someone who looks similar.

She stands on her tiptoes, yelling when she finds him. Her arm was pointing in the complete opposite direction from where I was. “He's over there. Shorter, curly hair on top— you’ll see his teeth from here.” The way her lips curled up at the statement tells me that he must be hot.

Following suit, I lean up onto my toes, just in time to see him laughing at whoever he’s with. Oh, he does have nice teeth. The sparkle of his tongue ring as he laughs. I don’t think anybody would deny that he’s hot.

“How many of them are there?”

“There’s four of them in the band,” she tells me, glancing around. “Oh! That’s the drummer.” Pointing to this taller dude, long curly hair with half of it tied up. I can see his arm muscles flex as he stretches his arms out. Her voice pipes up again, “I don’t see the guitarist anywhere, but I’ll point him out if I find him.”

The two of us both grabbed fresh drinks, sticking together through the night since Georgia abandoned me. Giggling about the people here and trying to avoid eye contact with every attractive man who passed us.

I learned that she was just visiting and had never been to Vegas before. She’s from some small town in Oklahoma, apparently. Drove all the way here for this one band's show, which seems crazy to me. But the fangirl life will take you all over the world if you let it.

Neither of us really anticipated anything coming out of this after-party; we were just excited to share Instagrams with each other. Typically, not like me, but three drinks in, it sounded great. Plus, I think we’d get along sober. That could be the alcohol talking, but who knows?

“How are you?” A deeper voice says, making my head turn. I realize that that drummer has his arm draped around my newly claimed friend for the evening. Finally, I get a better look at him, up close and personal.

A few tattoos are scattered across his arms, and his black shirt is fitted, which prevents him from hiding the fact that he’s in good shape with the way his arms fill out the sleeves.

“Hi, um, I’m great,” she spits out nervously. “How are you?”

I can see the quiet laugh as he looks at her. “I’m fantastic. What’s your name?”

“Ruby,” her voice is so tiny. If she only knew I was silently trying to cheer her on.

He pulls her into his side, muttering, “Ruby. That’s a pretty name.” he pauses. “Makes sense for such a pretty girl.”

I could practically see her legs go limp at the compliment. Her eyes never leave him, but he looks over at me.

“Sorry, I didn’t get your name,” he says to me.

I sip my drink. “It’s Rory.”

“Well, do you mind if I borrow your friend for a moment?”

Winking at her. “Be my guest.” Her eyes widened at me again, and I just mouthed, ‘DM me later. I’ll find you.’ Which I watch her frantically nod at.

Plopping down onto a couch, I slide my phone out to scroll through Instagram while I sip on this drink. Looking through Ruby’s page, as one would, I can’t help but notice how cute she is. Her red hair is always perfectly curled, and the way she usually dresses is way more soft and feminine than I would have expected. Clicking on her following list to see if we follow any of the same people.

She likes a few of the same bands and clothing stores that I do, but I keep scrolling. Recognizing the drummer’s hair in his profile pic, I click on it.

‘Danny Wagner’

‘Drummer for @/insidious’

His feed is full of overly edited photos of him playing on stage, which isn’t shocking given the genre of music they play. I can’t deny that the aesthetic isn’t lovely.

Before I can creep further, I can’t help but notice that the couple sitting next to me on this couch is getting a little too handsy for my liking.

I excused myself before I was genuinely intruding on a private moment. I take the last swig of my drink and go to throw the can away. I uncomfortably made my way back into the kitchen and set it on the counter, which has turned into a drink graveyard at this rate.

I need to pee. Scanning the apartment, which is rather large, to be fair, I see the hallway where the bathroom must be—at least one of them.

I push my way through everybody, and now the bulk of them are drunk, so the body heat is absurd. It only takes a minute to get there, but when I open the door, I am graced with the visual of a girl bent over the sink.

“Oh!” I yelped, but given how quickly I pulled the door shut, I don’t think they even noticed. Jesus Christ.

Turning around to try and see if there’s another bathroom hidden somewhere, I immediately smack into someone. I feel the beer dripping down my legs before I even open my eyes. Fuck.

“Woah,” his raspy voice lets out. “You okay there, babe?”

My eyes slowly move up, noticing the way his shirt is practically entirely open, with tattoos peeking out from his jeans. His hand grabs my arm as I look up, and our eyes finally meet.

“Oh,” I choke out. “My legs took the brunt of it, I think.” His hair is long, past his shoulders, but I’m distracted by his lips when he smirks at me.

“There’s another bathroom— here I’ll show you,” he says, his fingers wrapping around my wrist before he turns around. Pulling me with him through the hall and into a bedroom. He pushes open the door, and thankfully, there’s nobody fucking in this one.

“You’re a lifesaver,” I blurt out. My head turned at the sounds of people getting closer to the door. My hand grabbed him this time, pulling him into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. “Sorry, can you just block the door for a minute?”

That fucking smirk again.

He flips the lock on the doorknob, looking back at me, “Is that all?”

I stare at him for a minute, his eyes moving from my lips back up to my line of sight. The bathroom light makes it easier actually to see him. He’s ..pretty. His facial structure is so strong but delicate. A small hoop in his nose, which somehow fit him so perfectly. The way his lips honestly look like they were made to be kissed, plump and soft, I can just tell.

“Maybe,” I whisper, taking a step closer. “I did make you spill your drink..”

“That you did.” his eyes hooded, but I could see how dilated his pupils were. Oh, he’s into this.

Sober me would never be in this position. But drunk me is really enjoying how this man is absolutely dying over me being slightly flirty.

He moves in front of me, setting his drink on the counter, his hands on either side of me. He’s so close I can smell the alcohol on him mixed with whatever cologne he wears.

“Let me help you,” he whispers. His hand pats the counter. “Sit.”

I push myself up onto the counter, watching him open cabinets until he finds some towels. Wetting the corner of one, squatting down in front of me, and dragging the towel over the shiny drip lines on my calves.

“You don’t strike me as the kinda girl who comes to these parties,” he says, glancing up at me. Fuck me.

I let out a laugh. “Unfortunately, I end up at these more than I’d like to admit.”

“How’d it take me so long to run into you?” He asks, hardly paying attention to what he’s doing.

“Cute,” I let out under my breath.

He winks, which is horrific given how hot he is, basically on his knees in front of me, muttering, “Glad you think so.”

His hand runs over my calves gently, and I watch the goosebumps flood my thighs. Giggling at the feeling until his hand slides up, and he grips just above my knee. No amount of alcohol could help me now.

“What’s your name?” I choke out.

His hand stays on my thigh as he stands up. He tells me quietly, “Jake.”

Leaning in closer, his nose almost touching mine. I can’t help but look at his lips; they’re right there. All I have to do is—

“And you are?” He whispers, and I can feel his breath against my lips.

Something in me finally clicked, or the last drink finally hit when I whispered back, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

My lips press into his hastily. My hands hold the sides of his neck as his hand is sliding up my thigh. A little groan sneaks out of me, feeling him smile against my lips.

“That’s all it takes, baby?” He teases, his voice laced with a sultry tone. “I bet you’d sound pretty screaming my name.”

“Humble of you,” I giggle quietly.

His fingers slipped underneath my shorts slightly, bunching them up a little. Watching his eyes drop to my lips and then back up, mumbling, “I’d say it’s working for you, though.”

“Mmm,” I hum back, my arms draping around his shoulders. “I don’t know about that, Jake.”

His other hand grabs my jaw, tilting my head back to look at him, mumbling, “You really wanna play that game with me?”

A slight smirk creeps onto my face before I tug him into me, and my tongue traces his bottom lip until he lets me in. Honestly, I’m a little surprised he didn’t go for it first. His fingers pressed into the nape of my neck, making sure I couldn’t move away from him. He pushes my legs apart, moving closer to me, but two can play this game.

Lifting my legs and locking them around his hips, I pull back to see his reaction. His jaw dropped when he watched our bodies get closer, and he may as well have drooled.

“What are you trying to do here, baby?” He mumbles, his hands grabbing my waist and pulling me into him— lifting me off the counter, feeling his hands holding my ass. Smooth. He kisses me gently before whispers, “If you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is say the word.”

My back hits the door, and his lips are against mine, but this kiss feels harsher, more desperate. It’s dreadful that I’m enjoying it this much. Pulling his bottom lip in gently with my teeth, his chest rising and falling a bit more obviously. I mumble out, “You like that?”

“Fuck,” he groans.

I grab his chin tilting it to look at me, whispering, “Sounds like you want me to fuck you, huh?” I’ve never been a shy girl when it comes to these situations, but the alcohol is doing wonders for my confidence right now.

His lips attach to my neck before I can even think, pressing wet, rough kisses down the side of it—so why not make a show of it?

My hips shift against him, relieving myself slightly but feeling him, and a small moan falls out of me. He carefully bites at me, not hard, but enough to send a chill down my spine.

He absolutely has to be insane in bed. I smile against him at the thought, and knowing that I could have my chance to find out makes my thigh tighten around him. His lips move down to my collarbone, and all I can think of is how badly I wish we weren’t in a bathroom right now. Littering kisses wherever he can get to, mumbling into me, “Mmm, baby.”

My legs shifting against him, he lets me stand, but keeping me pinned against the door. His hands hold my waist until he’s playing with the button of my shorts, staring me down, waiting for the right moment to do it finally.

I slide one of my hands up his chest, feeling the cool metal of his necklace, holding it carefully. Pulling him in by the necklace in my hand, I stare at him as he realizes that I’m in control– the look in his eyes is delicious. His forehead pressed against mine, I lean in and hover just over his lips for a painfully long minute before I finally give in, whispering, “Fuck me, Jake.”

His lips crash into mine, and the button on my shorts is undone in the same breath. As his hand is about to slip in, I jump.

“Rory! Are you in there?!” Georgia’s panicked voice barreled through the door, followed by rapid knocking. “Please, oh my god, please be in there.”

My face flushes as he stares at me, waiting for me to confirm if it’s me or not. I turn my head to the side and holler back, “Yes, sorry. I’ll be right there.”

His hand pulls back, and his arms fold over his chest as he watches me panic. Buttoning my shorts, I look in the mirror to fix my hair quickly. Glancing back over to him, his eyebrows rise as he shifts his eyes from me to the door.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I spit out, unlocking the door carefully so Georgia doesn’t just barge in.

“Go ahead,” he says, holding my stare for a beat. Once I turned to open the door, he let out, “It was nice to meet you, Rory.”

A chill runs down my spine as it processes, but I open the door, quickly slipping out in hopes that Georgia didn’t see him. Her eyes gave it away that she did. Leaning into me as we walked out of the bedroom, she whispered, “Who was that?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Masterpost

Chapter Two

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