#sam gvf fanfic
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samkiszkasfacialhair · 2 months ago
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Choose the Road (Masterlist)
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Between seas, galaxies, and moons.
I truly was lucky.
I stepped on the same land,
and dreamed under the same stars,
as you.
Pairing: Sam Kiszka and Female Reader
Summary: A coming of age story about Sam Kiszka’s first love.
Warnings: Warnings will be posted with each chapter.
Word Count: (Entire fic) 39k
Chapter 1:
Chapter 2:
Chapter 3:
Chapter 4:
Chapter 5:
Chapter 6:
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obetrolncocktails · 6 months ago
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Posting Karma Sutra (Remastered) part 1 tonight!
Who would like to be tagged?
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builtbybrokenbells · 7 months ago
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Little Miss Sunshine | JTK
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Amidst a night of high emotion, one single confession turns your whole world upside down, making you realize that you had a certain someone misunderstood all along.
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Word count: 26k (oops)
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f&m receiving), (sort of) face fucking, cum play, rough sex, also sweet sex, katoptronophilia (mirror sex), mentions/phrases pertaining to free use kink, dom/sub, possessiveness, praise, degradation, name calling, impact play, biting, sir kink, mentions of masturbation (f&m), multiple orgasm (m&f), simultaneous orgasm, overstimulation, begging, lots of dirty talk, lots of making out, dry humping, angst, unrequited feelings, feelings of not being good enough/rejection, overthinking, emotional talks, asshole Jake, drunk confessions, arguing, awkward small talk/conversations, fighting, non-sexual name calling, fluff, drinking, smoking, swearing, crying, sorry if i miss any!
heard you guys wanted some grumpy x sunshine love (this is also kind of bordering enemies to lovers) 🤔 also, this picture is EXACTLY what I picture Jake as in this fic. I was gonna wait to post but I was too excited to work on some other stuff coming very soon 😉. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (very lightly edited)
“And then I said to him, try that shit around here, and you’ll see how it works out for you.” The tall blonde man spoke, his tone grating and growing more annoying by the second. He had an irritating smile on his lips as he continued trying his best to impress you with another, mind-numbing story.
“Right,” you nodded, swirling your straw around your drink, trying to sound more interested than you actually were. As you tried to think of something to say, you sucked a sharp breath in through your teeth, letting your eyes dart around the room in search of a familiar face. “I’m sure he kept to himself after that.” You finally replied, trying to up the ante and lessen the impact of your monotone response.
“Yeah, I love messing with the new guys at work. Always keeps them on their toes.” He said, taking a sip of his beer as he looked over your face. As he lowered the bottle from his lips, he seemed to lean even closer than he already was, making you force yourself backwards.
You had no idea how you found yourself in the situation, stuck in conversation with a mediocre man about his mediocre job (which you still weren’t quite sure what it even was) and desperate to find a quick way out. You had come to the stupid party for one reason, and so far, you hadn’t seen him once, despite it being hosted at his own house. As you scanned the crowd for the millionth time, you found yourself growing more impatient than you already were. Your foot tapped against the ground as you checked your watch, wondering if you were already in too deep or if you could slide out the front door without being noticed.
Then, a wave of relief washed over you as you caught sight of a familiar head of brown hair. You threw back the last of your drink, placing the empty cup on the table as you scrambled to refill it with the premixed bottle you brought in your bag. You fumbled with the cap you’d screwed on too tight while listening to the man across from you ramble about an office staff party he’d attended last week, eventually prying it from the top of the juice jug after a moment's struggle. You tipped it forward, filling the solo cup and snatching it off the table after you shoved the jug back in your bag.
You had never seen your best friend's house so full; people were crowding the hallways, nearly standing on top of each other as they tried to force their way into the rooms overflowing with bodies. The music was astonishingly loud, and you definitely weren’t drunk enough to enjoy it yet. Worse than that, you barely recognized a single face in the crowd, and you were desperate to find someone you knew.
“Anyway, it was nice getting to know you, Johnny. I see Sam over there, so I better go say hi.” You forced a blinding smile, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder as you tried to map out the best way around him.
“J-Johnny?” He asked, confusion written all over his face. “My name is Jimmy.” He corrected, his ego bruised at your lack of interest in him.
“Oh, shit.” You swallowed back an awkward laugh, biting down on the inside of your lip as you shuffled to the side. “Jimmy, Johnny… same thing, really. See you around?” You offered, knowing there was no way you would ever allow yourself to be alone with him again, unless you spent days sleepless and were desperate to find something that would lull your mind and force your eyes shut.
You didn’t wait for a response, instead pushing through the crowd as quickly as possible so you didn’t lose sight of your target. With your drink clenched tightly to your chest, you fought your way through the swarm of bodies that seemed keen on blocking the doorway. You extended your arm outward, your fingers brushing over the thin material of Sam’s long sleeved shirt as you grabbed onto his shoulder. His head whipped around, wondering who was touching him and why they were in such a panic to catch his attention. When his eyes landed on you, a blinding smile lit up his face.
“Hey, I was looking for you! Didn’t think you’d make it, Knockout.” He stopped in his tracks, completely changing course and turning towards you. He took a step in your direction, extending his arms outwards and engulfing you in a hug. You breathed a sigh of relief, letting the scent of his familiar cologne wrap you in an embrace warmer than the one his arms provided.
“I’m the guest of honor, ‘course I made it.” You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him slightly. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”
“You’re always the guest of honor at my house.” He grinned, letting his hand linger over your back as he looked over your face. You noticed right off the bat that he reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glazed over, soft and dark as his expression spoke loudly of all you needed to know. He was hammered, and you were very late to the party. “And I think knockout is fitting. A ten who will knock me on my ass if I say the wrong thing.”
“I’d like to be equated to more than a ‘ten’ with a bad temper.” You laughed, slouching down slightly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
“I wouldn’t call it a bad temper… more or less a ‘fuck around and find out’ type of person.” He explained further, pulling you tightly into his side as he began to weave through the crowd.
“Yeah, I guess that fits.” You hummed an agreement, happy that you were safely by his side so you no longer had to wander aimlessly and get caught in conversation with people you didn’t know.
“It’s way more crowded than I thought it would be.” Sam noted, talking loud enough so you could hear him over the boom of voices and music.
“Yeah, I certainly wasn’t expecting this.” You laughed, honest about your feelings on the matter. When he invited you, he failed to mention that he invited the entire city of Nashville to the party alongside you.
“Yeah, guess I overestimated the size of the place.” He chuckled. “We’re hanging out downstairs, less crowded and a bit more comfortable.” He said, leading you around the corner to the stairwell. There were a few people standing in the way of the stairs, but they dispersed pretty quickly when they realized the two of you were trying to make your way through.
Sam was your best friend, and had been for years. You met not long after he moved to the city, when you were still in college and keen to the party lifestyle. Through mutual friends, you found yourself sitting in front of him at an album release party for a band that no longer existed, sharing your sentiments about the mediocre music and your love of tequila. From there, the two of you formed a fast friendship, finding you had more in common than a knack for drinking and appreciation for music. You weren’t expecting such a strong relationship to come from a drunken night orchestrated by friends who couldn’t have cared less about you, but you were incredibly grateful that you decided to go.
Since then, you and Sam did nearly everything together when he wasn’t gone on tour. Once you graduated, you found that you lost contact with most people from your university days, but it never seemed to bother you, because Sam was always around to do that, instead. When you were holed up in your house, working from your laptop and too busy to go anywhere, Sam sat beside you, commenting on anything and everything that came to mind. You guys frequented the bars around town, and got lunch when your schedules permitted. Oftentimes, you found yourself dozing off on his couch after a movie night with no intent of staying the night and waking up the next morning with a blanket over you and a pillow under your head.
He was the best friend you’d ever had, and you were thankful for his love every single day. You loved him so much that you couldn’t even refuse his invitations to parties where you knew nobody but him and his brothers, and most times you were glad you went, just so you had another memory to share with him. That night was no different; he was throwing a party just for the sake of it, inviting friends he’d made in the industry and drinking for the sake of being drunk. When he asked you to come, you gave a hesitant reply, knowing that you were bound to be awkwardly standing amongst a swarm of strangers. Within a few days, he’d convinced you it was alright, and eventually you gave in.
That afternoon, you spent an extra amount of time making yourself look nice. You went out the day before and got your hair touched up, and you even bought a new dress. You were feeling a little down, finding yourself in quite the romantic draught that worsened your loneliness as time went on. When you expressed such feelings to Sam, he seemed to make it a point to set you up with some of his company and promised that tonight would end the embarrassingly long bout of involuntary abstinence. Although you were nervous about his choice of company for you, you opened yourself up to the idea, knowing that you wouldn’t have much luck on your own.
It wasn’t that you were deliberately choosing to abstain from dating, but you were having a particularly hard time finding anyone who met your standards and more importantly, your needs. You were growing sick and tired of modern dating, and despised dating apps and all that came along with them. You weren’t in search of a hookup, and you weren’t looking for marriage tomorrow. You wanted someone who you could have fun with, to get to know without it being overwhelming and too much too fast. You wanted someone suitable for your mid-twenties; exciting, compatible, and loyal. Unfortunately, that seemed to be quite hard to come by.
You knew you had a lot to offer. You were kind, funny, and sometimes too nice for your own good. At the same time, you didn’t put up with any bullshit, which made it incredibly hard to open yourself up to someone. You could easily tell when someone only wanted sex, and people like Johnny (or Jimmy; whatever the hell his name was) made it abundantly clear. His lack of self-awareness and his commitment to getting closer to you despite there being no invitation to do so turned you off of him from the minute he began to speak.
On the other hand, because of your guard being up, oftentimes you read a little too much into the situation and ruined things before they could even begin. You were at an impasse, and such a large one that you enlisted Sam’s help to find you a suitor. You were an overly nice person who’d been burned too many times, and you were (as some would say) picky. You barely trusted his judgment, but you figured that you would at least try and open yourself up to his ideas, because you certainly weren’t getting anywhere by yourself.
“You know, I figured that tonight might be a good night for you and Jake to get to know each other.” Sam stated, nearing the bottom of the stairs.
“Jake?” You asked, confused as you followed behind him. You pulled down the skirt of your tight fitting dress, carefully stepping down on the cool wooden floor as you passed the bottom step. “Like, your brother who’s barely given me any inclination that he knows I exist?” You asked, bewildered that Sam would even suggest that. “And when he does, he looks like he’d rather be with anyone else rather than with me?”
“Oh, come on. That’s not true.” Sam chuckled, turning back to face you now that you were on solid ground. The basement was much less crowded than the upstairs, just like Sam had told you. It was nice, allowing you to actually sort out your thoughts before your head was pulled into another direction.
“It is so!” You laughed, taking his response with a grain of salt. You didn’t have complete certainty that Jake felt that way about you, but he definitely didn’t make it a point to try and be friendly. “I get along so well with Josh and Danny, and then there’s him. He never talks to me, and he basically ignores me when I speak first. When he does answer, it’s like, one or two words, and never any kind of emotion. I don’t think he likes me, and that’s fine, but I definitely don’t think we should ‘get to know each other’.”
“The other day you guys talked about the weather!” Sam argued his point, only making you roll your eyes.
“Yeah, the weather, Sam. You know, like the most basic of small talk that exists?”
“He seemed really passionate about the sun.” Sam shrugged, reaching out and placing a hand on your back. “Just give it a shot. You never know, right?”
“Sam, if that’s who you’re trying to set me up with, you’ve officially gone insane.” You muttered, letting him guide you towards the group of people huddled by his large arrangement instruments.
“Not insane, and I mean it, Y/N. I think you guys would really get along if you got past the weather. It’s not that you don’t like each other, you’ve just never tried that hard, and neither has he.”
“Yeah, because I’m pretty sure he hates me!” You whisper-shouted, nearing the chattering crowd.
“That’s a strong word,” Sam said, clearly trying to put an end to the argument. “Besides, I already asked him to talk to you tonight, so I guess there’s no real way out of it.” He shrugged, a sly smile forming on his lips as he began to walk away from you.
“Sam!” You exploded, reaching forward and grabbing his hand to hold him in place. “Why would you do that? Now he’s going to feel pressured into talking to me!”
“Listen, Y/N.” he sighed, his lips still holding a ghost of a smile. “Jake won’t feel pressured into talking to you. If he really doesn’t want to, he won’t. Jake does not hate you, and Jake knows you exist. He’s just not the most outgoing. Once he’s out of his shell, I promise you’ll understand what I mean.” You could tell that Sam was genuine in his response, much different to the lighthearted jokes that he spewed prior. You didn’t want to be the bad guy and tell him that you thought his brother was an asshole, so instead you shifted uncomfortably under his strong gaze and gave a single nod of your head.
If Sam wanted you to try so bad, you would, but only because Sam was your best friend.
In truth, it wasn’t like you never thought of Jake in that way. In fact, you thought about it more often than you cared to admit, but you would have been caught dead before confessing it aloud. Most of the fantasies of Jake were contained within your bedroom walls, in the late hours of the night and earliest hours of the morning, and it had little to do with conversing with him and certainly not anything romantic.
Jake was attractive, and that was undeniable; he drew attention from the crowd the minute he walked in the room, and eyes never strayed from him until the moment he walked out. His long hair and his beautiful brown eyes made for a deadly combination, and the slight rasp to his tone when he spoke low and slow sent a rush of emotion straight to the pit of your stomach. The pinkness of his lips, especially when they glistened after his tongue ran over the bottom one, was delicious, and you were all but ignorant to that. He did not talk often, not nearly as much as his company, but when he did, it was always worth listening to, whether it was a joke or something insightful.
Jake's physical appearance had little to do with your apprehensions. If anything, it made you more willing to try out what Sam was asking of you. Although he’d never been outright mean to you, Jake had solidified his impression in your mind over the years; curt, dry, and a little judgemental. His micro expressions that seemed to go unnoticed by everyone else spoke louder than words to you, and he never seemed like he wanted to interact with you at all. He sat on the opposite side of the room from you, avoided your group-pointed topics and questions, avoided being alone with you at all costs, and got out of every one on one conversation with you as fast as he could.
Oftentimes you felt like he was watching you, studying you so he could find something he didn’t like, so then he could be crude and unapologetic about it. His eyes always seemed to land on you as the nights dragged on, and the drunker he got, the more often he stared, but he never spoke. If he wasn’t so attractive, his actions may have been more off putting than curious to you, but even if you felt like he hated you, you definitely didn’t mind his attention being on you.
He was more gruff than Sam and Josh combined, and his resting expression was not the most inviting. He joked with his brothers, but not you directly. Although, whenever he said something to gain a laugh, his eyes always flickered to you, as if he was looking to see if you thought he was funny, too. He was a mystery, but not one you wanted to solve. Every interaction with him led you to believe he was not a fan of you, and every time you tried to analyze it, you only ever found yourself believing it ran even deeper than that.
Still, he was fucking hot, and you hated yourself for being so attracted to someone who couldn’t care less about you.
You followed behind Sam, your cheeks red as you bargained with your embarrassment over the situation. What did Sam actually say to Jake? Was it as innocent as he framed it, or did it go beyond the minimal information he gave you? You weren’t sure you wanted to know, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to speak to Jake at all. In your years of friendship with Sam and the hundreds of times you had been around him, he had never been nice, and you were fairly certain he wouldn’t start now.
You wanted to believe Sam’s explanation of Jake, that he was just a tough nut to crack and you had never been fully committed to knowing him, but it just didn’t seem to check out. You were sure by now, Jake would have shown some idea that he didn’t mind you, or at least that he didn’t hate you, but there was nothing.
Well, except for one small little thing, but it was so long ago that you were sure he’d long forgotten about it.
“Woah, sorry!” Jake exclaimed as the door swung itself open. He took a step back, recoiling from the scene as if he’d just walked in on something explicit and was trying to avoid the awkwardness.
“No, it’s okay.” You muttered, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath. This interaction was the last thing you wanted to experience in such a state, and you could only look forward to his standoffish nature worsening your already solemn state.
You had changed from your party clothes, the nice new jeans and shirt your sister had bought you for your birthday, which was the whole reason Sam threw you the damn party in the first place. You were in shorts and a t-shirt that hung just above your knees, your face tired and tear-stained as you made a quick move to wipe the dampness from your cheeks. “S’all good, Jake. You can have the bathroom.” You spoke again, a little clearer. The rasp of sadness in your tone was impossible to ignore, and even in his drunken state, he seemed to pick up on it.
You hated your birthday, and you hated that Sam insisted on throwing you a party for it. You wanted to leave, to go home after seeing everyone having such a great time while you were so miserable, but you were too drunk to drive and you would have felt terrible for abandoning Sam when he’d worked so hard to plan this all for you. The gathering was small, filled with people you loved dearly, and drinks were plentiful. Sam went all out with food, decorations, and dessert. You’d never had such an extravagant cake in your life, and you owed him everything for caring about you so much. You were so ashamed of your misery that you felt the need to hide in the bathroom while you cried, just so you didn’t hurt his feelings.
You weren’t sad because of the party, or even because of your birthday in itself. You were upset about the fact that no matter how hard you tried to have fun, something always happened that seemed to ruin the whole day, and this time was no different.
“You okay, Y/N?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to read the situation. You barely looked up at him, feeling another wave of tears well in your eyes. He smelled so distinctly of whiskey, and his normal tough exterior slackened into something you could almost relate to relaxed.
“Yeah, fine.” You nodded, taking a step towards the doorway and expecting him to recoil when you neared him.
“Clearly not, sweetheart.” The pet name struck you as odd, the confusion growing even worse as he stepped in front of you to stop your attempt at escaping. “You’re crying, up here all alone on your birthday. Talk to me.” You finally looked up to meet his face, noticing your body flood with an unfamiliar feeling. There was a type of care in his face that you had never seen from him before, and it made your entire body raise with goosebumps.
“I… I’m alright, I guess.” You said, trying to find a way around confessing your sorrows to him.
“Can I come in?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, sure.” You breathed, nodding and stepping backwards out of his way. Once he was inside the room, he closed the door quietly, leaning against it as he casted his gaze back in your direction. Now that you were locked in a room with him, the smell of alcohol became all the more apparent, and it seemed to be mixed with a sweet scent of an unfamiliar cologne.
“What’s going on?” He asked, standing stagnant by the door as if he was fearful of coming any closer.
“It’s a long story, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. It’s over now.” You shrugged, raising your hand to your face to wipe your face clean of the sadness.
“Is it that guy you were with last time you were here?” He asked, hitting the nail straight on the head without even trying.
“Uh, yeah.” You nodded, surprised he even cared to notice you had company the last time you were around him. Jake had never been overly concerned with your presence, and you barely expected him to care enough to ask if you were alright. “Got in a fight before I came. Said he didn’t have time to come to my ‘stupid birthday party’ with my ‘stupid friends’.” You air quoted the phrases he used, sickened that you even let yourself spend time with someone who thought so little about the people you loved so dearly. “But he wasn’t too busy to party without me, and certainly didn’t mind locking lips with some other girl at the bar.” You explained, remembering the painful picture one of his friends sent through to you. You appreciated the fact that someone was willing to tell you about it, but it didn’t seem to make it hurt any less.
His lips pressed together tightly, the corners turned down into a frown as he digested the information you threw his way. For a second, he seemed as though he wanted to speak, but not long after that he silenced himself before he could get the words out. He swallowed thickly, toying with the ring on his middle finger as he tried his best to think of a response. Eventually, he took a deep breath and spoke words you never expected to hear from him.
“You are far too special to be caught up on someone like that, Y/N.” His tone was strong, leaving no room for doubt that he meant it. “I know it hurts right now, but you have to know that.”
“Thank you, Jake.” You said, your indifference for him melting away momentarily.
“Is it alright if I hug you?” He asked, carefully scanning your face. “Seems like you need it.”
“O-oh,” you breathed, shocked at his question. “Yeah, s’pose I do.” You let out a nervous chuckle. At that, all hesitation left his body and he stepped towards you. Carefully, he pulled you into his arms, his hold firm and the warmth of his body soothing. You let your head rest on his shoulder, trying to ignore the strangeness of the moment and enjoy the comfort. With your face buried in his button-up shirt, you finally had the chance to breathe in the cologne you had only previously caught a faint hint of. It was deep, woodsy and ambery, and it was unfortunately one of the most pleasant things you’d ever experienced.
You could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong as he held you close to him. One hand rested on the back of your head, an extra touch of warmth within his already strange actions. You had never been so close to Jake before, and for some strange reason, you never wanted to let go of him. From the minute he touched you, things seemed okay again, like nothing in the whole world could hurt you so long as he was right beside you.
Just when you felt yourself slipping out of the state of sadness, he pulled away. You found yourself mourning the loss of his touch, sad for a whole new reason as his body parted from yours. He didn’t completely abandon you, though. He let one hand rest on your arm as he used his other to wipe your tears away from your cheeks. With a soft smile, he spoke again.
“Don’t waste your tears on him, sweetheart. When it starts to hurt a little less, you should thank him for it, ‘cause it means someone as great as you won’t be stuck with someone like him.” He paused, ensuring you understood him before he continued. “Now, put a smile on that pretty face and come back downstairs. It’s your day, your friends are down there, and we want you to have a good night. Don’t let him win.”
You thought that maybe after such a sweet moment shared between the two of you, the dynamic might change, that he would warm up to you and a friendship would blossom. Thinking back on your hopefulness, you wanted to laugh in your own face. If anything, after the bathroom escapade, he grew even more distant. He stopped looking at you as often, avoiding your eyes when you looked his way and refusing to even let a chuckle slip when you spewed a joke. His already curt responses grew even shorter, and even less friendly. All of the affection he shared with you disappeared, and he acted as if it never happened at all.
You were ridiculous for expecting change, but disappointed still when you understood that he probably didn’t remember the interaction between you. He was drunk, and so were you, and it didn’t mean anything.
Still, no matter how hard you tried to believe it, it still fucking sucked.
You did everything in your power to get that side of him to surface again, but it only seemed to worsen his withdrawl. The nicer you were to him, the more he pulled away. So, eventually you stopped completely. You stopped going out of your way to build a relationship with him, because it was abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in it.
Funny thing is, when you started pulling away, he began to try.
A few weeks after you stopped talking, he went out of his way to ask you how you were. He lingered in rooms after everyone left, trying to remain inconspicuous as he waited for you to speak to him. His eyes landed on you more often than not, watching you carefully as you spoke to everyone else, waiting to see if you would laugh at his jokes. It was as if he missed you talking to him, even if he was the reason you distanced yourself in the first place.
He was so confusing, and you knew it was best to stay out of it. Even if you did think he was ridiculously attractive, he clearly had no clue how to express himself or any emotion whatsoever. The only thing you regularly saw from him was undesirable personality traits, indifference and annoyance most often, and anger at other times. You knew it wasn’t good for you, that you should stay away because you couldn’t get involved with someone so cold, and you did the best you could. Still, you would be the first to volunteer to kiss that damned scowl off his face, and happy to let him take his anger out on you.
The fact that Sam ever thought the two of you would work was absolutely blasphemous, but if Sam wanted you to try, you would at least give it another shot. Even if it was half-assed, you could still say you gave it your all, and he’d probably believe you.
Sam took one of the two available seats on the couches, far away from you and next to Josh. You felt a stab of pain in your chest as you realized he did so for a specific reason. The only seat left in the room was next to Jake, and as you began to approach, you feared he might get up and walk away as soon as your ass touched the cushion. Keeping your body rigid, you stepped over Danny’s long legs, extended outwards as he leaned back in the couch. You carefully stood between the two, letting the strap of your bag fall from your shoulder and it landed in front of you on the floor. As you sat down, you tucked the bag neatly behind your legs and against the frame of the couch. You let out a small breath of relief, noticing Jake didn’t change his stature at all as you took a seat.
‘Step one: complete.’ You thought to yourself, sipping at your drink to calm your nerves.
How ridiculous it seemed to consider sitting next to Jake a victory. The irony only grew as you remembered that Sam thought the two of you would make a good couple.
Jake had an acoustic guitar sat in his lap, tentatively plucking at the strings as he sat on the very edge of the cushion. You couldn’t help but stare, finding his face devoid of any negative emotion almost alluring. He was so pretty when he focused, the way his hair hung in his face and his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. You strained to hear the light sounds coming from the strings, trying your best to ignore the booming music upstairs in hopes to recognize the tune he was playing. You watched as the tips of his fingers danced over the fretboard, delicate and calculated in every move they made.
Then, the soft hum stopped and his finger stretched across the fretboard to stop any lingering resonance. Your eyes flickered from his hand to his face, seeing that he was already looking at you. Your cheeks burned red as you understood he noticed your staring, and you swallowed back an awkward laugh.
“Hey, Jake.” You forced the greeting through your teeth, flashing a smile in his direction in hopes that the sweetness would deter his usual grumpiness with you.
“Hi.” He responded, his eyes trailing down to the solo cup in your hand. His greeting was short, but you counted it as a victory. Some nights, he never bothered to reciprocate at all, shooting you a pained look instead. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to do or what to say. It was uncomfortable, but you forced the negative thoughts from your head and tried your best to think of a conversation starter. When it was clear he would not be the one to initiate, you spoke again.
“What song was that?”
“Who’ll Stop The Rain.” He replied, his stony expression remaining strong as he looked in your direction.
“CCR,” you nodded, embarrassed you couldn’t pick out the tune from memory. “My dad was a big fan of John Fogerty. Used to put us to sleep with the recordings from Royal Albert Hall.”
“Yeah, pretty good stuff.” Jake nodded, slow and stiff as if he would rather be anywhere other than with you. You took in a long breath through your nose, hoping that you could ease the painful tension between the two of you, but knowing it wouldn’t never happen unless he was willing to try, too.
“Yeah, absolutely.” You nodded too, taking a long sip from your cup.
“What’s your favourite song from them?” He asked, the words almost sounding strained as he asked the question. You fought back an eye roll, thinking it was absolutely ridiculous that he was troubled just to speak to you.
“Green River.” You answered, trying to be more enthusiastic than he was. You were happy he asked the question at all, considering it was probably the first thing he’d ever asked in attempt to get to know you, but his reluctance still stung.
“I like that one, too.” He said, his tone gruff but more friendly than it had ever been (save for the off night in the bathroom), even if the classification was a stretch. Then, he turned his head back towards the guitar, cutting the conversation short. You couldn’t help but feel a dissatisfaction with his actions, wondering why he couldn’t even pretend to enjoy a conversation with you, but you didn’t let it linger for too long.
You let out a sigh, turning your head to the other side of you, seeing Daniel’s smiling face. It was refreshing, and it was a relief to see his expression did not fade as soon as he looked your way. His arm was slung over the back of the couch behind you, his ankles crossed and a beer bottle clutched tightly in his hand. You figured he was an easier target, and a much more enjoyable way to spend your time.
“Hello, Daniel.” You gave him a warm smile as you spoke.
“Was wondering when you’d get here, K.O.” He said, flashing you a toothy smile to match your own.
“What did I tell you guys about calling me that!” You scolded, your tone light and your eyes shining with joy to tell him you didn’t really care all that much.
“If the shoe fits.” He shrugged, chuckling as he took a sip from his bottle. “What have you been up to? Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“I was away for a little while for work, actually.” You said, knowing you couldn’t get too much into it.
“You were away? That’s never good to hear.” He said, a slight grimace on his face. He was right; in social work, time spent away from your office usually meant something bad.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t anything major. They have a shortage of people a few towns over, so I volunteered to fill in for a little while until they could hire someone. I handled a few cases, but it was mostly just to do some paperwork so they didn’t get overwhelmed. I got back a few days ago.”
“You’re a saint for doing a job like that, you know.” He said, his words genuine and prompting a smile on your lips.
“It’s not the easiest job, but I like it.” You explained. “Someone has to stick up for the kids, you know? If their own parents aren’t doing it… then someone has to.”
You could not see it, but Jake’s head was turned as he sat behind you, his ear facing you so he could hear the words you were saying.
“You must be pretty good at it, too. I remember when Sam and I stopped by your office, it was plastered with drawings and colouring pages. Do you keep everything they give to you?”
“Yeah, I do.” You looked down at your hands as a sheepish smile crossed your face. “They always get so excited when they see it up on the walls, so it makes it worth it. Besides, brightens up my day when I see it, too.” You explained, knowing that you had never really thought twice about it; everything any of your clients gifted you was important to you and deserved a spot up on your bulletin board.
Alongside from Sam, your work was the most important thing to you. It was a part of you, and the only reason you and Sam got along so well is because he understood that. Lots of plans were cancelled or rescheduled at the drop of a dime, but he never cared and never made you feel bad about it. Sometimes, you were up at four in the morning, running out the door to the hospital in the early stages of your friendship, but it never deterred him from spending time with you. When you moved to a private company, things grew a little more relaxed and you had a lot more scheduled appointments rather than emergency appointments, but Sam would have stuck around no matter your situation.
“I mean, today someone gave me a yo-yo.” You said, a grin lighting up your face. “I’ve always wanted an excuse to learn those stupid tricks everyone knew how to do in middle school, and now I can.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to see that.” Danny let out a laugh, his shoulders shaking and his eyes crinkled with joy just at the thought of it.
“So what about you? What have you been up to?” You asked, growing tired of talking about you and eager to hear what he’d been up to.
“The same old, really. I went home and visited my family for a few days, so that was nice.” He said, knocking back the last of his drink and grabbing another from the box by his feet.
“That is nice!” You exclaimed, a warm smile encasing your lips. “I know you don’t get to see them all that often, so it must have been really good to go home.”
“It was,” he agreed, nodding at the thought.
“How’s your sister doing? I know she was stressed out about the last semester of school the last time we talked.”
“Good! She passed with no problem, worried about nothing as per usual.” He responded, almost wowed by how much attention you paid to him when he spoke.
“And that girl you were talking to… Sarah?” You asked, nervous you might have gotten the name wrong. He gave a nod, reassuring you that you got it right. “How’s that going?”
“Good! She couldn’t make it tonight, but I think it’s headed somewhere. Hopefully, at least.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was less important to him than it was.
“I’m sure it will. I’m happy for you.” You smiled. Just as he was about to respond, Sam shouted his name from across the table, pulling him in a completely different direction. You didn’t pay much mind to it, settling comfortably back in your seat as Sam resumed an earlier conversation with the boy beside you.
You settled back into your seat, finding yourself content without feeling the need to be caught in conversation. You sipped at your drink, noticing your cheeks begin to turn rosy as the tipsiness started to set in. Your skin was warm, your mind swimming with thoughts that pertained to nothing important. You tucked your foot underneath your knee, relaxing into the position as Sam gave you a reassuring smile across the table. You gave him a small wave in return, finding the mixed drink in your cup taste better the longer you worked at it.
Some time passed, but nothing too interesting ensued. No further words were shared between you and Jake, but you did occasionally find yourself talking across the table with Sam, and a few times you were leaned over close to Danny to hear him over the chattering crowd and loud music. Then, something incredibly familiar reached your ears, the sound soothing as it drifted from the guitar in Jake’s lap and over towards you. The twang was different, a little more calm as he played on the acoustic, but it was still just as good.
Green River.
You turned your head towards him, smiling as you watched his fingers pluck the strings. You bit your tongue, tempted to sing along but knowing it likely wouldn’t help the lingering tension between you and the boy. Your gaze flickered to his face, curious to see his expression as he played the song you very clearly expressed your enjoyment of. To your surprise, he was looking at you, and the usual scowl on his face had softened into an almost smile.
He wanted to know if you liked it, almost excited at the prospect of impressing you with the song.
Perhaps Sam was right, and you hadn’t tried hard enough to get to know him. You weren’t committed enough to getting through the tough exterior, because in that moment, you saw a tiny glimpse of the Jake you saw that night in the bathroom. His eyes were warm, glimmering with curiousity as he continued to strum the tune. Maybe he wasn’t so against knowing you, but rather needed some common ground so he could get his footing.
No matter the reasoning, you could go along with it, because without the cold undertones in his expression, he was a million times more attractive than he’d ever been before. The liquor in your cup was strong, definitely encouraging your thoughts about his pretty face, but as he played a song you remembered from the happiest days of your childhood, it struck something within you that he’d never touched before.
“Sing it.” Jake encouraged, his voice just loud enough for you to hear as he played the intro a second time through. You thought you misheard him, unable to believe he was really initiating such a fun moment that involved both of you, together. Even as you tried to discredit it, his eyes told you otherwise, imploring you to do as he asked.
“Well, take me back down where cool water flow,” you began, knowing your intoxication had everything to do with your courage. You worried that he would change his mind, or regret asking you to do so, but as you finished he played the little riff that followed, a genuine smile beginning to blossom on his lips.
“Let me remember things I love, Lord
Stoppin' at the log where catfish bite
Walkin' along the river road at night
Barefoot girls dancin' in the moonlight.” You sang the verse, growing more comfortable when Sam joined in along the way. By the time you finished the last line, Danny was leaned in close behind you, also belting the lyrics alongside you.
Then, the most shocking part of it all came about when Jake led you back into the second verse. He joined in, happily singing along with the three of you as if it were a completely normal thing for him to do.
“Fuck yeah, Jake!” You exclaimed, seeing his eyes brighten at your drunken cheer. For a single moment, things felt normal. They felt right, with you cheering him on and him trying not to laugh at your antics, like it was meant to be that way all along.
Maybe Sam was right, and the two of you could click well, even after all the time spent ignoring each other.
He led himself into a small guitar solo, seemingly trying to show off as he slammed the pick down on the strings. You clapped along, a blinding smile lighting up your face as you watched him do what he loved most. You couldn’t help but admire how stunning he looked, his pink lips slightly damp from his tongue running over them while he focused. The blush of his cheeks under the lowlight, and his dark lashes casting the tiniest of shadows under his eyes. He was beautiful, and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from him.
You were so immersed in his enigmatic nature that you failed to sing along with the group when the third verse rounded. Stunned and slightly nervous that someone had caught you amidst the impromptu staring contest, you cleared your throat and joined in with the singing, only slightly less enthusiastic. When the song finished, you were breathless and in a mess of jumbled thoughts, but it had nothing to do with the singing you were doing. Before Jake could say anything to you, you downed the last of your drink, reaching into your bag to refill the cup. You knew you would need the courage, especially now that the relationship between you seemed to hit a pivotal moment.
When you straightened back up in your seat, you sipped from the rim of the cup to lower your chances of spilling it all over yourself. Your eyes flickered to the man beside you, but to your dismay, he wasn’t looking at you at all. The smile faded from your lips as you quickly tried to cover up your growing disappointment, wondering if you were an idiot for thinking the two of you might be more comfortable speaking. You waited for a moment, just to see if he would initiate something, but you were met with nothing once again.
You were an idiot, and for more reason than just that. You were ridiculous for believing that he would be interested with you, in all of his blinding beauty and amidst the rockstar lifestyle. He had girls falling at his feet, prettier and with more to offer than you had. You were breaking your own heart by entertaining the feeble idea Sam planted in your mind, and you needed to realize the truth of the matter.
Still, a small fizzle of hope existed within your chest, and you thought you would give it one last shot.
“That was really good, Jake. Thank you for playing it for me.” You said, keeping your tone sweet and the look in your eyes warm despite the blossoming uncertainty in your stomach.
“What? I didn’t play it for you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth at the speed of light, defensive and with little thought put into them. As if he saw the breaking of your heart before his own eyes, he softened slightly, realizing that his words were too harsh, even for his normal brooding self. “I played it for myself, too. I love that song.” He added, hoping that it would lessen the blow. You could tell he only said it to feel like less of an asshole, and it only worsened your already bruised feelings.
You could feel an unfamiliar feeling rising in your chest, one that craved conflict. You thought that if you handed his rudeness back to him, he’d learn his lesson and realize how terrible he’d been to you over the years of knowing him. You wanted a fight, to figure out the real reason behind his dislike for your company, and you needed it now. If he hated you, you wanted him to come clean and say it. You were sick of trying to start a friendship with someone who only ever made you feel like shit about it.
Then, before the accusations could leave your lips, he spoke again, but you would have preferred him not to say anything at all.
“Heard it’s supposed to be really nice out, tomorrow.” He forced the weather forecast through his teeth, rubbing salt into an already lethal wound.
“Perfect,” your lips pulled together tightly, forcing some semblance of a smile as you nodded your head. “You know, we don’t have to talk about the weather every fucking time we speak, Jake.” He seemed to physically recoil from your nasty tone, seemingly never expecting something even slightly vicious to leave your tongue.
“Okay, what else would you like to talk about, Y/N?” He asked, a hint of condescension in his words. You rolled your eyes, long past furious with his blatant rejection of your presence.
“Maybe one of the fifteen other topics I’ve tried to talk about with you?” You offered the alternative like it never crossed his mind at all. “You know what? Nevermind. Doesn’t matter.” You shook your head, understanding you were preparing to fight a losing battle. When it came to anything negative, Jake was always going to come out on top.
“What, did Little Miss Sunshine finally hit her breaking point? Is this the first time you’ve ever been angry, sweetheart? ‘Cause it wouldn’t fuckin’ surprise me.”
“Fuck off, Jake.” You huffed, leaning forward and grabbing your bag from between your legs. “Like I said, fucking forget about it.”
Just as you did so, Danny leaned towards you in an instinctive reaction to someone playfully pushing him by the arm of the couch. His shoulder collided with your back, causing you to lurch towards Jake and at the same time, your full solo cup to slip from your fingers. As you tried to recover from the strong (and irritatingly painful) collision between your back and Danny’s shoulder, you barely noticed the liquid that had spilled from your hands onto the couch, and unluckily, Jake’s leg.
Before you could process all that happened in such a short time, you heard Danny’s profuse apologies from over your shoulder, but not well over the boom of Jake’s voice.
“Christ, Y/N!” He exclaimed, raising the guitar from his lap as he made a move to stand. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Watch what you’re fucking doing, next time!”
His words, equal to a million stabs in the chest, seemed to snap that little rational part of your brain you tried to desperately hold on to when in his company. Instead of an angry outburst, you felt tears well in your eyes, finally fed up with his irrationally irate attitude towards you. You tried to muster an ‘I’m sorry’, but every time the words began to make their way through your throat, your muscles constricted around them. Instead, you grabbed your things, in a hurry to get out of there and never come back. Before you were on your feet, tears spilled over on your cheeks, and your face felt like it was on fire. Your heart was thumping so fast and hard you could feel it in every part of your body, and your throat ached to cry out.
Why didn’t he like you?
What did you do to deserve such miserable treatment?
Why couldn’t he just pretend to tolerate you, instead of making it blatantly obvious to everyone how much he hated you?
You clutched your empty cup and your bag tightly to your chest as you stepped over Danny’s legs, your vision blurred with tears you refused to let Jake see as you rushed away from the group. By the time you made it to the stairs, you knew you would be alright, so long as you didn’t come face to face with him again. You clambered to the top of the stairwell, pushing through bodies in search of the front door. You were desperate for air, just for a breath of relief to help you forget about his venomous tone. When your fingers clasped around the doorknob, you instantly felt better. You pulled it open, stepping foot into the yard and away from the chaos.
The porch was near vacant aside from the couple engaging in a handsy makeout session a few feet away, but not even they seemed to notice you. You pulled the skirt of your dress down as you stepped forward, crouching down until your ass hit the wooden step. You released your hold on the short dress, stretching your legs out as you adjusted to a more comfortable position on the stair. You let your hand run through your hair, your fingers catching on knots as you combed through the mess of loose curls. You let out a shaky sigh, wiping the tears away from your cheeks as you let your eyes flutter closed.
You wouldn’t let him get the best of you, even though it was so easy for him to do it. You were better than his short fuse and lack of regard for your feelings, and you wouldn’t feed into the fire he created. As much as you wanted to yell, to call him out on his ridiculous behavior, it wasn’t you. You weren’t angry; you were bubbly, happy and outgoing, and you adored making new friends. You were a social worker who loved children because of their unusual glee despite being in horrible situations. You loved it so much, because that’s who you were. You loved being happy, the light shining in darkness even when you should be miserable and sad. You liked being that beacon of light for others, and you made it a point to remember small details so nobody ever felt forgotten.
You were kind hearted and free spirited, and you loved to love. You wouldn’t let him take that away from you, in all of his gruff grumpiness and dark brooding eyes. You were human, and everyone likes to be liked, but you didn’t care anymore. If he wanted to dislike you, that was fine, because you loved being you and you didn’t care to change for anyone. If he didn’t like your behavior, your desperation to see the best in everything and your constantly joyus nature, he was the one losing, not you. You wouldn’t bend your own boundaries to make someone like him happy.
The door creaking open behind you pulled you from your thoughts, making you peek over your shoulder to investigate the disturbance. You were met with a sight for sore eyes, the pure chaos of the moment putting a smile on your face despite your own internal struggles. Sam was stumbling towards you, his eyes heavy and glossy as he clutched a beer bottle tight in his hand. He was positively hammered, and you could tell with every step he took.
His stare landed on you, like he was a predator in search of prey. His hand holding the bottle raised, his index finger straightening and pointed in your direction. “Was looking for you, knockout. You’re fast.”
“You’re drunk, Sam.”
“Pshh,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He took a few unsteady steps towards you, placing his hand against the railing to steady himself as he sat down beside you.
“I love you, you know.” You smiled, hugging your knees to your chest as you rested your chin atop of them.
“I love you, Y/N.” He slurred, the smell of alcohol radiating from him. In some strange way, drunken Sam had always secretly been your favorite, mostly because of his unapologetic nature when it came to the tellings of his heart. “You’re the best friend ever, you know. Like the best. Couldn’t imagine life without you.” He rambled, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. “You’re always so sweet and kind, and you make the best cookies, and you come to my stupid parties and talk to my stupid brother, even when you don’t want to. There’s nothing wrong with you, Princess. Don’t listen to him, ‘cause he’s stupid.” He reiterated the same sentiment, causing a small giggle to fall from your lips.
“F’course I show up to your parties, Sammy.” You whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. He smelled familiar, giving you a sense of home you couldn’t find anywhere else. “Wouldn’t imagine life any other way.”
“And everyone loves you, Y/N. Josh, and Danny, and even Jake. ‘Specially Jake.” He hiccuped, smiling at the thought. The apples of his rosy cheeks were so soft in the moonlight, the sight heartwarming and forcing a smile onto your cheeks, too.
“No, I don’t think he does, Sammy boy, and that’s okay.” You whispered, gazing up at the stars and living in the sweetness of this moment rather than the bitterness of the one you shared with Jake.
“No, don’t think you get it, Princess.” He chuckled, his head toppling over onto yours as he heaved a large breath. He was caught in a nasty bout of hiccups, and his movements were all sloppy and loose. You were beginning to realize he was much more intoxicated than even you perceived him to be, and you were going to have to get him inside and to bed soon. “I can’t tell you, cause he wouldn’t like that, but he likes you, Y/N, wholeee hell of a lot.” He put the extra emphasis on the words to ensure you took him seriously. You laughed at his words, his oxymoronic statement, and the tone in which he said it.
“Sure, Sam.” You chuckled, pulling away from him slightly. You immediately missed the comfort of his touch, but you knew it was for the best. “Why don’t we get you upstairs, honey? Maybe a glass of water?”
“You think?” He asked, squinting at the porch light as he turned to look at you. His expression was challenging, but you both knew you’d win the fight.
“I know, Sam.” You gave him a soft smile. “Come with me?”
“Okay.” He huffed, nodding in agreement. “You’re staying tonight, right? Don’t want you… driving home…” there was a lull in his tone, and you noticed his eyes drooping lower the longer he spoke. “Jake’s an idiot, want you to stay, even if you’re mad at him… please?”
“Of course I’ll stay, love.” You promised, rising to your feet after ensuring you had a firm grip on his arm. “Come on, stand up for me.” You urged, pulling him only slightly from his sitting position.
“Kay,” he let out a shallow sigh, helping you only slightly as you pulled him to his feet. As soon as he was standing, he stumbled forward into you, and you wrapped your arms around him to keep him upright.
“Easy, honey.” You hummed, only slightly intimidated under his body weight.
‘You’ve got this. Get him upstairs and into bed. You can do it.’ You repeated to yourself, carefully moving your grip so you had one arm securely around his torso.
“Come on, Sammy. Help me out here.” You pleaded, taking a step towards the door. He seemed to be growing more tired by the second, and you worried that you would not be able to support his weight if he grew any more lax in your arms. He stumbled forward, uttering nonsense about his love for you as you desperately tried to get him to the door. You figured if you at least got him inside, someone would be around to help you out with the rest.
You felt your legs quivering under his and your own weight, but you managed a few more steps forward until you were just shy of reaching the doorknob. As you ushered him forward, you reached a shaky hand out for the door, only to find someone else already opening it for you. You looked upwards, relief flooding your features until your gaze landed on the body in the doorway.
“Let me help.” Jake grumbled, stepping forward to join the two of you.
“It’s fine, Jacob. I’ve got it.” You snapped, taking another step forward.
“Clearly not, sweetheart. Quit being so fucking stubborn.” He argued, taking post at Sam’s other side as he guided his arm over his shoulder.
“Jake!” Sam exclaimed, a lazy smile crossing his face as he recognized his brother's familiar face. “Y/N, this is my idiot brother Jake. Have you met before?” Sam looked in your direction, sending you a lazy smile and a sloppy wink. You stifled a giggle as you tightened your hold around him.
“Hey, brother. Let’s get you to bed.” He chuckled, anchoring his own arm around Sam’s back alongside yours.
Deciding it was for the best, you let Jake help you with the daunting task. Together, the journey was much less treacherous, and you had him upstairs in no time. In Sam’s bedroom, you and Jake eased your hold on him as he sat down in his bed, his eyes threatening closed as he slumped down onto the mattress.
“I’ve got it from here, thanks.” You snipped, brushing past Jake to grab a trash can, just in case Sam started to feel sick.
“He’s my brother, Y/N. I can take care of him.” He shot back, fixing the pillows so Sam could lay down.
“We’ll he’s my best friend, and I’m not fucking leaving him.” You huffed, helping Sam lay down on his side so he would not fall asleep on his back.
“Guess you’ll just have to deal with it, then, cause I’m staying too.” He rolled his eyes, plopping down on an armchair in the corner of the room.
“Great.” You muttered, fixing the blankets as Sam fought with the buttons on his shirt. “You okay, honey? I can help.” You offered, noticing his particularly annoyed expression as he couldn’t complete the task he’d set out to do. “Can you get him some water, Jacob?” You asked, a little more curt than you intended, but neglecting to feel remorseful about it.
“Why don’t you go, and I’ll get him out of his shirt?” Jake offered, malice fleeing him temporarily in hopes the arrangement might be more comfortable for you.
“Fine.” You sighed, stepping away from the bed and back into the hallway. A quick trip downstairs and one bottle of water later, you were back at Sam’s bedside, trying to get him to sip away at a hydrating alternative to the beer he was drinking all night.
You sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam relaxed against the mattress and melted into the pillows. Carefully, you reached out and brushed his hair from his face, gathering it in your hands as you slipped an elastic around it from your wrist. You couldn’t help but smile as he began to softly snore, a sure sign he was out for the night.
“Thank you, Y/N.” Jake said, his tone strong and startling you as you pulled your eyes away from Sam.
“For what?”
“For caring so much about him.” He shrugged, showing you a glimpse of himself as he professed his gratitude. “He’s my brother. Means a lot to me that you love him so much.”
“Don’t need to thank me for it.” You shrugged. “Hard not to. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” The two of you fell into a silence for a moment, the tension in the air thick and uncomfortable. You wondered if he would apologize, rectify the harsh words he’d thrown your way, or if maybe tonight would be the night he finally confessed how much he hated you. Or, maybe it was neither of those things, and the night would take the worst turn of all; the two of you sitting there, caring for a drunken Sam in awkward silence and sharing occasional words. Perhaps you could even talk about the weather.
“So when are you two gonna tie the knot?” Jake asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you carefully.
“What?” You asked, looking over at him with confusion written all over.
“Everybody’s thinking it. We’re just waiting for you to get on with it.” He said, his gaze never leaving your face, almost as if he was challenging you.
“I don’t like Sam like that, Jake. He doesn’t feel that way about me, either.” You were firm with your response, ensuring he understood that.
“Right.” He whispered, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch. Your eyebrows furrowed, curious about his words but unsure if you even cared enough to ask. You turned back to Sam, running a gentle hand over his arm as he slept soundly. As you did so, you could feel Jake’s eyes burning into you, making you shift uncomfortably in your position. Eventually, it became too much to ignore, and your head turned towards him again.
“What is your problem?” You asked, stronger than you intended.
“Nothing,” he defended himself, his lips turned down into a frown. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”
“Why would you want to?” You rolled your eyes, looking away from his face. You found it much harder to stay angry with him when you couldn’t stop thinking about how attractive he was. He opted not to respond to the topic at hand, but instead moved back to a previous one.
“Why don’t you and Sam get together?”
“Jesus, what does it matter?” You asked, answering his questions with more. You weren’t keen on discussing your romantic relationships with a man who barely cared enough to notice your presence in a room, and you definitely weren’t willing to discuss your relationship with Sam with him.
“You wanted me to talk, so I’m talking!” He argued, keeping his voice hushed so he would not wake his brother.
“Yeah, I wanted you to talk three years ago, Jake.” You laughed, shaking your head as you did so, but the situation was not funny to you. You couldn’t believe him, and he continually managed to surprise you with his offputting comments and his vague remarks. “I wanted to know you, but you’ve made enough of an impression already, and that ship has sailed.”
“I’m talking now, Y/N.” He tried again, his voice softer but still seemed standoffish.
“I don’t want you to, Jake.” You clarified, realizing you’d rather sit in silence or talk about the sunny skies, now. “I don’t care. I used to get upset because all you wanted to talk about was the weather, but I get that it is the only thing we have in common.” You stood, knowing you needed to take a step away from the situation before you exploded.
He was so good at getting under your skin, so different and so irritating. He ignored every one of your attempts at getting to know him, and you were over it. He didn’t get to be an asshole for so long and then suddenly change his mind about it, like he got to call the shots. The ball was in your court, and you weren’t willing to give him the time of day anymore.
“Wait,” he pleaded, holding his hand out to stop you from walking out on him. Ignoring his plea, you pushed past him, stepping towards the door with no intent on stopping. “Y/N, please.” He stood, reaching out to grab your arm so you could not leave.
“What, Jake?” You snapped, turning on your heel to face him. “Unless you’re going to tell me what your issue is, I have no interest in talking to you about anything.” There was a fire in his eyes unfamiliar to you, so different than the pained, distant expression he often adorned when looking in your direction.
“My issue is you!” He said, never dropping his hold on your wrist. It wasn’t tight, far from painful, but it was exhilarating. His skin on yours felt fantastic, even if he was an asshole.
“See? Was it that hard to finally fucking say it?” You fumed. “Just say you hate me, Jake. It’ll be so much easier for both of us!”
“It is hard, because I don’t hate you!” He confessed, taking you by complete surprise. “I couldn’t hate you, ever. Trust me when I say, I’ve fucking tried!”
“You don’t?” You asked, your knitting together in confusion. “Then what is your issue with me?”
“I don’t have an issue with you, Y/N. It’s me. It’s my problem.”
“Tell me Jake, please. I’ve spent so long wondering what I did to make you not like me, and I need to know.” You pleaded, your anger dissipating as you realized you finally might get an answer to the one question that constantly plagued you.
“Can we… Can we go somewhere else? Please?” Jake sighed, looking over his shoulder at his sleeping brother.
“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, stepping backwards and out of the room. He stayed close to you, ensuring Sam was alright before he closed the door behind him.
You led him down the hallway, turning into the guest bedroom that had become your very own. You stepped inside first, staying near the door as he walked in behind you. He knocked the door shut as he passed it, the music still booming downstairs and the crowd still plentiful despite the night changing into the early morning hours. You turned to face the boy, finding him already looking at you. His gaze was uncomfortable, especially knowing that there was so much unsaid between the two of you.
“So, what is it, Jake?” You asked, your arms loosely crossed over your chest as you tried to hide yourself under his stare. Now that the two of you were alone, your skimpy dress felt all the smaller, and you were self conscious knowing his eyes were drinking in every detail.
“I’ll tell you, but I need you to answer me first. Is there anything going on between you and Sam?” He asked, his palms pressed together and his fingers extended outwards, pointing towards you as he spoke.
“No, Jake. Not that it’s your business, but Sam and I are just friends; it’s always been that way, and it always will be.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” You stressed the point. “Why does this have anything to do with you not liking me?”
“It has everything to do with it, because I do like you!” He exploded, the sudden shift taking you by surprise. You recoiled at the strength of his words, watching him in shock for a moment.
“What are you angry about?” You asked, unable to piece together his erratic behaviour. His head fell back on his shoulders, a groan leaving his lips as he struggled to speak. It seemed as if his thoughts were plaguing him and he wanted to do anything other than confess them.
“I do like you, sunshine, and a lot more than you think.” He explained, drawing in a long breath and stepping towards you. “I like you too much, and I am a fucking idiot for treating you so badly, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Talk to me, Jake. Tell me what’s wrong, and we can work it out, together.” You pleaded, a shred of sympathy for the man taking hold despite all of your anger.
“See? That’s why, because after three years of me being a dick, you’re still trying to be nice to me!” He exclaimed, appalled at your concern and constant attempts to help fix things. “You should be yelling, or calling me names, or walking away, but you’re not.” He stressed the fact, hoping you understood what he meant.
“Is that what you want me to do?” You asked, confused by his response.
“No, I don’t want—“ he cut himself off, realizing how harsh and condescending the words sounded. “I love you, Y/N, and that’s why I can’t fucking talk to you, because I know I shouldn’t!” You were stunned, taken back by his bold confession and unsure how to respond to it. Your eyes widened, your lips parted as you breathed in his bare honesty hanging in the air. “I’ve spent three years falling for you, and it fucking kills me, but I can’t get you out of my head. Your perfect smile, and that cute little laugh, and the fact you care about everyone and everything, no matter what. You take care of all of us, all of the time. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you are way out of my league.”
You were so shocked at his confession that you forgot to breathe for a moment, and the fact he thought you were out of his league was laughable. You were in such a state that you didn’t think your actions through before responding, and an actual laugh fell from your lips. As soon as the sound reached your ears, your hand instinctively raised and clamped over your mouth, horrified that you made the sound in the first place. A flash of hurt crossed his face, the small expression telling you he regretted speaking at all. The laugh cut deep, but he was misunderstanding the intent behind it.
“You know what? Never mind. Pretend I never said anything at all.” He muttered, stepping towards the door.
“No, Jake.” You stepped forward, this time to stop him from leaving. “I’m not laughing at you.” You promised, your cool hand landing on his noticeably warm biceps. The soft fabric of his shirt felt good on your fingers, and an unfamiliar feeling blossomed in the pit of your stomach. “It’s just… I spent so long thinking you hated me. It’s a lot to take in. You have to understand that.” His eyes flickered back to you, then down to your hand on his arm. There was no longer any malice in his face, the softness of his features all the more alluring now that his defences were down. “Just… work with me, please?”
“Okay.” He whispered, turning back towards you slowly.
“I just… I think that you believing I’m out of your league is funny, because it couldn’t be further from the truth.” You explained, your voice quiet. The two of you were closer than you’d ever been, the heat of his body radiating from him. The sweet, intoxicating smell of his cologne you remembered so fondly from the night in the bathroom hit you with full force, skewing every one of your morals the longer you breathed it in. The drunken, desperate part of you was almost willing to forgo any tough conversation and have your way with him then and there, but you managed to stave off the urge for a little longer. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why would I, Y/N?” He asked, frustrated by the thought, but much more calm now that he understood your feelings a bit better. “Why would I try to pursue you, when we both know that I’m no good for you?”
“No good for me?” You asked, inching closer to him in hopes you wouldn’t have to give up the contact with him.
“Yeah,” he nearly scoffed the word. “No good for you. Think about it, sweetheart. You are a ray of sunshine, all of the time. You light up a room wherever you go, and everyone falls in love with you without even trying. You’re a social worker, for gods sake. You’re so good that you help people for a living, with no benefit to yourself. You remember the small details, you never make anyone feel left out or forgotten. You’re good, and I’m not. I treated you like shit for three years because I couldn’t let myself drag you down with me. I didn’t want to do that to you, but I had to.”
“What are you talking about, Jake? You wouldn’t be dragging me down at all.” You wished he would hear how ridiculous his words sounded, but he was stubborn, and you knew that for a fact.
“I’m miserable. I’m mean, and I’m snarky when I don’t even want to be. I’ve got a temper, and I say things I shouldn’t. You don’t deserve someone like that. You deserve someone who’s just as happy as you are, who puts out just as much good in the world. You’re waking up at three in the morning to go to the hospital and help out a family in need, and I’m just passing out drunk on someone’s couch. You help people, and I hurt people, even when I don’t want to. You don’t deserve that, Y/N, and I can’t do that to you. I bit my tongue because I wanted you to fall in love with someone who could make you happy.” He explained, his drunken ramblings tugging at your heartstrings.
“Jake,” you whispered, your hand tightening on his arm to pull his attention towards you. Now that he started, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking. All that he held back for so long was finally surfacing, and it didn’t seem to want to slow.
“I wanted you to fall in love with Sam, because you two are great for each other. It would have sucked, but I know that you deserve someone who can love you like that. I hate myself for pushing you so far away, but I had to, for you. I didn’t want you to get involved with me, because you are too bright and shiny, and I’m a little bit broken. I don’t know how to love, I’m not good at it, and you should be with someone who can give you the world.”
“Hey.” You said, firm as you dropped your hold on his arm. You reached up, taking his cheeks between your hands and forcing him to look at you. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to choose who is good for me and who isn’t, Jacob.” You said, swallowing hard as his brown eyes seemed to be staring into your soul. “You’re not broken, and you’re not bad, Jake. I’ve seen it before, and I’m seeing it right now. You have a big heart, and you care so much, even if you aren’t the best at showing it.” You breathed, looking over his face. Your heart was beating fast, your chest a mess of emotions you’d never quite felt before in your life. You were angry, confused, but also incredibly happy to finally hear the truth coming from his lips. You were oddly attracted to him in the moment, and you finally felt like the two of you were on the same page.
“I don’t like Sam that way, because I’m not looking for someone bright and shiny. I’m looking for someone who makes me feel something, and you do, and you always have. Why do you think I’m still trying so hard? After this long, I still want to be around you, and I still want to talk to you. I like being bright and shiny, and I like helping people. That’s who I am, and I can’t change that, but there’s nothing wrong with you, Jake. You said you’re ‘bad’, but how could you be? You spent three years putting me before you, because you didn’t want to hurt me.” You explained, begging for him to see reason. “What you just said to me, about how you feel… Jake, nobody’s ever said anything like that before. Nobody’s ever cared like that before.”
“I do care, and I definitely don’t hate you. I had to push you away, because every time I see you, I want to tell you how badly I need you. I tried so hard to get over you, but I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” At that, his hands raised to your hips, drawing you closer to him as he spoke.
“I’m not asking you to, Jake.” You said, your head spinning from the feeling of his hands on you. It felt so good, so unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Your hands were still on his cheeks, his face unbearably close to your own. After hearing everything he had to say, it made sense. All of the staring, his avoidance of being alone with you, the sweet moment in the bathroom. “I like you, in all of your grumpiness. I think you’re funny, and smart, and you are incredibly talented. I like that you play songs for me on the guitar, even if you don’t want to admit it, and I love that you love me so selflessly. You don’t get to decide if you’re no good for me, and you don’t get to force me to fall in love with someone else, because right now, I’m quite interested in knowing what it’s like to love you.”
“You can’t just say stuff like that, sweetheart.” He warned, his tone gravelly as his heart began to beat solely for you, for the moment you were sharing.
“I’m not just saying it. I mean it. After all this time, I’m still here, listening to everything you have to say.”
“I did play that song for you. I wanted to see you smile.” He confessed, almost pained at how badly he needed to see the joy written over your face. “I wanted to hear you sing it. I wanted you to sit next to me. I want it all, Y/N, all of the god damn time. I want you, but I don’t know how to do it right.”
“We can work on that part, because I want you too, Jake. I can’t walk away from you after you said all of that, because I don’t think I’ll every find anyone else quite like you. I don’t care if you’re grumpy, and I don’t care if you have a hard time showing how you feel. You’re not broken, and you’re not bad for me.” You felt your lips upturn into a small smile, noticing the blush of his cheeks and all of the small details you never had the chance to admire.
There was a splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose, like a constellation gracing his tanned skin. His brown eyes were even more breathtaking up close, and the fullness of his lips were more tempting than they’d ever been. You wanted to lean forward, to taste the sweetness he’d been withholding from you. The stony expression you’d grown so used to finally melted away, and you could see why he always adorned it while around you. Now that his cover was blown, the mask was gone, and he was looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes.
He was still hesitant, nervous about tainting the perfection you carried around with you. He didn’t want to dim your light, and he didn’t want to hurt you anymore.
“Stop pushing me away, Jacob. I don’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else.” You whispered. “I don’t want to walk away and forever wonder what it would feel like to love you. I can’t keep replaying ‘what if’s’ in my head for the rest of my life, and I don’t want that for you, either.”
“I’m not good at this stuff, sweetheart.”
“We’ll never know if we don’t try.” You offered, gravity pulling your face closer to his. Your nose was brushing his own, the smell of whiskey on his breath apparent and inviting. You weren’t sure what he was doing to you, but you’d never been so overcome with emotion in your entire life. “I don’t need someone bright and shiny, Jake. I need someone that balances me out. I need you.” His grip on your hips tightened, the breath catching in his throat at the three little words he’d been longing to hear since he first laid eyes on you.
“You mean it?” He asked, raising one eyebrow in inquiry as he ensured you were certain about everything you said. He didn’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it, realizing you drank too much and that he was too much.
“I mean it, Jake. I need you.” You stressed your point, desperate for him to close the gap between your mouths and finally give you the satisfaction of kissing him. Many nights you spent awake in bed, angry about his behavior and unbelievably turned on at how much you liked it. You hated yourself for being attracted to his behavior, but now that it made sense, you didn’t need to feel that way ever again. All the shame was gone, dissolving into one, unbearable, undying need for him.
The two of you clicked, better than anyone else ever had before. Even when you were arguing, short with each other and trying your best to stay away, there was always something. Whether it be a lingering stare, an accidental touch, or a sweet moment when you least expected it, he never failed to capture your attention and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away. He was infuriating, but you always seemed to come back for more, unable to refute his beauty and unable to resist the urge to know him. You couldn’t stand the idea of him disliking you, because you so badly wanted him to feel the same way about you. You wanted him to be caught up on you, curious about you and desperate to know more. You wanted him to be drawn to you in the same way, and you couldn’t handle him pushing you aside because your interest in him was driving you crazy.
“Say it one more time?” He asked, his lips just barely brushing over your own as he spoke.
“Please, Jake. I need you to kiss me.” You repeated, stronger than the last. Before the last word fully left your mouth, his lips were on yours and he was pulling you into him by your hips.
With your body pressed against his own, you felt all of the tension between the two of you finally subside. His lips were locked with yours, finally getting the satisfaction he’d been craving for so long. Your hands held his face, the touch tender and telling of your enjoyment. The tips of your fingers were tangled in the strands of his hair, the soft chestnut locks twisted around your fingers in a way you only ever imagined they would be. The taste of him on your tongue was addicting, even more so as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, begging you to let him take it further. You parted your lips for him, feeling his tongue quickly take advantage of the opportunity you had given him.
He tasted as sweet as you imagined he would, the warm remnants of whiskey he was drinking still lingering on him. He was addicting, intoxicating, and he was driving you insane without even trying. His hands on your hips were rough but gentle all the same, holding you tightly but cautious as if he thought he might break you. For the first time in your life, you were overtaken by greed, completely blind to anything other than your desire for him. The heat of his body as he held you to him, how perfect the two of you felt pressed together, was better than anything you’d ever felt in your entire life. His heart was beating hard against his chest, in time with yours as the two of you melted into one, cohesive mess for each other.
You let a moan slip out into his mouth, unable to hide your enjoyment for the moment. You felt his fingers tighten on you as he drank in the sound, surviving off of the sweet noise and locking it up in his heart for safe keeping. He pulled away from you, breathless with stars dancing in his eyes as he looked down at your face. His lips were swollen, the slight pout that so often made an appearance was nowhere to be found. He looked stunning, and you couldn’t believe he felt such a way about you.
“Hard for me to behave myself when you sound like that.” He huffed, his pupils growing large as he continued to study your expression.
“Who said you had to behave?” You asked, a sparkle of mischief shining in your eyes.
“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, your words hitting him harder than you thought they would.
He reached down, his hands landing on the back of your thighs as he lifted you in one swift motion. You locked your arms around his neck, your stomach twisting with excitement as you wrapped your legs around him. As he pressed his lips to yours again, he took a step forward. You were so immersed in the feeling of kissing him that you barely registered the chill that ran through you as he pressed your back up against the wall. With his newfound leverage, he pressed himself further into you, your hips meeting his as he kissed you. The intensity of the moment grew tenfold, especially with the new position.
The burning sensation in the pit of your stomach had prompted an ache between your legs that was becoming harder to ignore the longer he kissed you. Your dress had ridden up your thighs, resting just below your hips now. You quickly understood that you were not the only one with a growing problem, and you could feel his own desperation as your clothed cunt met with his cock through his pants. You could feel his entire length against you, and as much as you loved the feeling of kissing him, it made it incredibly hard to think about anything else.
His strong hands held your thighs, never letting you believe he’d drop you. He had you pinned against the wall, leaving no room for you to escape, and you were happy with it; there was nothing in the world that could stop you now, especially after feeling the euphoric affect of his touch. He was overwhelming entirely, but in the best possible way. You couldn’t even manage to form a coherent thought about anything other than the way he was making you feel, and you were eager to explore the possibilities the night held.
You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, allowing yourself to fully embrace how good he was making you feel with such a small amount of effort. His hands felt like they were burning into your skin, the touch melting into you, and his chest pressed against yours felt right. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, filling your senses every time you had a chance to catch your breath. Both of your lips were slippery, slick with saliva as he continued to kiss you, making even more of a mess. His lax attitude made it all the better, showing you that he was completely comfortable no matter how far you wanted to take it.
Perhaps the most pressing thought of all was how perfectly his hips met yours, and how badly you needed to feel it with less clothing in the way.
“Jake,” you breathed, parting from him as you rested your forehead against his.
“Could listen to you say my name like that for the rest of my fucking life.” He muttered, his tone gravelly and his gruffness making a return. This time, instead of irritating you, it sent a wave of pleasure straight through you. In an instant, you understood that his strong personality extended far beyond the realm of casual conversation, and you were eager to see it in action in a whole new way.
“I want you, baby.” You said, the words falling from your lips in a whimper. The need for him completely overtook you, in a way you almost didn’t believe possible. An hour ago, you were furious with him, convinced that he hated you and wanted nothing to do with you. Now, you were digesting the fact that no touch had ever felt so good, and you would do anything to be under him, just for a night. “Please.”
“Tell me what you want, beautiful.” He said, looking over your face with a fire in his eye that you ignited. It felt good to be looked at in such a way, like the whole world turned just for you. “Tell me everything.” He ordered, willing to comply with every one of your wishes, but wanting you to give him every one of the details.
“I want it all, Jake. I want you.” You explained, feeling his hips push forward. The pressure of his cock against your aching clit gave you a hint of relief, but it wasn’t enough. “I want you to make me feel good. I want you to touch me.” You pleaded.
“What else, gorgeous?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your jaw. You let your head fall back against the wall, giving him access to any part of you he wanted. His lips placed kisses along your jawline as he awaited an answer, sloppy as he began and growing even more so as he continued down to your neck.
“I want you to fuck me, Jake.” You confessed, free of any shame over the fact. “I need you to fuck me.” You corrected yourself, your desire pulsing under your skin as his tongue traced over the artery in your neck. He could feel your heartbeat on the tip of his tongue, your very life source offered to him on a silver platter. He pressed his lips to the pulse point, drinking in the desperation in your tone as he suctioned his lips around the very spot. Your eyes fluttered closed as he applied the slightest bit of pressure, focusing his attention there for a moment until he pulled away.
His eyes raked over the sight, the skin pink and irritated from his lips and darkening by the second. A perfect circular mark to remind you of him with every beat of your heart.
“I guess even a perfect little thing like you has some secrets to hide.” He rasped, his pupils consuming his irises as lust worked to craze him. “Tell me how you want me, angel, and I’ll give it to you.” You watched him carefully, your cheeks flushed and your skin hot. Your nipples were hard, pressed against his chest as he spoke to you. Every time he moved, the friction sent another rush of arousal straight to your core. Your skin was tingling, your excitement reaching every nerve ending and sending goosebumps prickling over your skin. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you, sweetheart.” He spoke again, trying to pry the dirty confession from you.
You had thought about it many times, but one thing you never seemed to consider was that in every fantasy, you got off from the simple idea of him doing whatever he wanted to you. Now, after experiencing touch from his hands, you felt that way more than ever before. No matter what he did to you, you knew you were bound to enjoy it.
“That’s it, beautiful? You want me to fuck you however I want?”
“Yes,” you nodded, excited just at the prospect. You looked over his face, piecing together every bit of information you knew about him. He was blunt, honest, and he liked to be in control. You couldn’t imagine sex with him being any other way than that, and you were eager to please him. If it was something as simple as that, you had no issue giving him the chance. “I just want to make you feel good, baby.”
The words seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain as he processed them. His hands tightened on you, his cock pushing forward into your cunt even further and his breath caught in his throat. He studied you for a moment, quiet and concentrated as he tried his best to figure you out. After a moment, his lips upturned into a devious smirk.
“Have you thought about me like this before, sweetheart?” He hummed, smug as he asked you the invasive question. Your cheeks burned red, your heart beating faster than normal as you quickly tried to find a cover up for the truth. Then, you realized you didn’t really care at all. You had thought about him in that way, and you had no reason to be embarrassed about it at all.
“I have.” You gave a slight nod, confirming his suspicion.
“And you got off to that? The thought of being my little fuck toy?” He pressed further, his intent to get you to admit to the dirty little fantasy. Although you wouldn’t have worded it quite the same as he did, the sentiment was the same, and you did get off on that thought alone. “Don’t be shy now, baby.” He said, his fingers snaking up the skirt of your dress.
“I did,” you whispered, biting down on the inside of your lip as you waited for him to respond.
“And you’ve been keeping that to yourself all this time?” He asked, his nose brushing against your jaw as his lips ghosted over your neck again. You squirmed under his touch, the feeling of his hot breath on your skin driving you insane. The tips of his fingers found your hips, settling just below the elastic waistband of your underwear.
He was going to be the death of you, and you were certain of that.
“Let me get this straight, angel.” He contined, pressing a delicate kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. A breathy wine pushed past your lips, your entire body ablaze with desire and desperate for him to do something other than tease you. “Did you like it when I was mean to you?” His words were soft, carefully treading the topic as he continued to gently rock his hips against your own. The dry friction was enough to keep you sane, but nowhere near what you needed. He took your silence as enough of an answer, smiling against you as you contined to try and move your hips further down on him. “Never would have guessed that Little Miss Sunshine likes to be treated like a whore.”
“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to press your thighs together to get a bit of friction. So strung out on desire, you didn’t even realize that all it was doing was pulling him further in to you.
“I bet that pretty cunt is such a mess for me, isn’t it?” He asked, pulling you away from the wall and stepping towards the bed. His hands were on your ass, firmly holding you so you did not have to fear him dropping you.
His cockiness was infuriating in any other context, but in the moment it was sending you feral. You were a shell of who you were earlier that night, the only thing fuelling you was your lust for the man below you. You were desperate, willing to do anything to have him, and finally coming to terms with the fact that your secret fantasies about him had nothing on real life.
“Answer me.” He growled, his fingers tightening on you as he drew your attention back to his question.
“Fuck yes, Jake.” You rushed out, feeling guilty for leaving him hanging.
“You want me to take care of that ache between your legs? Make you feel all better?” He asked, his eyes flickering to your face.
“Yes, please.” You nodded, meeting his gaze with doe eyes that seemed to drive him crazy. With that, he dropped you down on the mattress, the impact lessened by the springs bouncing you back upwards.
“You want me to take care of you, we do this my way.” He said, now gazing down at you with a slight sneer on his face. “Sound good to you, angel?” You nodded, never daring to look away from him. “First off, you refer to me as sir.” He waited until you processed the information before speaking again. “You answer when spoken to.” He added.
“Yes, sir.” You nodded. A small smirk turned his lips at the sound of your response.
“And the last one,” he crouched down, eye level with you to ensure you understood the importance of his rule. “Don’t ever, under any circumstance, be afraid to tell me to stop.” At that, a smile turned your lips, and he reached up to cup your face. “Okay?”
“Okay.” You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his thumb drifting over your cheek.
“As for me, I’m going to enjoy this no matter how it goes, so tonight’s an apology for how poorly I treated you.”
“It’s okay, Jake.” You assured him, feeling slightly sad that he felt the need to settle the score. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”
“I want to, ‘cause you deserve so much more than that.”
“Okay.” You breathed, nodding against his gentle hold. His thumb drifted downwards, caressing the smooth skin on your face until it landed over your bottom lip. He traced the outline, taking a moment to admire you and appreciate all he had. As he did so, you placed a kiss to the pad of his thumb, feeling an unfamiliar tug in your heart that did not match the energy the rest of the night held.
For some reason, in that moment, things finally began to sink in for you, and you finally saw him for all he was. He wasn’t just some angry man who was unjust and cruel. He was a person, with feelings that plagued him every day, feelings for you. He chose to push you away not because it would do any good for him, but because he wanted what was best for you. From that alone, you could see that he cared for you far beyond what anyone else ever had. In some strange, twisted turn of events, you could physically feel the pull of emotion in your chest, the blossoming feelings for Jake and all he was, including his pessimistic and avoidant attitude.
This was what was meant for the two of you. Not the fighting, or the avoidance, but this; a blatant and unashamed attempt to show each other how you felt. The whole time, he only wanted to love you, and you only ever wanted him to like you. You had no idea why you wanted him to like you so bad until the sweet words began to fall from his lips, and now you understood that you had always wanted him to be the one to say such things to you.
He was a mystery that you promised yourself you wouldn’t solve, but that’s exactly what you’d been trying to do all along. You started every conversation with the intent of turning it deeper, and you left empty handed and heartbroken because you always felt like there should have been something more between you. If you didn’t truly believe so, you would have quit a long time ago.
Instead of dwelling on the past, you allowed yourself to live in the moment. The rough pad of his thumb still rested on the delicate skin of your lips, and you did the only logical thing that was running through your mind; you parted your lips ever so slightly, pulling the digit into your mouth and letting it rest on your tongue. You suctioned your cheeks around it ever so slightly, your eyes fluttering up to meet his as you did so. His expression was deadly, his eyes focused on you as his jaw clenched and the familiar muscle in his jaw flexed. Slowly, you moved your head back, his thumb sliding from your lips and falling from your mouth with a faint popping sound.
A low groan rattled his chest, his eyes fluttering closed as his head fell towards the ground. You watched him, eyes never leaving him so you could soak up every bit of his energy. “You trying to fucking kill me, sweetheart?” He asked, the rhetoric meant to go unanswered as his hands landed on your hips.
He pulled your near the edge of the bed, settling himself on his knees before you as his hand grabbed the fabric of your dress. He bunched the material in his fists, sliding it upwards with help from you as you lifted your ass from the mattress. When the bottom of the skirt landed near your navel, he dipped his fingers underneath the elastic of your underwear, using the opportunity to pull them down your thighs before you returned to your earlier position.
With your ass resting on the edge of the bed and your lower half bare, he couldn’t seem to control himself any longer. This was a moment he thought about often, but never truly believed he would experience.
“Do you know how often I thought about you like this?” He asked, his fingers roughly guiding your leg over his shoulder. The sudden action knocked the breath straight from your lungs, causing you to clench around nothing just from the thought of what he would do to you. “How many times I wanted to bring you up here and have you all to myself?”
“I thought about it too.” You breathed, your stare locked in on his face as his eyes scanned the sight before him. He leaned forward, his lips brushing over the soft skin of your inner thigh. Carefully, he sucked a trail of marks all the way up to the top of your thigh, determined to ensure you would remember the moment long after it passed. You reached down, brushing the long locks of brown hair away from his face so you could see the whole sight with nothing standing in the way. “I thought about it all of the fucking time.” You let out a shallow breath, watching as his mouth turned inwards towards your cunt.
Your stomach twisted into knots as you watched his tongue dart over his bottom lip, the anticipation killing you the longer he withheld his tongue from you. Without any further words, he leaned forward, unable to wait any longer and let his tongue connect with your core. Starting at your entrance, he let his tongue flatten against you, slowly moving it upwards through your folds until it landed on your clit. He took in a sharp breath before moving his tongue downwards and repeating the action for a second time. When his tongue settled over your clit again, he moved away just for a moment.
“You taste so fucking good, angel.” He rasped, his fingers tightening on your hips as he savored the taste of your arousal on his tongue. It was even better, knowing that he was the reason behind it. “Just as sweet as I thought you would be.”
A pathetic little whine fell from your lips, your face burning and your heart pounding in your chest as he lowered his mouth on you again. This time, his tongue went straight to your clit, his actions full of intent. As soon as his tongue began to trace over the sensitive bundle of nerves, your entire body began to tremble. You tangled your hands in his hair, a shaky breath leaving your lips as he focused his full attention there for a moment.
It has been too long since you had sex, and everything he did felt so good. You were a mess for him before he ever took your clothes off, and you knew it wouldn’t take long before he had you exactly where he wanted you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your head falling back on your shoulders as he worked at you, drinking up every drop of arousal you had to offer. His tongue felt so soft, warm and wet against you, making every movement all the more fantastic.
The power he held over you was nearly incomprehensible. Never in your life had another person affected you so badly and deeply, in everything that he did. Every lingering glance, slight smile and even the roll of his eyes, he had you hanging off it and asking for more. Even when you thought he despised you, you couldn’t shake the temptation to reach out and try again, because even a miserable interaction with Jake was better than nothing at all. You were a fool to think that the same emotions wouldn’t carry over into sex, but with his mouth on you, working you up to an orgasm, you realized that there was nobody in the world quite like him.
He was snide, sharp-tongued and quick witted. He was an enigma, catching attention no matter where he was or what he was doing. You were so convinced he hated you because it was easier to believe than anything else; even then, with his hands on your hips and his mouth on your cunt, you could hardly believe Jake Kiszka was interested in you at all. To know he spent so long hung up on you, thinking he wasn’t good enough for you was nearly painful to imagine. He was everything, even when he wasn’t saying anything at all. He was the whole world, and it felt like you were just living in it, which was why it was so hard to exist without any type of relationship with him. You wanted Jake to know you, to like you, to think of you in the same way you thought of him when you had a moment to yourself.
He let out a hum against you, the vibration running through your whole body and furthering the waves of pleasure already washing over you. You let out a sharp moan, your fingers tightening around the locks of his hair. You laid back on the bed, careful so not as to disturb him while he worked. The new position gave you a bit more control over the motion of your hips, and a lot more pleasure. He took advantage of your new position, pulling your ass off the bed and closer to him so he did not have to lean so far forward.
He groaned against you, completely overtaken with desire and unable to hide his enjoyment as your hips moved against his tongue to meet his time. The fire in the pit of your stomach was growing at a rapid rate, taking over your entire body and causing your mind to jumble with thoughts of nothingness. You needed it more than you ever needed anything in your entire life, and he was quite aware of that as you bucked your hips forward despite his tight hold. He was encouraging you further with every flick of his tongue, and just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he reached between your legs and added his middle and index finger to you.
Your hips jerked upwards in reaction to the curl of his fingers, which hit against the sensitive spot inside you every time he pumped them into you. You could feel him smirking against you, cocky and rightfully so as he realized how good he was making you feel.
“Oh, fuck.” You whined, your eyes squeezed shut as a particularly intense wave of euphoria took hold. Your abdomen was tense, just the same as your limbs. You felt like if you moved an inch, you would lose the pleasure he was so kindly granting you. “Jake, m’gonna cum.” You warned, feeling the sensation in the pit of your stomach grow stronger, snowballing as it spread across your skin.
He continued to pump his fingers in time with the movements, pushing you closer to the edge by the second. You pulled your leg casted over his shoulders inwards towards you, drawing him in further as he worked at you with intent. You could feel a sheen layer of sweat forming on your skin, glistening under the moonlight through the window to illuminate the sin you were engaging in. The obscenity of the display the two of you found yourselves in was a picture that would be framed in your minds forever, the memory of the event seeping into the walls and remaining there forevermore. You wouldn’t be able to rid the memory from your brain even if you wanted to, and that was okay by you, because Jake was the best that you had ever had.
With one last curl of his fingers, he sent you over the edge, the knot in your belly tightening and snapping under the pressure. Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him in further as his tongue traced over your clit. You cried out for him, pleading for more and less all at the same time, pleading for mercy you knew he would not give. Your hands in his hair were pushing him away and pulling him closer all the same, and you had never felt so strung out on pleasure in your entire life.
“Oh, god.” You whined, your thighs squeezing around his head as he confined to work you through the climax. His hands on your hips, bruising the delicate skin made your heart beat only for him in that moment, living just from the generosity he was granting you and thankful to be his.
When your body relaxed against the bed, he slowed his movements, eventually pulling away from you. Although you were grateful that he didn’t push you to the point of overstimulation, you immediately missed the feeling of his tongue, grieving the loss as if it were something catastrophic.
To you, it was.
He slowly rose to his feet, his hand swiping your arousal from his chin before they dropped to his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it and throwing it to the floor. You looked up at him, in awe of his blinding beauty and unable to process anything further than that. He unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops in one swift motion and tossing it to the floor.
“Get up.” He ordered, his usual expression taking over his face again, but this time it seemed even more ethereal. You did as he asked, rising from the bed and to your feet. “M’sorry, angel. Been waiting so fucking long. I need to feel you.” He said, kicking his pants and his boxers to the side to join the rest of his clothes on the floor. He stepped towards you, your eyes trained on his body as you tried to sear the sight into memory forever. He was stunning, more than you ever thought he could be, and seeing all of him only made you realize how lucky you were.
His hands snaked under your dress, pulling the tight material over your head and tossing it to the floor. Now that you were fully naked, he took full advantage of the fact and let his hands wander over you as he pulled you in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the feeling sending you feral as the pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple. You wanted to tell him he didn’t need to apologize for anything, that you needed him inside of you just as bad as he did. As your hands roamed his bare torso, you understood you didn’t have to say a word because he could feel how badly you wanted him.
He guided you to the edge of the mattress, taking a seat in front of the vanity Sam had placed at the end of the bed. He sat first, keeping his hands on your hips as he guided you towards him. With a smile, you placed your knees on either side of him, keeping a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself.
“God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Wish you could see yourself like this.” He muttered, his head craned upwards to meet your gaze as he lined himself with your entrance. The feeling of him against you was fantastic, only growing more so as he ran his tip your arousal. He bright his cock forward, guiding himself so he could slide over your clit. Your hips moved downwards in reaction to the feeling, in search of more. The pressure of him resting against you increased, only worsening your growing need for him. “Come here, gorgeous.” He muttered, carefully guiding your hips backwards. You felt him slide through your folds again, the sensation something so different than anything you’d felt before. When he settled by your entrance again, he couldn’t wait any longer to pull you down on him.
You both let out an audible sigh of relief as he pushed inside of you, the feeling of him filling you so fantastic that you needed to take a moment to appreciate it. You weren’t used to his size, but the stretch of your walls as he pulled your hips down to meet his was fantastic.
“So fucking tight,” he muttered, his nose brushing yours as your forehead rested against his own. “Feel even better than I imagined.” He confessed, his hands trailing up your torso and tickling your skin. You began to move your hips, starting with a slow pace while you both grew comfortable with each other.
You weren’t sure why, but the thought of him imagining the two of you in such a way was enough to get you off all by itself. It affected you so much, you couldn’t help but bring it up with him.
“Yeah?” You hummed, maintaining a slow roll of your hips against him. The ends of your hair tickled the skin of your back, tangling with his fingers as he held your chest to his. “You thought about me like this? Just like this?” You continued, adding a little extra force to your hips as you came down on him.
“All of the time, Y/N.” He said, one hand reaching around you and landing on your ass. His fingers tightened against you, his palm settling directly on the curve of your ass. “Thought about how good that pretty little cunt would feel wrapped around me every fucking night.” He confessed, leaning forward and capturing you in a kiss. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down with just enough force to cause your hips to stutter while they moved against him. “Takes everything in me not to take you upstairs and fuck you every time I see you.”
“I thought about you too.” You whined, your eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the feeling of him inside of you. You were without shame anymore, knowing that the two of you were finally on the same page. He thought about you just as much as you thought about him, he wanted it just as bad as you did, and you felt no need to hide it from him.
“Yeah?” He asked, thrilled at the sound of your words despite already knowing as much. His hand on your ass was guiding you down further every time you moved your hips, adding just a little more pressure to the already overwhelming sensation. “Did you play with yourself while you thought of me, angel?” He asked, his lips hovering over your ear as he spoke. The low tone sent a shiver down your spine, and his warm breath on your skin sent goosebumps rising across your entire body. Your hand on his shoulder tightened, but you did not confirm or deny the fact. “Come on, don’t be shy.” He coerced you to answer, leaning forward and gently pulling your earlobe between his teeth. “Want to know all of your dirty little secrets, beautiful.”
“I-I did,” you stuttered, clenching around him ever so slightly. He was impossible to resist and denying him the truth seemed more painful than confessing.
“So I was the one keeping you up at night?” He asked, a little breathless as he spoke as if the idea sent him spiraling. “My name on your lips as you imagined it was me touching you instead? And I wasn’t even there to hear how fucking desperate you were.” He said the second part with a hint of disappointment, as if he was grieving the loss without ever knowing he missed out. “You’re breaking my heart, angel.” He muttered, pushing your hair away from your neck as he pressed a kiss atop the darkening marks he’d already left behind.
“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, unsure why you were apologizing but doing so because you were terrified he might stop. He was silent for a moment, his tongue grazing your skin. The saltiness on the tip of his tongue seemed to drive him mad, his stature rigid and his chest heaving with every breath.
“Turn around for me, sweetheart.” He said, ignoring your apologies as his eyes focused on the mirror in front of him. He felt selfish being the only one who could appreciate the view of the scene you found yourselves in.
You slowed your movements, pulling away from him as you complied with his request without hesitation. Slowly, you got to your feet, turning around so you were facing the large vanity mirror as well. He reached out, his hands landing on your hips as he guided you back towards him. You placed your legs on either side of him, feeling him reach between your bodies to line himself back up with you. Once he knew you were comfortable, he pulled your upper half towards him, your back pressed against his chest as he slowly lowered your hips onto him.
“Want you to see how pretty you look when I fill you.” He muttered, pulling you down until he filled up you completely. A shaky breath left your lips as the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot, the sight almost too much for you to handle. He reached up, brushing your hair from your shoulders and pulling it all to one side. He draped it over one side of you, his chin nestling on the opposite shoulder as you began to move against him again.
With the new position, you could see everything. The furrow of his brow as he bargained with the pleasure of feeling you, his clenched jaw as he tried to keep himself calm, and more importantly, you could see him fucking into you, every time your hips raised and sank back down on him. It was almost too much to take, the sight so obscene yet so beautiful all at once. His hand snaked between your legs, his middle finger resting over your clit as he began to trace slow circles around it. Your legs trembled as you tried to keep a steady pace, the burning in your belly reaching a new level as you watched his lust-crazed eyes, never daring to look away from you.
“This is what you fantasized about, sweetheart?” He asked, making you understand the real reason he switched the position. He wanted you to remember, to know exactly what it looked like as he fucked you, so you had something to think about the next time your mind wandered when you were alone.
“Yes, sir.” You whimpered, your entire body ablaze with emotion. You’d never felt so good, and you’d never felt so alive. Sex with Jake was phenomenal, something so filthy that it only existed in the darkest depths of your mind, even when he wasn’t doing much at all. The closeness was enough to drive you insane, and the pleasure was enough to put you in the grave. His stern demeanor was infuriating outside of the bedroom, but seemed to further his charm as soon as his clothes were off.
“Want you to think about it every time you play with that pretty pussy.” He growled, his hips raising off the bed to meet yours in a moment of high emotion. You let out a muffled yelp, biting down on your lip to silence the sound as it passed through you. “If that’s still not enough, you just let me know. I’ll be happy to take care of her, whenever you need me.” He assured you, his teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder. The miniscule pain from the action only furthered the knot tightening in your belly. You needed to let go, to show him how good he was making you feel. You needed it more than anything you’d ever needed in your life. The pressure of his jaw slackened, and you felt his tongue gently trace the skin his teeth had marked, soothing the slight irritation he left behind.
A moan fell from your lips, loud and telling of the surplus of pleasure coursing through your body. His finger continued to trace your clit, relentless and unapologetic as he tried to pry another orgasm from you. It was becoming harder to focus, the sensation quickly turning into the only thing you could think about. You watched his face in the mirror, studying the beauty of the man below you. He was concentrated, certain of what he wanted and unwilling to stop until he got it. As you contined to watch him, you understood that his eyes were no longer trained to your face, and instead his gaze had fallen downward, settled on the exact spot where the two of you met. Your stomach burned as you realized he was watching himself fuck into you, the simple idea pushing you just a little closer to the edge.
“You going to cum for me again, angel?” He asked, his tone sickly sweet as if you had a choice in the matter. He wasn’t going to stop until you did, and the question only served as a catalyst in his ever growing ego problem.
Perhaps you were the real catalyst in the equation, because you seemed to lack any self control when it came to him, and you wouldn’t dare deny him of a single wish.
“Yes, sir.” You groaned, your eyes closing and your head falling towards the floor. You felt like you had no control over your body, your movements only made to further the pleasure he was already giving you. It was necessity rather than want; you were tired, but you couldn’t fathom stopping. You wanted to exist in the moment for the rest of your life, never letting him go and never worrying about anything else.
“Look at me.” He growled, his hand raising to your face. He clamped your cheeks between his fingers, forcing your head back upwards to face the mirror. Your body was overtaken with euphoria by the harshness of his actions, the feeling of his hand tightly holding your face adding the extra little bit of pleasure needed to send you over the edge. “Watch how good you look when you cum for me.”
“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your movements stuttering as the sensation became too much to withstand.
“That’s it,” he rasped, continuing to hold your head in place. “That’s my fucking girl.” The possessive claim sent you spiraling, the term too much to bear in combination with everything else he was doing to you.
Your walls squeezed around him, pulling him in further and locking him there as your second orgasm washed over you. He raised his hips off the bed, continuing the same pace as your body froze in place. His finger on your clit never faltered, ensuring that you got the most out of the orgasm. He continued to whisper the sweet nothings in your ear, praising you for the show you were putting on as profanities fell from your lips. Your cheeks were red, your face hot as the sensation infiltrated every nerve in your body. Your eyes remained locked on the two of you, soaking in every detail as he worked you through the climax, admiring him as he remained so tentative as you unravelled around him.
Before the pleasure fully subsided, you could feel him shift underneath you. His finger moved from your clit, instead his hand holding your hips as he began to stand. He held you as he stood, guiding you upright with him without ever pulling out of you. Your mind was foggy and your limbs weak as you barely worked to help him, but he didn’t care about the lack of support. He was crazed enough from the look on your face that something superhuman took hold. He pushed you forward, closer to the vanity as his eyes stayed locked on your face.
You raised your hands to the cabinet, knowing his course of action before he ever began. You began to regain your wits at the same time as he pushed your upper half down towards the wooden surface. Your chest landed on the frigid surface, sending a shock through your body as you felt it. He reached upwards, his hand gathering your hair and knotting it around his fist as he began to move his hips. The new position allowed for much more freedom, and much more control. As much as he enjoyed the slowness as you grew familiar with the feeling of him inside you, he could only give up control for so long before he went insane.
“Being so good for me, sweetheart. Just a little bit longer, okay?” He pleaded, his hips slamming forward. A guttural moan tore through your chest, the pain and pleasure mixing together to create a whole new kind of feeling for you. You were tired, nearly fucked out and ready to go to sleep, but if he wanted it, so did you. You would do anything to please him and you would enjoy it while you did so.
“Y-yes, sir.” You complied, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to fight of the irritating overstimulation trying so hard to take hold. “Whatever you want, sir.” You added, finding that talking was helping you come back to your senses a little more.
“Fuck, baby.” He hissed, his hand coming down on your ass with a force that sent your knees weak. The ring on his middle finger sent an aching pain across the flesh, but it was so addicting you barely thought twice about it. The stinging sensation spread across your skin, the redness already beginning to darken where his palm came in contact with you. “Take it so fucking good.” He praised, his dark eyes still watching your expression in the mirror. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, the desperation to please him evident and doing nothing but furthering the frenzy he was stuck in.
“F-feels so fucking g-good.” You gasped, stuttering the words out through a mess of moans. You raised your hips a little higher, sinking your upper half down so he could reach a whole new angle inside of you.
“Such a little whore.” He commented, tugging at your hair and forcing your head upwards. Your eyes raked over your reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing yourself so strung out on pleasure. “Do you like being a whore for me, angel?”
“I love it.” You confessed, your heavy-lidded stare burning into him. “Only for you, sir.” You added, ensuring he knew that now, he was the only one who would ever have access to that side of you.
“That’s right.” He affirmed your statement, his words gruff as his movements grew sloppy. He was being pulled in to the same euphoria you’d experienced at his hands only moments before, the sensation taking hold and growing impatient with him. He needed it, and after his generosity, you would do anything to get him there. “This is all for me now, sweetheart. Nobody else gets to see you like this.” A high pitched whine echoed through the room, confirming his feelings on the matter without any words needing to be spoken at all. You wanted to be his; you didn’t want anyone else to have you like that, ever again. He brought out a side of you that you barely knew to exist, and the thought of letting it go was grievous. “Do you understand me?” He growled, knowing you did but eager to hear it anyway.
“Yes, sir.” You panted, watching as wrinkles formed between his brows, showing you just how hard he was trying to hold back.
“Want to hear the words, baby.” He pressed further, his pace bruising and making it difficult to formulate the statement he wanted you to say. Another moan tore through you, your throat raw as it passed through. You were on the brink of another orgasm, so close but it seemed just out of reach.
“I’m all yours, sir.” You promised, pushing your hips back towards him to meet the time of his thrusts. As his cock slammed into your cervix, your knees went weak below you, threatening to collapse under your weight. He noticed the change in your posture, immediately slipping his arm under your hips to hold you upright.
No matter the circumstance, he wanted you to know that you would never have to worry about falling so long as he was there to catch you.
“Fuck, you feel good.” He let out a strained sigh, his face contorting into an expression of pleasure. He was close, but he wasn’t willing to give in until he gave you one last orgasm.
To you, the thought alone was ridiculous; after everything he’d already done for you, you couldn’t imagine him holding back any longer.
“S’okay, baby.” You breathed, catching his eye so he could see the sincerity in your face. “Want you to cum for me.” You said, your words hitting him like a brick. It seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, the role switch sending him spiralling in an instant.
You could feel him pull out of you, both of you knowing he couldn’t push himself any further. Something seemed to take over you as he did so, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. You spun around, facing him and quickly dropping to your knees before him. You were nearly saddened at the thought of such an anticlimactic end for him, and the feeling forced you to take action as you moved your head forward and took him into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him as you bobbed your head down to take his full length, the simple fact causing the ache between your legs to worsen beyond anything it had already been that night. You missed the feeling of him inside you, but you were more eager to please him than you were to satisfy yourself.
He looked down at your face, shock written across his features as he processed your sudden change. It didn’t take long for the surprise to be forgotten, especially as his tip hit the back of your throat. His hand reached down, holding your hair in his hand so he did not have to miss a single detail of your face. The warm wetness of your mouth was just as inviting as your cunt, and the sensation furthered his pleasure as if he’d never pulled out of you at all. He didn’t want to push you, afraid that you might not be able to handle the same intensity in the newest position, but when you pushed your head further down on him and his cock slid down your throat, he quickly understood that you were willing to take whatever he wanted to give you.
His hips bucked forward in response to the feeling, and you forced yourself to swallow, your throat constricting around him and effortlessly sending him over the edge. At the same time, the most beautiful sound fell from his lips, gracing your ears and settling deep in the pit of your stomach.
For a moment, you felt like you could get off on the sound of his pleasure alone.
His posture slipped slightly as his orgasm washed over him, his release spilling down your throat as he held you to him. You moved your head against the force of his hand, your tongue moving against the underside of his cock as you swallowed back every last drop of him. A strangled cry left his lips as he pulled back, his hips jutting forward again as you ran your tongue over his tip. The saltiness lingered on your lips, making your mouth water and leaving you wanting more. In that moment, there wasn’t a single thing you wouldn’t do for the man standing before you.
“Get up.” He spat, his shoulders still heaving with his breaths. Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his gaze as you withdrew your head. His tip fell from your lips with a slight popping sound, and you couldn’t bite back the smirk forming on your lips. “You think you can do something like that and finish it there?” He growled, watching as you rose to your feet. He was not angry, and not a single part of his face gave you that impression. He was enamoured with you, unable to walk away without at least thanking you for the service, and he was completely beside himself with desire. “Turn around. I’m not fucking done with you, yet.”
You did as he asked, spinning back around to face the mirror. You sunk back to the position you were in moments before, your hands clamped around the edge of the wooden dresser. Instead of returning to his earlier position, he sunk to his knees similar to how you had done for him, his head between your legs and within seconds, his tongue connecting with your core.
He got straight to the point, so far gone he didn’t even care to tease you anymore as his tongue settled over your clit. Your hips moved back to meet his mouth, in desperate search of more and he barely even started. You were too far gone to care, much similar to him, and your body was still abuzz with the pleasure he had already granted you that night.
“Fuck, Jake.” You cried, your voice raspy and your tone breathy as your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. His movements were different than before, more messy and much less calculated, but it almost made the entire ordeal even more enjoyable. The knowledge that he was completely feral for you alone was overwhelming, and the fact he was pleasuring you solely because he enjoyed it was something you’d never experienced before. “Please don’t stop, baby.” You pleaded, your heart thudding against your chest and your face hot with emotion. He moaned against you, assuring you he would never even dream of it. The sound appeared much more animalistic than it was before. His hands raised, grabbing your hips and pulling you back towards his face. He was working at you with desperation, like he needed it just as bad as you did.
Your stomach was tense, your legs trembling as his fingers bruised your skin. You were so close, too far gone to care about keeping yourself quiet and without a care in the world about the marks he was leaving on your body. You wanted to remember it, to wake up in the morning and see the dirty details of the night lingering on your skin. In days to come, you wanted to think of the night every time you took your clothes off, living in the feeling of being his just for a moment longer.
“Jake!” You cried, your knuckles white from your grip on the vanity. Your body ached with exhaustion, but you were in such desperate need of another climax that not even that could deter you. He hummed against you, the warmth of his tongue and the vibration of the sound working together to push you closer to the edge. You could barely think straight, your skin tingling with pleasure every time he moved. You worried that you might not survive the fall, the orgasm barreling towards you faster than you could comprehend. Then again, with him holding you, you had a lingering sense of comfort, like you could survive anything so long as he was there to support you through it.
With one last flick of his tongue, you were pushed over the edge and there was no coming back. A strangled whine tore through your chest, your legs locking in place as the sensation took hold. You were crying his name, begging him for something he couldn’t give, because not even you knew what you needed. He didn’t even think of moving away, working you through the process until you rode out the high, and even then he felt like he had to force himself away from you.
When you relaxed against him, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were so tired, so ready to curl up in bed with him by your side. You wanted to sleep soundly, so much so that you could forgo the conversation about what the two of you were and deal with it in the morning. You expected him to feel the same, but he rose to his feet with a whole new surge of energy overtaking him. Wordlessly, he helped you stand upright, spinning you around once more by your hips, but he didn’t let go this time. Instead, he lifted you up, similar to how he did earlier that night but with much more strength due to the lust working to his advantage. You wrapped your legs around him, exhausted but still able to comply to his demands. Your mind was elsewhere, your body working solely to please him as he held you to him with one hand. His other reached out, carelessly clearing the surface of the vanity with one swipe of his arm. The few items toppled over and landed on the floor, and he sat you down on the edge of it.
“I know you’re tired angel, but I need to feel you again. I can’t fucking help myself.” He explained, reaching between you and running his tip through the wetness still lingering between your legs. He was still achingly hard, in dire need of relief again despite his last orgasm only being moments before. Your eyes were drooping so close to closed, but as his cock drifted over your clit, your hips grinded forward into the feeling, in search of the very thing that might be the death of you.
Slowly, he thrusted himself forward, his dick falling into position and slowly pushing inside of you again. Unprotected sex was risky, especially after his previous orgasm, but neither of you seemed to care a bit about it, too desperate to be close to each other again. The sensation of him inside you was too much, the stretch of your walls as he filled you again so much more daunting than the last time. Still, despite your body screaming with overstimulation, you couldn’t deny how right it felt to have him so close.
“You can take it, baby. I know you can.” He encouraged, beginning a slow rock of his hips against you. The newest position allowed for a whole lot more intimacy, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t completely living for it. Your arms raised, locking around his neck and pulling him closer. “Being so, so good for me, baby.” He praised, his hands traveling over your bare back to pull your chest closer to him.
You were completely fucked out, and you had no idea how he was still going. You had a hard time imagining that you had such an effect on him, but the proof was in his actions. This time around, he was much more generous with his sweet side, and had much less control over the sounds falling from his lips. He was desperate, acting as if the control was in your hands despite his dominant aura, like he would die if he couldn’t have you for just a little longer. You never thought Jake Kiszka would be the one before you, pathetically needy and unable to resist the temptation, but you were so glad it ended up that way.
“Come here.” You muttered, pulling his face closer so you could kiss him. The taste of you on his lips still lingered, something that you were growing more used to as time went on. The sweetness of his kiss was nearly too much to bear, a pitiful moan slipping into his mouth as he continued to fuck into you. You were a mess for him, willing to let him do whatever he pleased. The best part about it was that he felt the exact same for you in the moment.
Your tongue glided over his bottom lip, begging for more attention from him. His lips parted slightly, allowing you to slip it into his mouth. The kiss was sloppy, the salvia shared between the two of you soaking your lips and coating the upper part of your chin, but it was addictive. The messiness of the action only made it even more so, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of him.
His chest was pressed against yours, his heart beat wild and matching your own. The dampness from the sweat on your skin caused the two of you to stick together, forcing you to stay in the position. His hands were grasping at your body, doing all he could to bring you closer than you could possibly get, and your hands were tangled in the mess of his hair. Neither of you wanted to break apart, so you stayed just like that for as long as you could.
As you continued to kiss him, the pressure in the pit of your stomach began to rise again, this time different than the last. It had little to do with his hips moving and everything to do with the connection you felt with him. His nose brushing against yours as he did all he could to continue the kiss was euphoric, and you couldn’t believe he wanted you so badly. After so long spent thinking he hated you, the feeling of him loving you was otherworldly. He was holding you with all of the emotion he’d kept locked up for so long, the truth coming out in a climactic and emotional manner. Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him further into you as he continued to fuck you.
For a moment, you felt like you had become one, cohesive being that survived solely off the beating of each others hearts.
You knew you were at the end, that you couldn’t possibly hold anything back. All of your willpower disappeared, your body doing as it pleased and your mind having no say over it. Without confirmation, you believed in your heart that he felt the same way as you did. He could feel the flutter of your walls around him, the telltale sign that you were close to another climax. He continued his pace, never thinking of stopping even for a moment. He needed to feel you in the most primal, visceral way possible.
“Come on, angel.” He muttered against your lips, upping the force in which he was fucking into you. “One more, baby. You can do it.” His voice was strained, like he was teetering on the same edge as you were.
“You too?” You asked, pulling away just enough so you could look over his face.
“Y-yeah,” he nodded, almost embarrassed over the fact. It only seemed to further the burning in your belly, and you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. Neither of you cared about the consequences, only the intensity of the connection between you as he fucked you closer to the orgasm. In a permissive manner, you leaned toward and pulled him into another kiss, your mouth meeting his own and telling him everything he needed to know.
A groan rattled his chest as his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer to him as he gave in to the feeling. You did the same, feeling your skin tingle with the intensity you’d felt so many times already. This time was different, more emotional and less physical, but it was a million times better than anything you had ever felt.
Together, the two of you reached the peak, muffling every moan and cry with your mouths. His stature faltered, falling over into you slightly as you held him tightly. Your entire body trembled as the euphoria overtook you one last time, and his hips stuttered as he pulled your hips forward onto him. For the second time, he spilled his release into you, unapologetic as he worked you through your own orgasm. Your body ached from the tension in your limbs, your ribs pained from your heart pounding against them. Your hands loosened on him as you relaxed, the moment passed you by almost as quick as it came.
Reluctantly, he parted from the kiss so he could catch his breath. His forehead rested on your own, and his eyes seemed tired, but full of love. There was no more hesitation, no reluctance or indifference in his gaze. Instead, it was replaced with the emotion he was so determined to confess, and it washed over you like summer rain. It felt better than anything ever had, and you never wanted him to look at you any other way ever again.
Silence became the two of you for a few moments, neither of you having the energy to speak. He rested inside of you, completely content with holding you there as he soaked up the last bit of intimacy the moment had to offer. Your brain was abuzz with thoughts, all pertaining to him, and for once, there was nothing negative. Finally, you were at peace, completely comfortable with the man before you. It felt right. You couldn’t deny the fact, and you were over the moon with the outcome of the entire ordeal.
Eventually, he leaned forward, placing one last, gentle kiss to your lips. It was sweet, soft, and exactly what you needed to come back to earth. A small smile was tugging at his lips as he studied your face, and finally, he spoke. The words were quiet, barely noticeable over the sound of your beating heart, but you clung to them as if it were necessary for survival.
“Let me take you out to dinner. Let me do this right.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him. Your bare chest rested against his own, his arms around your waist and as he held you tightly.
“You sure Little Miss Sunshine isn’t too much for you?” You teased, a tired smile crossing your lips as you rested your forehead against his.
“Never too much for me, sweetheart.” He shook his head, looking over the entire picture before him. He had never felt so lucky in his entire life, and he was so grateful that you decided to take a chance on him even after he’d been so rude to you. As he watched your face, he realized he was almost more excited at the prospect of sleeping next to you than he was over having sex with you. “Little Miss Sunshine’s all mine, now.” He said as a matter of fact, turning his head upwards and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I can get used to that.” You breathed, unable to express just how happy you were at the sound of his words. After having him in such a way, you would be stupid to let him go.
“I think I can, too.” He smiled against you, soaking up the warmth of loving you openly. You let your eyes close, leaning against him, content with staying in the position for a little while longer. The warmth of his body was alluring, and for a brief moment, you thought you might fall asleep right there in his arms.
You couldn’t believe the night had come to such a climactic end, and you never would have thought you and Jake would end up in a position like such. You were happy, relieved even that all the years of struggling to connect turned out to be a misunderstanding at the very core. You were excited for dinner, you were excited to share a bed with him, wrapped up in his arms all night long, and you were excited to know him. Finally, you could delve into more than superficialities and small talk about the weather, and you could know the boy that always seemed to make your heart beat just a little faster.
Despite all of the new and exciting things, there was still one thing that remained true amidst the chaos, and that was the fact that under no circumstance would you ever let it slip that Sam was right, because both of you knew that you would never live it down.
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tripthelightfandomtastic · 17 days ago
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Teach Me.
D.R.W x S.F.K x Reader
Author’s Note: This is my Christmas gift to y'all! I've put together a full version of the two part Wild Wednesday posts I wrote recently. I really am so proud of how these came out and I wanted to put it into an easy read so you didn’t have to scour my WW tags and risk it just kinda falling to the ether. I may do this again in the future, depending on how this goes.
Synopsis: Being in a relationship with Danny and both of you having long lasting sexual tension with Danny 's best friend, Sam. A beautiful night of showing Sam what makes you and Danny feel good.
Word Count: 2.7K (quick and easy threesome)
Pairing: Danny x Sam x Female Reader
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Foul language, oral, threesome, light dom/sub, raw sex (Wrap it before you tap your boyfriend and his best friend)
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Teach Me. -D.R.W x S.F.K x F. Reader
All I can picture is being friends with Sam and dating Danny. Always having this constant sexual tension between you, and seeing it also with Danny and his best friend. After a drunken evening with Danny, you find out that Sam and him kissed on New Years once. It was a one time thing, but it felt good. You keep thinking about the idea of Sam and Danny kissing, and you wish to be in the middle of it one day.
Somehow, some way, you find yourself in the middle of your fantasy. Danny loves showing you off to Sam, showing what makes you feel good, and you can't help but pipe up. "Can I show you what makes Danny feel good, Sammy?" You ask, standing there in the middle of the bedroom, both Sam and Danny watching you. "Yes, please." He whispers, a little nervously.
"Sit on the edge of the bed. Both of you." You ask teasingly. The friend's look at each other before sitting, you can't help but look at them like this. So toned, soft skin, side by side, hard and wanting. You drop to your knees between Danny's legs, moving your hair aside. "He loves to watch the way I suck his cock." You smile at Sam as you take Danny's hard member in your hand. "I pump his cock slowly at first." You say as you demonstrate, Sam's eyes glued to your motions. "Then I lick his tip just like this." You let your tongue gently lap at Danny's tip, relishing in the attention as Danny moans, letting his head fall back. "Then I take him into my mouth, like this." You whisper, before leaning in and taking Danny's cock down your throat, slowly taking him inch by inch. Danny groans, his hand in your hair as you bob your head up and down on him.
"Fuck." Sam breathes, his hand slowly pumping his own cock. You slowly come up and off Danny's dick and look up at Sam, "You wanna try?" You smile up at him sweetly, heart slamming in your chest. "I can show you, again." You tease as you make your way between Sam's thighs, replacing his hand with your hand, wrapping around his achingly hard cock. It's so pretty, soft and warm against your palm. "I think you should show him baby, Sammy's a visual learner." Danny smirks as he leans in and kisses Sam's neck. Sam's eyes roll back in his head as he loses himself for a moment, sandwiched between his two friends. "Pay attention, Sammy." Danny whispers in his ear. "Yes, sir." Sam quips, a lazy stoner smile on his face.
Both boys look back at you. "I touch him just like this." You say, pumping slowly, watching Sam's thighs flex at your touch. "Then I lick his tip like this." "Mhmm," Sam's voice shakes as he watches Danny's hands playing with his nipples. You let your tongue explore the soft expanse of Sam's tip, loving the feeling of salty precum on your tongue. "That's my good girl." Danny grins as you pull off, letting a gentle bit of spit cover his tip and down his length. "Then take him deeper into your mouth." You repeat, bringing your open mouth down Sam's cock, pumping the rest into your mouth as you begin to take Sam's dick into your throat. Moaning around him as you do. "Fuck sake." Sam breathes, his hand tentatively touching your hair. "Go ahead Sam, show her how much you like it." Danny assures. Sam moves his hand into your hair, so gentle still as he moves your hair to the side and guides you along his length, your nails raking up his thigh as you do so. "God, you're so pretty." Danny whispers to you, "So pretty." Sam agrees gingerly.
Sam surprises you by guiding you off of him, "Can I try? Please?" He asks eagerly. Your eyes glisten from taking him deep, "Mhm." You respond, excited to watch. You move to be next to Danny's knee, watching as your boyfriend follows Sam's movements to be on his knees in front of him. You move Sam's hands up to relax on Danny's thighs. "Start here, be sweet and kiss here." You whisper in his ear, watching as goosebumps raise on Sam's skin. His hands relax onto both Danny's thighs, gently feeling the muscles underneath. He leans in and places tender kisses against the skin of both inner thighs. "Good boy." Danny coos, hand gently running over Sam's cheek to his jaw, thumb turning over his bottom lip, slowly. You could cut the tension with a knife.
"And you do just what I showed you." You whisper, watching as Sam moves a hand to Danny's cock. "So soft." Sam murmurs to himself, getting acquainted with the feeling. Danny sighs as he watches Sam pump his cock lazily at first, increasing in speed just a tad. Sam leans in on his own, gently kitten licking at Danny's cock. Danny lets out a hiss as he tries to control himself, locking eyes with Sam. You can't help but begin to touch yourself as you watch, just taking in the sight as Sam lets a little bit of saliva dribble down Danny's shaft, wetting it for his hand and bringing his mouth down the length. "Go slow, pretty boy." You whisper, moving closer to Sam, eyes on Danny as you reach around and tug on Sam's own cock. A moan reverberating from Sam's throat and around Danny, making Danny groan, his eyes flutter shut for just a moment.
"Good boy, Sammy." You whisper, your hand slowly pumping his cock, making him sigh as he begins to take more of Danny. "Fuck, Sam." Danny's hand relaxes into Sam's hair, he gently takes his hair up into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide him up and down.
Sam gags a bit on Danny's cock, but presses on, a tear rolling down his cheek. "There he is, good job sweet boy, keep going, just like that." You rasp against his ear, pumping him faster now. You can tell Danny is close, the way he moans, how his head falls back, his lips parted. "Come on Sammy, wanna watch you cum." You smile as your thumb rolls over the tip of his hard cock, Sam hums around Danny's length, making Danny's grip in Sam's hair tighten. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck." Danny mumbles out, "Want to watch you swallow it all." You say, egging Danny and Sam on, knowing just how bad they each want it.
Sam pumps Danny's cock into his mouth, using his hand for what he can't fit in his throat. "Baby the tip of his cock, Sammy. I know he loves it." You advise, also doing the same thing to Sam with your hand. You watch as he arches his back, moaning around the tip of Danny's cock.
Danny's hand is like a vice grip on Sam's hair, holding him still as he cums down Sam's throat. Sam eagerly swallows it all, every last drop, "Oh Sam. Oh fuck Sam." Danny whimpers as he cums, Sam can't help it, cumming in your hand. He pulls his mouth away, moaning and whining as he cums hard for you both.
You can't help but grin as you look at these two gorgeous men. Sam wraps his arms around Danny, his head in his lap, Danny hunched over Sam, playing with his hair as they both catch their breaths. "So good. You tasted so good." Sam whispers, turning to look up at Danny. Danny kisses Sam deeply, tasting himself on his best friend's tongue. Danny hums against his lips. "Had a good teacher." Sam breathes, looking at you. You blush, moving closer to the two of them.
Sam kisses you before giving you to Danny to kiss. "So can we do this again, soon?" You ask looking to them. "Of course. I gotta know what makes you tick next." Sam smiles against your neck. "Why wait?" Danny speaks, kissing your neck. 
"No time like the present. My girl has done such a good job, being so sweet to both of us, I think she deserves some of our attention, don't you think Sammy?" Danny coos in your ear, kissing up your neck, his hand cradling your jaw. "Mm, the teacher becomes the subject." Sam smirks, kissing up the other side of your neck. You feel like you could burst into flames with the way their touches feel on your body. "Y-Yes please." You submit without a fight, not wanting to wait for your turn after being so terribly teased from watching Sam suck off your boyfriend.
"You're gonna love playing with her, she's such a good girl for me. You're gonna be a good girl for Sam, baby?" Danny asks, turning your face to him, your eyes hooded with lust. "Yes, sir. I can be good." You whisper, a subtle quiver in your voice, you can hardly wait. "Good, pretty girl." Danny whispers against your lips, kissing you deep. He pulls away from you, looking over to Sam, "You want to ask her to lay down, Sammy? I don't think our girl deserves to wait any longer." Danny says, ever the mind reader.
"Lay down, pretty girl." Sam smiles, lending you a hand to help you onto the bed. You relax into the pillows, your heart slamming in your chest. The two boys kneel on either side of your body, their eyes feasting over your figure. You should feel semi nervous, but you can't help but feel so safe. You know they only want to make you feel good. Danny's hand runs up your inner thigh, up to your pussy. You sigh out a moan, "Oh Sammy, she needs it bad." Danny smirks as his fingers run up from your pussy to your clit, the collective wetness on Danny's fingertips make your mind melt as he begins to swirl your clit under his middle finger with ease. "Just feel how wet she is for us." Danny invites Sam closer, his hand dragging along the expanse of your inner thigh. You spread your legs wider, showing off just how much you need it. Sam's fingers glide gently inside of you, you moan as his long, slender fingers press ever so slowly inside of you. "Oh fuck." Sam whispers, his cock bounces, so hard with need again. "You're soaked." Sam smiles, his eyes holding yours, you can't help but blush. The sound of your own wetness fills the room as Sam's fingers slowly move in and out. "That's my girl." Danny smiles at you, his fingers on your clit combined with Sam's make you cry out, your eyes fluttering shut as your hips buck.
"Not yet, baby doll. We're just getting started." Danny grins, his hand moving away, prompting Sam to follow suit. You can't help but whimper in frustration. "Danny, please." You whine, your thighs pressing together for some sort of relief. "Spread your legs baby, let me show Sam how you like to cum on my face." Danny asks softly.
You follow his order, letting Danny lay between your legs, making himself at home while Sam moves closer to your hip so he can watch. Danny's hands run softly up your legs and rest on your thighs, his eyes closed as he kisses you on your thighs. "She likes it when you start slow, don't you, baby?" Danny speaks quietly between your thighs. The warm air from his lips makes you practically buzz with excitement. "Yes, sir." You smile shyly. "Kiss her just like this, she feels so soft and warm." Danny explains, kissing you sweetly, pressing wet, lazy kisses up both inner thighs. "Then, slowly, bring your tongue up through her folds." Danny says, his tongue gently trailing up your wetness, making you sigh gently at the sensation of his cool tongue. "You see? She loves it. Don't you, princess?" You nod quickly, "Mhmm." You whine. "Then a few more times, just like that." Danny says to Sam, almost ignoring your whimpers. Danny's hands go to your hips, pulling you closer, your legs propping up out of habit, giving Danny a place to bring his hands, pulling your thighs to lay against his shoulders. "See? She knows how she wants it." Danny smirks to Sam, who is now lazily pumping himself as he watches. Danny closes his eyes, his tongue moving quicker on your clit, your back arches as he hums out a moan against you. Sam lends a hand to Danny, moving hair away from his face. It makes you go crazy watching them like this.
Soon, Danny pulls away and sits back up, kneeling next to Sam. "You wanna make my girl cum for you?" Danny asks Sam. Sam nods quickly, "God, yes, please." Sam answers. The two trade places, and you're already a dizzy mess. "Kiss her thighs, get her comfortable." Danny says, his eyes flitting up to you, his hand on your calf as he watches from your side so he can watch.
Sam kisses your thighs, his eyelashes tickle as he looks up at you and then over to Danny. He follows Danny's instructions, moving his tongue to your pussy, licking gently through them. You and Sam both sigh softly, "She does taste good." Sam murmurs, almost to himself. You can't help but blush as Sam loses himself in tasting you. Lapping you up, ever so gently. "Faster Sammy, right against her clit, she'll-" as Sam follows Danny's prompt, your hand moves into Sam's hair, your legs spreading open. "She'll do that." Danny grins as your hand tightens in Sam's hair, earning a moan from Sam. "Good boy." Danny whispers before kissing Sam on the shoulder.
It feels so good, your legs begin to shake, "Oh god Sam." You cry out, "There you go Sammy, latch your lips around her clit and suck." Danny comments, Sam follows. You cry loudly, eyes squeezed shut as your legs clamp around Sam's head. Sam moans as he presses his hips against the mattress, "She's close, dig your fingers into her hips and pull her closer, she tries to fight it but she knows she's close." Danny eggs Sam on, knowing just how you like it. Sam's hands grip tightly to you, his tongue flat as he moves his head back and forth, Danny's hand on the back of Sam's head, whispering in his ear, "Good boy, just like that."
You are losing your mind, crying out Sam's name. Danny tells Sam to move his fingers inside of you, filling you up while he laps quickly at your clit. You can feel your release coming fast, Sam's long fingers brushing deep inside you while his plump lips latch around your clit. Your grip in his hair is tight as your hips buck, but Sam's mouth never leaves you. "There she is. Good girl, let it go. Let him taste it. Let Sammy feel you on his tongue." Danny says, his voice like silk in your ears. You can't stop until you cum all over Sam's mouth, "Don't over stimulate her, just let her come down slowly, lap it up gentle and slow." Danny says softly, his hands caressing your face and moving your hair from your forehead. "Such a good girl for us. Always so good." Danny whispers to you, kissing your cheek, up to your lips.
You search for your breath in the haze. Losing grip on what's real. Sam lays against your thigh, just like how he did Danny's. You play with Sam's hair as you both come back to life. Sam slowly sits up, lips, cheeks, and chin shining with your cum. Danny smiles, pulling Sam into a kiss with his hand holding Sam's jaw. "She tastes good on your tongue." Danny whispers against his friend's mouth.
Sam moves to you, laying beside your form, kissing you deeply, his tongue in your mouth, letting you taste yourself. "Mmm." You hum against his lips. The three of you lay in a heap, you cuddled in-between your lovers, their hands softly wandering your body. "You did so good, Sam." You smile, your fingers running through Sam's hair, he grins at you. "I had a good teacher."
My lovely tag list:
Tag list:
@tripthelight-fanfic @emsgvf @ageofstardust @dakotadovato @screechesincoherently @gretavankleep37 @strangeh0rizons @capturethechaos @kiszkathecook @jakeslovehandles @depressingdarlin @gretavanfleas @prophetofthedune @josiee-gvf @doodle417 @readthinkbeme @katie-gvf @lallisonl @toxbexannouncedx @kdarling1 @theweightofjake @greatervanfleet @foxylotus @highladyofasgard @joshkiszkas @badgvf @greta-van-simp @sunandthemoontwinflames @cassy-face @mindastreamofcolours
(If you'd like to be added or your handle has changed lmk!)
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whollyfree · 1 year ago
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Let's Talk
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Summary – You have a hard time watching Jake be ogled, and he has a remedy to remind you what's yours.
Pairings – Jake Kiszka x F!Reader
Word Count – 3.1k
Warnings – 18+ MINORS DNI!!! oral (f!receiving), face-riding, unprotected sex, dumbification, LOTS of dirty talk, cockwarming if you squint, spanking, mentions of alcohol
You had really fucking had it this time.
Was it a normal thing for Jake to be ogled? Yes! How could he not be? 
It was far too easy to find yourself staring at him; so you truly couldn’t blame anyone else for doing so. With an air of confidence, he enters a room and every eye falls onto him. 
He is an enigma to all (except you, of course) and it felt like damn near every girl at that godforsaken bar was on a mission to have his eyes so much as glance their way. He knows this, of course. How could he not?
But behind his mysterious, debonair exterior, he’s Jake. Your Jake. Your soft, sweet Jake who raids your pantry to make you breakfast in bed and fills your car with gas because “why do you ever let your tank run that low?! It’s not safe!” he had argued (but he still fills it up every time). 
He’s your loving, tender Jake who litters you with kisses at any given moment and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck when the poor thing feels as if he isn’t getting enough of your attention. That, and he can’t stand not to be touching you in any form or fashion. He’s just like a little lovesick puppy!
And no matter how hard you try to remind yourself of these things, to be rational, you can’t help but have to bite your tongue. The jealousy eats away at you and it infuriates you to no end. You hate yourself for it.
Which is why tonight at the bar, you bit your tongue so hard you’re sure small trickles of blood had seeped their way into your mouth. Jake stood by the bar; an arm securely wrapped around your waist as he beckons the bartender over with a simple raise of his fingers. 
Of course, when it’s Jake, it’s not hard to get anyone’s attention; unwanted or not. And that was abundantly clear from the blonde at the end of the bar, twirling her straw in her cocktail as she eyed your boyfriend. 
Her eyes moved up and down, and you notice they became stuck on his exposed chest and silver necklaces dangling against his tanned skin. And, oh god, do you hate her for it.
Stop it. Your conscience pleads with you to (for lack of a better phrase) chill the fuck out!
Jake could tell you were a bit pouty. He knows you all too well. And just as assumed, he knew he was being eye-fucked by the blonde at the end of the bar (and one hidden away in a booth in the back, but like hell he was planning on telling you that).
Part of him hates himself for finding your jealousy so amusing. And in all honesty, if he saw a man looking at you the way that women have looked at him, he’d be raising hell.
“You okay, baby?” He grins as the two of you walk into your home after your excursion to the bar, tossing his car keys on the kitchen counter.
“Mhm.” You hum. Short and sweet. He won’t expect a thing, right?
You’re kidding yourself and you know it.
“Yeah?” He replies, crowding your space immediately from behind. He takes the curves of your hips in each of his palms, his breath tinted with the Maker’s Mark he had a glass of at the bar. Top shelf only for him, of course. “You were awfully quiet tonight. Getting shy on me all of a sudden, princess?”
You can hear the subtle teasing in his voice, and you’re sure he knows exactly what you were sulking for. But you simply answer, not ready to give yourself away too quickly. “No, just tired is all.”
“Just tired is all,” he mocks you with a low chuckle. You’re a terrible liar, always have been. “It’s cute that you think you could ever lie to me.” He adds, lips grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck – it already feels too much but not enough. 
And when his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, you feel a rush of heat between your thighs, and you swear your knees may give out. How he’s able to turn you into a puddle of yourself so quickly? You’ll never know.
“Come on, princess,” he sounds, and just like that it’s over. His hands are removed from your hips and he moves in front of you, his arm outstretched to you and his body facing the stairs. “Let’s go to bed then if you’re so tired.”
You try to hide your huff of annoyance, aching to have his touch again after being subjected to watch women drool over him all night. So you decide, no, you’re not going upstairs. Your arms cross over your chest like an insolent child who didn’t get what they wanted. Stubborn and spoiled. And your act of defiance is certainly not lost on him.
“No?” He quirks up an eyebrow at you, “Is the princess suddenly not tired? Sure are moody, though. What’s that about?”
God, you hate him. You hate that he’s finding your frustration the slightest bit entertaining. He’s taunting you, dangling the carrot in your face just to see you bite back.
He huffs out a laugh at your silence. “Oh, so we don’t wanna talk now, hm? That’s alright. We’ll see how long that lasts.”
Before you can even blink, you’re thrown over his shoulder like a rag doll. A surprised shriek slips out of you as he trudges up the stairs and in the direction of your bedroom. Smaller in stature he may be, but weak is not a way you would ever describe him.
“Jake!” You scold him, not having any of his shit right now. “Put me down!”
“Oh, so we are talking now?” He muses, depositing you on the neatly made bed. He hovers over you, standing at the foot of the bed where he practically threw you on it. 
“How about this then, princess?” He taunts, “Since you’re suddenly in the mood to talk, I say we play a little game. You talk, I listen.”
Seems easy enough…a little too easy. 
“Everything off.” There it is.
He strides over to the bed, climbing on before laying on his back. His head rests against the pillow as you continue eyeing him, slowly peeling your clothes off your body until your stark naked and sitting on your heels on the bed.
“So obedient, my pretty girl. And so fucking beautiful when you listen, aren’t you?” He coos. “Come have a seat, princess,” he beckons, still fully clothed, “talk to me.”
With a bite to the inside of your cheek, you rise from your sitting position to straddle his lap. And just as you begin to settle yourself – 
“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “Not quite, baby.”
Your incredulous look makes him laugh. What else could he have wanted?
“Come on,” he encourages, placing his hands on your hips. “Up you go, princess.”
With a quick slap to your ass, he hoists you up further. Your eyes go wide and you yelp at the crack of his hand hitting your skin, your heart racing as your knees straddle either side of his head. 
“Good girl,” he praises, his hands trailing up the sides of your thighs and to your hips to keep you steady. “Go on, princess. Tell me what’s got you so pouty. Wanna help.”
Considering you’re at a loss for words and can’t think straight with him eye-level with your cunt, you suddenly don’t even know why you were upset to begin with. But another swat to your ass quickly brings you back to consciousness.
“F-fuck,” you whimper, your head falling down and fingers gripping his hair. “They were staring at you…at the bar.” You manage out.
“Yeah? Who was, princess?” He’s teasing you even more now, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your clit until you choke out his name and begin tugging on the roots of his hair. He knows you can’t answer; you’re already too far gone and he’s hardly started.
But your impending fear that he would stop has you rushing out the words through uneven breaths.
“The girls at the bar,” you croak out as his lips continue pressing small kisses to your bundle of nerves. “Hated the way they looked at you. I was fucking jealous. I’m sorry.”
Pleased with your answer (even if he already knew it), he grins. And you can feel it against you before he presses one final kiss to your pearl.
“But you see, princess,” he says, smoothing his hands over your hips. “No one else gets to have this. Just because they see my face, doesn’t mean they get to fuck it like you do, do they?”
“N-no.” You reply, desperate to feel his mouth on you again.
“Good girl,” he croons. “And what they don’t know is that I get to have my face fucked by the prettiest little pussy whenever I please. Get to have your scent all over me. ‘Cause it’s yours, isn’t it, princess?” 
“Yes, sir.” You peep, unable to form another word if your life depended on it. 
Not only were you insanely turned on and dripping because his face was buried between your thighs, but it’s also due to how he speaks to you with such dominance and authority. He could have you on your knees (both literally and figuratively) with the snap of his fingers.
With one more praise of good girl, he dives back in, immediately sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking against it like a man starved. You feel your eyes roll back, a whining desperate mess above him. The tugging on his hair only gets tighter as he grips your hips to keep you against him.
You’re sure there will be marks, and you aren’t mad about it either. You need him tethered to you in every way possible.
He expertly licks through your folds, tongue gently prodding at your entrance as his nose brushes your clit. You can’t fight the whimper that leaves your lips, your pussy fluttering around the tip of his tongue. And when he groans at the feeling, you swear you’re done for.
“Jake,” you gasp, tightening your hold on his hair. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He hums against your cunt, flicking your arousal against your clit before sucking it past his lips once more. 
“Yeah, princess? Feel that sweet little cunt fucking squeezing my tongue. That feel good? Feel good to take what’s yours?”
And before you have time to catch your breath, his tongue finds your entrance again. He wastes no time going harder, faster this time. His tongue fucks into you relentlessly, nose nudging your clit in perfect timing. It’s sloppy and wet and downright sinful.
You can hardly register when it happens, you’re so far gone, but you cum hard against his tongue. Grinding your hips against his tongue to chase the feeling for as long as your body will allow while you cry out his name like a hymn.
And he can’t get enough of it either, ravaging you and swallowing every bit he can muster until you pry yourself off of him. 
You look him over, his mouth, chin, and nose glistening with remnants of you. It’s enough to stir you back up again, your overstimulation be damned. Your lips crash into his, and he’s eager to capture them with his own, maneuvering you to straddle his lap. 
“Fuck, my sweet girl,” he breathes out. “Did so fucking good. Came so hard for me. Could eat that pussy until it suffocates me, I swear.”
You gasp when you feel his hardened cock through his jeans that he wore out make contact with your swollen clit. 
Grinding against him, you whimper against his lips at the new feeling bubbling within your tummy. He groans, feeling the slightest bit of relief as you grind against him. With the amount of wetness you felt between your thighs even after your orgasm, you’re sure that you’re absolutely soaking the fabric.
“This what you want, baby?” He murmurs. “Want my cock? Wanna fuck what’s yours?”
“Please.” You whimper, grinding down against him with a bit more force this time before moving your hips upwards to allow him to undress.
He practically moans when he sees the wet splotch of your arousal on the crotch of his jeans. “Fuck, princess. So fucking wet for me.”
“Jake, please,” you whine, tugging at his pants in an effort to make him move faster. 
“Oh, my needy little thing.” He teases, resuming pulling his pants down along with his boxers. “Just had her pussy fucked with my tongue and can’t wait for more, can you?”
You shake your head no, trying to will yourself to calm down. You don’t want him to think he has the power, even though he knows all too well that he already does.
“I know, princess.” He soothes you with his tone, tossing his pants and boxers on the floor along with your clothes. 
His dick stands tall, pressed against his stomach as precome leaks from the slit on the swollen head. He gives himself two languid strokes with his fist, hissing at the feeling. “Can’t wait to have you wrapped up around me…all tight and sweet and warm- fuck, come here, baby. Take it. Take what’s yours.” 
You’re quick to crawl back to him, desperate to have him inside of you as you grasp his shoulders for balance. Using one hand, you grasp him, whimpering when you feel his crown just lining up with your weeping hole. 
Jake holds your waist, patiently waiting for you to sink down around him. And when you do, you could cry from how good and full you feel already. You keen as you feel the familiar and pleasurable sting that only happens when he’s this deep inside you. 
“Shit,” He hisses, fighting the urge to fuck upwards into you. “Feels so good, princess. This cock is yours, baby. Everything is yours.”
And that’s more than enough to encourage you to begin riding him, rolling your hips back and forth at an even pace. You whine and mewl from above him as he holds your waist, encouraging you with each movement you make.
You’re both a complete wreck already. Jake is already so close to coming and you’d hardly started moving your hips against him.
“Whose cock is this?”
You hated when he made you talk. You could listen to him go on and on all day about nothing that truly mattered (especially in bed). But you hate having to talk as well. You feel like you were nowhere near as good at it as he is.
In hopes that he’ll somehow forget what he asked, you resume your movements and peel your eyes away, beginning to go faster in hopes that you’ll truly distract him. But that sure as hell doesn’t work.
“Uh-uh,” He scolds, using his free hand to take your chin and turn it to face him. Eye-to-eye. “Eyes on me, princess. Now tell me whose cock this is. Wanna hear you, sweet girl. Tell me nice and loud.”
You’re embarrassed. If your cheeks could turn any darker in this moment, you’re sure they would. And you don’t want to answer him, suddenly bashful even when he’s buried inside of you as you bounce on his cock. 
Displeased with your lack of a response, he angles his hips upwards, meeting you halfway to send himself deeper into the depths of your cunt. It catches you off guard to say the least, but only causes you to move faster, further onto him to chase that feeling again.
“It’s mine, sir,” you whine, words rushed and breathless. “It’s mineit’smineit’smine!” You continue, drunk off his cock and so close to coming you can’t hardly stand it.
Jake groans, continuing to push his hips upwards. “Yes, princess. My good fucking girl. It’s fucking yours.”
You want him to come harder than he ever has; want his cum deep inside you because it really is yours. He’s yours.
“Taking me so well, princess.” He pants. “Riding me so fucking good. Go on, baby. Want you to come again. Soak my cock, baby.”
Your words become mush, incoherent babbles as you continue fucking yourself on him. You can’t hardly breathe anymore, your chest heaving for breath as you feel the knot inside of you threatening to snap.
“Oh, princess…” he coos, “My dumb little baby. Can’t even get a word out when my cock’s buried inside you. Can’t even help it, can you?” He snaps his hips upwards more forcefully than before, an unforgiving pace that allows you some sort of reprieve from the burning in your thighs.
The moan that rips from your chest would have caused you to curl in on yourself in embarrassment, but right now you can’t seem to care. The way he’s fucking into you, the way he’s speaking to you…it’s too much for your already fucked-out brain to handle.
“Gonna come!” You muster out, your voice cracking as you grip his shoulders tighter.
“Yeah?” Jake taunts, still snapping into you as your pussy contracts around him. “Do it, princess. I can feel you fucking squeezing me so tight- fuck, baby. Gonna make me fucking come, aren’t you?”
You want to answer him; you really do. But all you can muster is a nod as your orgasm rips through you, your mouth dropping open and your cunt locking down around Jake as it fights to keep him inside. Your ears ring as you pulse around him, unsure if you’re making noise or not at this point. 
Jake’s orgasm washes over him, choking out a moan of your name as he buries himself as far as he can. He spills inside of you, cum spurting from his swollen tip and into you. You feel him coating your walls as your vision returns to you, his eyebrows furrowed and sweat glimmering his forehead. 
God, he’s beautiful all the time, but especially like this.
The two of you are a breathless mess, feeling the his cum mixing with yours as it seeps down your inner thighs. You breathe out a laugh, your forehead falling against his as he wraps his arm around you.
“I’m yours, princess.” His voice is as soft as silk as he traces his fingertips along your spine. “You know that don’t you?”
You smile, lashes fluttering as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes your heart feel warm – even when you don’t deserve it; even when you’re acting like a brat.
“I do now.” You tease, attempting to bite back a smile but ultimately failing when you hear him giggle.
“Oh, princess,” He tightens his arms around you. “What are we gonna do with you?”
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hailthegodsong · 24 days ago
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Hailthegodsong’s Favourite Comfort Fics
This is just a little place for me to organise my favourite hurt/ comfort fics (physical and emotional hurt including sick fics) since it's my favourite genre. I'll probably add to this as I read more, but if you have a fic of your own or fic recs, please send them to me!! A lot of these fics include intense or potentially triggering content (hence the comfort) so please read the content warnings at the start of each story to keep yourself safe <3
Josh
Active Part II by @danakin-skywalker
Just Because I Love You by @hearts-hunger
He's the Sun by @gretavanfleetposts
Lover, Honey, Darling by @danakin-skywalker
The Music is You by @interstellarshores
Unwavered by @autumn-sunflowers
I'll Be Coming Home, Wait For Me by @ourtearsofrain
Hold Me Steady by @madneedshelp
Tender Love by me (sorry)
Beautiful by @gretavanbear
Dimly Lit by @bowievanfleet
January Blue by @hearts-hunger
Jake
Ache by @bowievanfleet
Safe by @hearts-hunger
Safe by @danakin-skywalker
By Her Side by @kissingkiszka
You Don't Even Know by @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine
T.K.O by @jakesdeviatedseptum
Honey, it's Alright by @ashisill
You're Safe by @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine
Let Me Take Care of You by @broken--stardust
Because You Loved Me by @losfacedevil
Permission to Fall by @chouxsardine
Sam
Nightingale by @tripthelightfandomtastic
I'll Be Your Medicine by @hearts-hunger
Off To Bed by @autumn-sunflowers
I'll Be Seeing You by @hearts-hunger
Sweet Peach by @hearts-hunger
Also, I'm so sorry Sam laners, but I just haven't come across many Sam comfort fics so if you have any recs please send them my way!
Danny
What You Deserve by @danakin-skywalker
Strawberry Juice by @gretavanfleetposts
Honeyglow by @hearts-hunger
Cold by @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine
He Would by @chouxsardine
Kiss My Scars by @ageofwagner
Kitkat by @hearts-hunger
That Smile by @danakin-skywalker
Love is Old, Love is New by me! (sorry again)
Reverse Comfort
Lavender Oil by @trip-the-cal-fantastic (Jake)
Sun Still Shines by @samkiszkasfacialhair (Josh)
Fallin' All In You by @losfacedevil (Josh)
Reassurance by @losfacedevil (Josh)
If you like any of these stories, please send the writer some love ♡ Thank you to all the talented people who spend their unpaid time writing these stories, I appreciate you more than you think ♡
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anthemofgvf · 7 months ago
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Teacher’s Pet: Sam Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction
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description: when college becomes more interesting from your history with your music professor, you decide to take him up on a private piano lesson to rekindle what once was.
word count: 6.6k+
trope: student reader x professor sam (college au!)
taglist for future fics
warnings after cut…
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warnings: large amount of plot, angst, smut (18+ minors dni!), voyeurism, soft dom! sam, fluff, teacher x adult reader, inappropriate relations, swearing, begging, fingering, oral (fem! and male receiving), handjob, overstimulation, praise kink, unprotected sex, minimal aftercare
a/n: this may not be everyone’s cup of tea, and that’s okay! would also like to reiterate that reader IS a legal adult. i figured that would be clear considering this is a college au but i just wanted to state it once before the story itself does. all actions are consensual, and i do not condone un-consensual acts. with that being said, enjoy;)
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Starting college at Michigan State University at the age of twenty-one, you walked onto campus with a sense of anticipation and determination that set yourself apart from your younger peers. Your journey to this point had been conventional, marked by years of playing piano at home purely for joy, and finding an intense passion for music itself. Now, as a music theory major, you were ready to immerse yourself in the academic study of music, eager to delve into the intricacies of composition, harmony, and the structures that underpin the art form you love. Your path to college might have been delayed, but your passion for music had only grown stronger with time, making your arrival at the university both a new beginning and a cumulation of years of dedication.
But you were gifted a surprise on your first day in your "Music Theory 101" class when you sat near the front - only a few rows back on the far left, and your professor walked in. The cool fall air of Michigan allowed for him to wear a navy blue long-sleeve and a multicolored-purple scarf, with grey plaid dress pants. He clearly was taller than most, but the boots that he paired with his outfit granted him a few extra inches.
You started to analyze the features of his face, seeing something so familiar in him that you couldn't quite pinpoint. His long, brunette hair that held a light wave with a well-kept mustache and goatee. Something about his eyes were the most recognizable to you with the way they scanned the room slowly, then focusing in on papers on his podium. And as soon as he began to speak and introduce himself to you and your peers, the memories came flooding back into your brain, and you had to hold yourself back from gasping. But you couldn't contain your eyes from widening.
"Hello everyone," he began, "welcome to 'Music Theory 101.'" He said with a smile. "I'm Professor Kiszka, and I'll be teaching this course. I've been teaching music theory for about three years now."
You knew who he was. He was Mr. Kiszka, or Sam, as back then you were able to call him that because he wasn't the hugest fan of being called 'Mr. Kiszka'. He was your student teacher your senior year of high school in your band class. He would help your teacher as if he were a teacher's aide, yet also helped teach the class and was a mentee to your teacher. You couldn't even believe your chances of having him as an actual teacher, let alone even seeing his face again. And God, how he has changed from the guy you once knew. But he'd always be 'Sam' to you, whether you'd call him by his first name or not. You preferred not to take your chances anyways.
You and he had created a small friendship, or better described as a mutualistic relationship, but it went nowhere beyond because being friends would cross the boundaries that the school board had put into place. But it was more than likely for the better, because you had a massive crush on him that accumulated over time with the semester. You were keen to his wit, his attention to detail - his talent in music. Not to mention he had a great sense of humor and was outgoing that paired perfectly with his great looks. You remembered being saddened that you were not going to see him again after your last class of the semester, and while although he gave you a hug and a smile, he had said to you,
"You'll see me again, y/n, I'm sure of it," with a wink.
And somehow, he had predicted the future.
After he gave the class a short introduction, which you surely had missed from reminiscing about the past, he had begun to read down the list of students for attendance. Your heart began to bang against your ribcage with anticipation, with wonderance of if he would even remember you. After all, you were just another student he saw in the school day.
"Y/n L/n?" He had called out, searching for you amongst the crowd.
You shot your eyes up, looking at him as you lightly raised your hand and said, "Here."
He smiled at you, the same smile he always wore. His eyes lightly squinted, and his face lit up with a knowing expression.
"You went to Frankenmuth High School, right?" He pointed his pen out to you with his teeth still on display.
"Yeah, yeah I did." You nodded.
You felt everyone's eyes on you - all 40 something students that filled the lecture hall. He remembered you, and you had forgotten how nervous you would get when his eyes lingered upon you for too long. Surely your face was flushed pink for the whole class to examine, but you were praying the lights were dim enough to hide your complexion.
"It's nice to see you again, y/n." He nodded towards you, closing his mouth to soften his smile and focus his attention back onto the list and calling out other names.
The entire class all you could do was watch his facial expressions, the way he walked and used his hands in conversation and lecture. The way his hair flew with his head whenever he changed directions, the way his voice articulated words. And, surely watching him give the class a demonstration on the piano was going to be the death of you. Time had made him more attractive, and his knowledge of you was somehow a worser fate than going unknown.
He put his whole body into his demonstration, leaning into the keys and throwing his head back every so often. His shoulders would raise in a rigid motion, then relaxing back down whilst his fingers danced along the white keys. You began to press your thighs tightly together and place your fist over your mouth as you watched him intently. You were unsure of how you were going to survive this class for a semester.
But after that first day, he had called you over to his podium. Although the conversation was light, asking you how you've been, wondering what you were going to college for exactly, you couldn't help but feel unprepared to talk to him. He always had a way with words, and anything that came out of his mouth was pure poetry. You just felt like you were blabbing nonsense to him. But he cared what you had to say. He laughed at your jokes, nodded along to show you he was listening. He had not changed one bit after all these years, other than time aging him only enough to present himself as more of a mature adult, but his striking personality stayed intact.
As the semester went on, and you stopping by Sam's desk every so often after class, assignments were assigned. One big project that was presented was to perform a cover on the piano that showcased your level of talent on the keys - 30 measures to be exact. A different assignment was given to those who were incapable of playing the piano, which was to compose a piece instead on an instrument of their choosing, but you took the route of playing on the instrument you enjoyed the most.
With this assignment, he had allowed students to make appointments with him during his office hours for free lessons and guidance on their piece. And as soon as he had announced this, you had booked an appointment.
And that's where you were headed right now: A one-on-one meeting with Professor Kiszka. To say you were nervous was an understatement. His attention was all yours, and there was no avoiding his gaze by sinking into your chair. The only thing that you had repeated in your head was that he was no stranger, and you knew how to hold a conversation with him. Act normal, you said to yourself, act normal.
You pushed open one of the large doors of the classroom that groaned and creaked as it allowed your entrance. Sam had his back to you from across the lecture hall, hunched over as he played a song that was unrecognizable to you on the piano. Whatever it was, it sounded beautiful.
The doors slammed shut behind you as you walked in, which caught Sam's attention. He whipped his head over his shoulder as his fingers relaxed from the keys, and he lifted his wrist up to examine his watch.
"Guess it is that time, huh?" He said out loud, although he was mainly speaking to himself. "Come on in, y/n."
"Forgot I was coming in, Professor Kiszka?" You said with a smirk.
"I'm always forgetting the time as it passes," he chuckled lightly, "surely you'll forgive me."
You walked over to him as he rose from the bench with a light smile, extending his arm towards the piano to motion for you to sit. He wore an ironed white button down, and worn-out jeans that have seen better days. Casual attire: a bit astray from what he normally wears.
You stopped in front of him. "I guess just this once I will." You said to him, then taking your seat on the bench and keeping your posture straightened.
"Alright, y/n," he shook his head with a smile, "what's your song of choice then? Can't pick anything you've played for me before."
You cocked your head to the side as you gave him a pondering look. "There's no way you remember anything I played three years ago."
He pressed his lips together and thought for a moment, then looking down to you with a smile.
"Maybe I do, or maybe I don't. Just seems like you're trying to stall on playing your piece for me." He said to you. "There's nothing to be nervous about, y/n."
You shook your head with a light sigh. "I'll have to test your memory another time then."
He nodded at you. "So, what piece of music did you choose?"
"I chose 'Rhapsody in Blue,' sir." You spoke to him. "I remember you performing it for the class after finals were over, and I've been in love with the piece ever since."
He seemed almost shocked that he had made such an impact on you, one that was still intact after all these years. He gave you an earnest, genuine smile as he placed his hand on his heart.
"It means a lot to me that I played an influential role in your musical journey. Did you learn it after I performed the piece?" He asked.
You nodded with a giggle. "Embarrassingly yes, yes I did." You refrained from eye contact as you felt your face becoming hot.
He raised a brow. "So, this is a piece you're familiar with?" You looked back to him with a singular nod. "Then what is your reasoning for spending time with me during my office hours, y/n? I never knew of you to not be confident in yourself."
You stuck your tongue into your cheek. "Just wanted to make sure that I was playing the piece up to par, and I so happen to enjoy our conversations. Figured we'd be able to catch up a bit during this meeting."
"Is that so, y/n?" He smirked at you. His tongue ran across his bottom lip as he looked down at you. It was almost as if there were words that lingered upon his tongue, yet he was unable to muster the courage to let them roll off smoothly. He had opened his mouth for a moment, then shut it with a grin. "Well, then how about we see how well you can perform this piece, huh? If there's enough time after, I don't see anything wrong with catching up a bit more." His grin was near seductive, although he was talking about a topic pure as white. Something about the way his eyes captivated yours that had your body telling you to either look away flustered, or to hold onto his eyes to match his intimidating gaze.
But rather than look at him any longer, you chose to take in a deep breath in preparation to perform for him. You straightened yourself up once more and saw him leave your sight from the corner of your eye.
"Just a bit too tense, y/n." He said softly to you, placing his hands onto your shoulders gently. "Relax for me."
As if that sentence alone didn't have you feeling even more tense, you closed your eyes and found it within yourself to relax, and to forget that it was Sam's doing for making your nerves skyrocket.
You began the piece, fluttering your eyes open and playing it as you learned it. Some of your mannerisms matched the way Sam played the piece - at least back then, just because you admired how beautiful he looked whilst performing. You were certain that if he hadn't become a teacher, he'd be on a stage performing in front of thousands.
You were lost in the music, lost in your motions and the way your fingers traveled alongst the keys in perfect harmony. So lost that you hadn't realized Sam's hands had left your shoulders, moving to stand near the front of the piano, watching you perform. All you could do was focus on playing as perfectly as you could for him, because if you were to look up and see his admiring stare, you would have forgotten the rest of the piece.
And so, you finished, watching your fingers dance along the last few keys and resting your hands onto your thighs, keeping your eyes down only for a moment before cautiously allowing yourself to look up and see his chin resting into his palm, wearing a large grin that he never seemed to wipe from his face.
"That was," he began to stride slowly towards you, "near perfection."
You followed his movements with your eyes. "Near?"
He sat next to you on the bench, holding onto your eyes. "You lost yourself a bit with the tempo, is all. I'm not shameful to a bit of artistic expression, but that would be for another project. But it's nothing that can't be fixed quickly."
"So, then it's a good thing that I made this appointment, hm? Without your expertise I wouldn't have known to slow down a bit." You said to him.
He huffed a laugh with an amused expression. "What's your game here? Sarcasm or flattery?"
You took a glance at his parted lips, locking eyes with him again. "Your guidance, Professor Kiszka."
He shook his head at you with a knowing look yet dismissing your counter remark and sliding closer to you.
"Well, for one, you should raise your arms a bit higher above the keys." He slid his hands under your forearms and raised them up slightly, being ever-so gentle with his touch. With how close he peered over your shoulder, you were certain if you were to turn to him, your nose would brush against his.
However, you wouldn't have been bothered by it if it were to occur. The opportunity presented itself when he had willingly brought himself even closer to you. Whether you would dare to do it was not on your mind right now, as you were tuning into the feeling of his coarse hands holding your forearms and making them weightless.
You could feel his exhaled breath just barely hit the side of your neck, and your body almost reacted with a shudder. Rather, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears, and suddenly you had become more aware of how many breaths you were taking in.
"And to help keep tempo," Sam slowly slid his hands off your arms, placing his hand lightly onto your thigh, "I'll tap on beat." He said as he began tapping onto your jeans lightly.
You dared to turn towards him and flick your eyes at his parted lips, locking onto his stare and feeling the inability to look away. You were certain the face you were displaying was one of desperation, of want.
But to him, it didn't appear that way. "Is this...okay?" He had said with a hint of worry. Maybe he didn't want to read into your facial expressions too much.
"Yes, yes it's okay." You gave him a reassured smile, along with a small nod, and tore yourself away from his gaze.
You began to play once more, trying to keep your mind on your fingers hitting the keys at the right pace rather than the fact that Sam's hand was on your thigh. The act was supposed to be innocent, a teacher merely helping his student perfect their piece, but to you, it was hard to feel anything pure towards your professor.
With the way his chin nearly rested onto your shoulder, to his steady breaths that matched yours as you played, to the low humming you could hear in your ear as your fingers danced along the piano. How did he expect you to focus when he was closer to you than ever before? When all you were thinking about was how easily it would be to kiss him, to give into him.
"What's on your mind, y/n?" He whispered to you.
You had continued playing, trying to keep up with the tempo he had set on your thigh.
"What do you mean?" You said without missing a beat.
"I can tell you're not focused. You're playing the piece properly, but your mind is somewhere else." He removed his hand from your thigh, which caused you to stop playing.
You turned to him. "I'm just a bit distracted, that's all. I'm sorry, Professor." You pressed your lips together, flicking your eyes down to avoid his gaze. A low sigh escaped his mouth as he watched gravity tilt your head down.
But then you felt his finger hook under your chin, lifting it up to meet his eyes. Every detail of his face was on display, and you couldn't focus your eyes on a single piece of his complexion - it was all something you wanted to remember so intricately.
"Am I distracting you?" He took a glance at your lips only for a discreet moment, then focusing in on your eyes and searched within them for an answer that you had yet to put out into the air.
"Maybe," you began, "what if I said that you were?"
Your bold statement had nearly taken him aback, with his hand removing itself from under your chin, and a light chuckle with the shake of his head as he composed himself. His hand ran to the back of his neck, then finding its resting place on the top of his thigh.
He leaned back slightly, the playful glint in his eyes dimming to something more contemplative. "Then I'd have to ask why," he murmured, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. "Why do you find me distracting?" The air between you seemed to thicken with unspoken words and unsaid possibilities, leaving you teetering on the edge of where his mind was at.
You took a hard swallow, tugging at the inside of your bottom lip and praying that you weren't about to make an embarrassing mistake.
Your heart raced as you decided to take the plunge. "Because" you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "I've never been able to keep myself composed long enough around you. And, now that we're alone, it's become increasingly hard to even think straight."
His eyes widened slightly, the seriousness of your confession hanging between you two like a fragile thread.
He moved closer, his warm breath just barely grazing the tip of your nose. "Maybe that's not such a bad thing," he said softly, his lips hovering just inches from yours, leaving you breathless and wondering if he was about to close the distance between you. "But you know what the rules are, right, y/n?"
"Do you plan on getting caught?" Your question hung in the air, heavy with implication. You felt a shiver run down your spine as the reality of the situation hit you. How the proximity had almost fizzled out in between you, the way Sam held your eyes in the most captivating way, taking only a millisecond to peak at your lips before returning to your gaze.
"Didn't know of you to be such a risk taker, y/n." He said to you with a steady voice.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips, trying to mask the nervous flutter in your chest. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Sam," you replied, your voice just as steady, matching his intensity.
His gaze flickered with curiosity and something deeper, something that made your pulse quicken more than it already was. "Sam?" He smirked. "As much as I like you calling me 'Professor,' I've missed hearing you say my name."
"I'll say it as many times as you want me to," you said softly, flicking your eyes to his lips before returning back to his gaze.
"Then start now," he murmured, his tone a blend of challenge and invitation. He inched closer, his breath mingling with yours, the space between you almost nonexistent now.
"Sam," you barely voiced.
"Again." He said as his lips were just barely brushing against yours. His hand gently traced the line of your jaw.
"Sam." You repeated for him.
He closed the remaining distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was a risk, practically whimpering into his mouth the second you got a taste whatever flavored ChapStick he wore.
His hand cupped your cheek, while his other hand rested on your thigh. You willingly fell into the touch, placing one of your hands onto his white button down, and the other beginning to tangle itself in his hair. You were merely breathless with the deepening of the kiss quickly becoming apparent, and now you were just desperate to run your hands under his shirt - to feel his warm skin under your touch.
Without unlocking your lips from his, you began to unbutton his shirt, and while he noticed, he allowed you to continue, pulling the shirt off of his shoulders and throwing it wherever it may land onto the ground.
His fingers crept under the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up to let every inch of your body feel that singular motion, and as soon as the tips of his fingers hit your bra, you were removing your mouth from his and finishing the job.
"You're eager." He teased at you, tugging at your bottom lip as he encapsulated your lips onto his again.
Instead of giving him a pitiful response into his mouth, you undid your bra with little struggle and threw it off of you whilst scooting yourself closer to your professor. His cold hands almost stung against your bare sides, yet soothed your heated skin as he ran them up slowly, finding your breasts and toying with them tenderly. A soft whine escaped out of your mouth, and in return, his mouth made its journey of running from your jawline, then to your neck, and to your collarbone.
Before you had even realized it, your hand was sliding down his chest, finding his bulge and cupping it. His groan vibrated against your neck, sucking lightly and digging his teeth into your neck as you threw your head back.
You had found yourself already breathless, squeezing your thighs together as your mind wondered to the inevitable. You lightly squeezed on Sam's bulge, hoping that he would mutter another sound for you to listen to.
But he removed himself from you with a heaving chest, unbuckling his belt as he stood up in front of you. While his eyes were first locked in at undoing the material holding up his pants, he then looked to you, pulling and shimmying off his jeans that were caught at his ankles. His briefs followed suit with his motion, and his cock sprung out in front of you.
Without hesitation, you had wrapped your hand around his length, keeping his eyes locked on yours as you pursed your lips and allowed spit to dribble from your mouth onto his cock. His mouth parted slightly, watching as your hand ran up and down him at an agonizingly slow pace. You gave him a small smile, one that had him caressing the side of your face and running his hand to the back of your head.
As he tousled with your hair, you pressed your lips softly onto his tip, then sliding him into your mouth. You watched as he threw his head back, groaning in a deep sigh and lightly tugging at the hair on the back of your head. You kept your hand pumping slowly at his base, while your head bobbed up and down his length.
The sensation of your soft, skilled mouth moving with rhythmic precision drew a deep moan from his lips. Your tongue danced expertly, exploring every inch, while your eyes remained fixed on his as he let his head fall back down towards you, drinking in every reaction. He was entranced with your motions and the way you effortlessly brought him such bliss.
His breathing had become unsteady, tugging at his bottom lip as he tugged your hair back which in return removed your mouth from him. You looked up to him eagerly, and in silence, he slowly fell to his knees at your mercy.
He looked beautiful bowed before you, unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans in a fluid motion, then dipping his thumbs under the denim, and wrapping his hands onto your sides that were hugged by the material. He slid them down slowly, and while doing so, you had lifted yourself up just enough to aid him in fully removing your jeans and panties. He had tossed them to the side, and once he looked back to you, your legs were pressed together.
You had found yourself shy with the vulnerability shared with him. Fully exposed to Sam, permanently imprinting this image of yourself in his brain that he would not dare to allow slip from his mind. His hands came to your knees as he noticed the sudden pink hue in your face.
"Open your legs for me, pretty girl." He said in a hoarse voice whilst he massaged your kneecaps. His demand was calm, and not one that meant to rush you. And you could feel the soothing, comforting energy that he was emulating in this moment that had you realizing he found you breathtaking - every single part of you.
So, you gave in willingly, looking at him with lustful eyes as you spread your legs apart slowly. His eyes were locked in onto your heat. Your bare form was being traced by his eyes, marveling at the curvatures of your body that seemed almost ethereal to him. He could not bring himself to speak a word, but rather sigh in reverence as his head inched closer and closer in between your thighs. It was if he was at your mercy, willing to give up anything and everything just to please you.
His lips pressed softly against the inners of your left thigh, and you had found yourself gasping lightly with a choked breath at the tender impact. Your hand relaxed at the back of his head as you massaged it, just as he did for you before, and a small grin curled onto his lips as he pressed more, soft kisses against your thighs, even sucking softly onto the skin. You were on the verge of begging for his mouth on you but resisted the urgency to see how Sam wanted to navigate himself around your body.
He raised his middle and ring finger to you, looking up at you submissively before uttering a soft, "open," to you. You quickly obeyed, parting your lips and letting him insert his fingers into your mouth, and resting them onto your tongue. You sucked slowly onto his fingers, swirling your tongue around his digits and allowing him to withdrawal them from your mouth.
And he kept his eyes locked on yours, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly inserted his two fingers inside of you. You gasped lightly, jolting forward with your back arched and your hands smashed onto the keys of the piano behind you as Sam curled his fingers. He broke from your eyes to see your hands clenched onto the keys and allowed a small smirk to curl onto his lips. He let that be his only reaction and continued to move his fingers.
You threw your head back as his other hand snaked up your body and lightly massaged your left breast. Your eyes were barely shut, mouth agape and allowing any sound bubbling in your throat out quietly. You had tugged onto the back of his head harshly as soon as you felt his tongue onto your clit, with your thighs squeezing tightly around his head and muffling your moans. As much as he wanted to push your legs apart to listen to every melodic sound that came from your mouth, he wasn't going take away from your bliss.
His tongue circled around your clit at a steady pace, with his fingers quickening to draw your moans out even more. You were tugging at your bottom lip as you rolled your hips into Sam's motions. You couldn't help but admire the view below you: your professor's eyes shut softly, seeming perfectly content in between your legs as he licked and sucked at your clit. He was already in tune with your body, knowing what made you feel good, and exactly what to do to send you over the edge.
You felt the knowing pressure in the pit of your stomach; a knot desperate to be unraveled by your orgasm. Your moans became strained - whiney.
"Sam, fuck, just like that." You slurred. Your hand had yet again found itself bracing against the keys of the piano, pressing a multitude of keys that didn't make the most beautiful melody, but the irony of that was it didn't matter what it sounded like. It mattered how it felt, which it perfectly conveyed.
You were arching your back away from the piano as your thighs trembled around Sam's head, calling out his name once more as your head fell forward and your breathing quickened. You alerted him of your orgasm, and all he did was continue his motions, calming them and seizing their existence after dragging out your high.
"You okay?" He looked up to you, removing his fingers slowly from your entrance and encapsulating them into his mouth to lick them clean.
You shuddered, and quickly swallowed and nodded at him.
"Yeah, yeah I'm okay." You laughed lightly.
He rose from his knees, standing before you still fully erect. You had forgotten how perfectly carved his abdomen was, how desirable him in his vulnerably, bare entirety was.
His fingers pressed from below your chin, lifting your eyes up to his own and holding a soft smile yet again.
"Are you okay to keep going?"
You smiled at him and his concern that just barely washed over his face.
"Yes, Sam." You nodded, reaching out for his face and him almost immediately complying.
He smashed his lips onto yours as you pulled yourself up from the bench. Your bodies melted into each other in a feverish rush, hands frantically exploring once more to remember the feeling of each other's skin. His hand had found the small of your back, guiding you to rotate to where you were now standing where he originally was.
His mouth kept on yours, slowly sitting down onto the bench and losing your lips with the action. You stood before him, watching his eyes fall to your thighs, where his hands began running slowly up and stopping at your waist.
He met your eyes again with his tongue darting out in between his lips. His touch was both tentative and possessive, as if memorizing every curve and contour. You could feel the heat radiating from his palms and igniting that fire once more.
He pulled you closer, his grip firm yet gentle, urging you to straddle his lap. As you settled into him, he had a hand on the base of his cock, dragging it alongst your sensitive folds that had you whimpering from the slight overstimulation. He looked to you once more to look for any sign of discomfort, but you placed your hands onto his shoulders, and lined yourself up with him.
You had sunk down onto him slowly and could not help breathing a relieved moan. He, on the other hand, released a guttural groan as you fully rested with him completely inside of you. His hands gripped onto your hips, breathing already unsteady, and beginning to guide you at a slow pace.
"Shit, y/n," he breathed, "you feel so perfect." He watched you grind your hips into him and continued. "You are so perfect."
You ran a hand from his shoulder and to his neck, finding his cheek and giving him a lustful smile. You were warm around his bare cock, tight and sucking him in perfectly. Your mind was dizzy with the thought of this all being a reality unfolding at this very moment; dizzy with the way he was making you feel.
You began to bounce at a steady pace, feeling his hips buck into you lightly to help alleviate some of the work on your end. He could tell you were tired. You were lazily chasing your next orgasm, although desperate for yours again and to help him find his, but your energy almost begged to deny it.
His left hand found a home onto the piano keys for leverage, lightly wincing at the sudden noise that filled the nearly silent room. You looked at him and smiled lightly, holding back your laughter at the noise.
"Doesn't sound too good." You teased.
He shook his head at you, furrowing his brows as he battled full euphoria taking over his being and disallowing a response from him. His breath came in short, ragged bursts as he tried to focus, the dissonant chord fading into the background of his awareness.
With a slow, deliberate movement, his thumb pressed into your hipbone, anchoring himself in the reality of your presence. The look in his eyes was a mix of passion and frustration, struggling to form words but failing as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed him.
You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, a silent promise that you understood. His fingers flexed on the piano keys, creating a soft, accidental melody that echoed the unspoken rhythm of your connection. Even when he's not trying, he can make something beautiful out of a small mistake.
Yours and his's movements became quicker, both of you voicing your satisfaction with breathy moans, mixing swears and each other's names into the lustful air. Your hand ran to the back of his head, tousling with the damp hair and resting your forehead onto his. You both were a sweaty mess, which had you and him sticking to one another. It would be a battle to unravel yourself from him after this, but you warranted that.
He had a harsher grip onto your hip. His fingers dug into the plush skin while his thrusts became unsteady. He removed his hand from the piano and let you carry the pace on as his thumb circled onto your clit. You called out to him in a hushed moan, feeling your second orgasm creeping up quickly. Even though you warned him, he did not care. He wanted that.
"Cum for me again, y/n." He quickened his finger, pressing down onto your lower stomach. "Cum. For. Me." He repeated with gritted teeth.
Your eyebrows pulled together, locking your eyes with his as you reached your high almost immediately and pulled your head back from him with a hand pressed against his chest. You trembled against him and rode yourself through your high, with a high-pitched gasp shooting out from your mouth while you squeezed around him. And although your head was still fuzzy, you kept going for him.
He muttered your name in a warning, lifting you up from his lap just enough for him to pull out from you. You had sat yourself onto the middle portion of his thighs, far enough for him to finish himself off by painting his stomach and hand with his cum. You couldn't tear your eyes from him as he heaved and looked at the mess he had made, lightly chuckling to himself. You found his laughter and matched it, tucking your bottom lip behind your front teeth and smiling.
He reached for your lips once more, pressing a gentle, meaningful kiss onto your mouth as he cupped your cheek with his dry hand. And once your lips parted from his, you found the pattern of his breathing and controlled your own to emulate his.
He lifted his wrist to look at the time, and you in turn gave him a puzzled look whilst throwing your arms around his neck.
"Have another appointment today?" You said to him with slight disappointment. You had almost forgotten where you two were.
"I unfortunately do." He replied. "And I'd suggest we should clean ourselves up now and make it look like we did not just have sex on this fucking piano." He chuckled.
You quickly obeyed, standing up quickly and running over to his podium where he had a tissue box. You knew you were to return home and shower, but for now, this would suffice. Besides, you didn't know how much time you had before a student would walk in, so both of you focused on yourselves.
You had found your phone and quickly switched to the camera to make sure your hair wasn't too much of a mess, along with your makeup. Thankfully, it was a quick fix for anything out of place, and you took care of it while Sam finished buttoning up his shirt.
After you had placed your phone in the back pocket of your jeans, you walked over to him.
"Do you do this with all of your students?" You questioned him with sarcasm.
He shook his head with a breathy chuckle. "Only the ones I like." He shrugged, catching onto your teasing.
You giggled at his response, choosing to leave the teasing behind in fear of the unknown amount of time you had left with him. "So, I'll see you tomorrow for class then?" You rocked on your heels.
"Well, I'd hope so," he smiled at you, sliding his hand onto your waist and pulling you closer. "Will I start seeing you outside of class, too?"
You felt a rush of warmth from his touch, a sense of comfort that had now been familiarized to you. "I think we can arrange that." You said in a playful manner as you placed the palms of your hands onto his chest.
His thumb traced small circles on your waist, his expression softening with a mixture of desire and affection. "Good," he murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against yours once more. "I look forward to it."
After you had parted from his lips again, you reluctantly pulled away from him and made your way to the doors of the lecture hall. You were hoping that whatever student was to come next wasn't outside already, because by the burning sensation that filled your cheeks, you could not hide that something had occurred beyond the lesson with him. With your professor.
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
taglist:
@hollyco @ageofhearingloss @sacredjake @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @gold-mines-melting @digitalcalamity @demolitionndann @lipstickitty @joopsworld @gvfgal @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye @writingcold @stardustcatcher @absolutely--mental @hippievanfleet @haileygvf @gretasfallingsky @dont-go-home-without-me @indigofallingsky @sinarainbows @laneygvf @josh-iamyour-mama @starshine-wagner @lyndz2names @jjwasneverhere @mulberrimouse @starcatcher-jake @lallisonl @jordie-gvf @mindastreamofcolours @peaceloveunitygvf
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seenoversundown · 23 days ago
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You're My Wishlist
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Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)
Warnings: 18+ Smut (warnings will be towards the end so if you want to skip them) Fluff, Christmas Cheer, Family time, A bit of yearning - which is silly because you got him Char come on girl, Sentimental moments, Cute cute cute, silly post sex comments- we know how Jake is lets be honest. SMUT WARNINGS: Oral (M & F) Hands going places, Unprotected Sex (do as I say, not as I do - WRAP IT UP, KIDS) some light ass related things, a lot of sexy commentary, lingerie, Jake is a MAN 🤭 (Soft Dom)
Word Count: 5.8k
Summary: Jake and Charlotte spend their second Christmas together, but lucky for Jake, she has a special present for him waiting at home.
Author's Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS- there was no chance that I wouldn't write something for the festive season, lets be real. I figured since Danny is rapidly approaching his time to shine, and we just left off with these two at Thanksgiving, I may as well wrap up the year with them one more time.
I hope you enjoy it!! This is absolutely not the last you'll be hearing from them- don't worry. They're sweet banter is just what we all needed for the holiday and to warm us up a bit! Okay okay, I can't wait to hear how you feel and I will see you on the other side! 🎄❤️
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A Nonsense Christmas - Sabrina Carpenter "You'll be Santa Claus and I'll be Mrs, I'll take you for a ride, I'll be your vixen."
It’s already our second Christmas we’re spending together, and getting to have him with me makes sitting with my parents a little more fun. He came with me last year, and it was one of the first times he really even met them, but thankfully, he’s so quiet and calm that they love him. 
This year is different because his parents decided to extend their little vacation and stay up here for Christmas. I think they missed all the boys last year, so now, we’re spending Christmas Eve with his family and Christmas Day with mine. It feels like we’re married already. 
The logistics of us spending both days together seemed ridiculous in my head— having to drive down and then back but having my car, and it was all just too much. I’m grateful that Jacob is the person he is; he switched the hours he was going to work with Josh so he could get me last night. 
After spending Thanksgiving with his family and then them being around since, today has been much less overwhelming. Getting to hang out with everyone is always so fun, even though we see most of them almost daily. It proves how attached Jacob and I are because we spend the entire time waiting for a reason to be next to each other.
This catches us up to where we are now; I don’t think he’s aware of how attractive he is, even when he’s not trying at all. He decided to wear the same outfit he wore when we kissed for the first time, whether he knew that or did it by accident— regardless, my mouth was watering over him. 
It’s just a flannel and jeans, really, but it’s how he looks in them. I just can’t help but think of how adorable he was that night anytime he wears even a variation of it. He’s actually a lot more covered than usual, but it’s only because of the cold. 
Now I’m standing here with his family, watching him from across the room, and I still get butterflies when I catch him staring back. I slide my phone out, quickly texting him. I know I could just go see him, but it’s more fun this way. 
Me: baby you look so good tonight 😍 
Seeing how he smiles at his phone before glancing at me, that man is mine. Mine, mine, mine. All mine. The smirk on his lips alone makes my knees weak. He looks back to his phone, typing quickly and then tucking it under his leg. 
Jacob 🖤:  just for you, beautiful 😘 
“So, how has work been for you?” His dad’s voice caught me off guard. 
“Oh!” I let slip out. I composed myself quickly and told him, “We’ve been so busy lately, but we were actually given a few days off because of the holidays, so I can’t complain.”
He chuckles to himself before quietly saying, “Hopefully, you get to enjoy your time off.”
With Jacob? Absolutely, I will. 
“How have things been for you?” I ask him. Listening as he tells me how they’re glad they stayed up here a bit longer, I see Jake walking over out of the corner of my eye. 
His arm slides around me, feeling his hand firmly planted on my side, keeping me close to him. I glance over at him, whispering, “Hi.” His little smile is enough of a response for me. 
His dad chimed in, mentioning something about the bar, but frankly, I was too focused on the handsome man I was attached to. 
Watching Jake as he starts telling him, “Yeah, actually, I just—“ 
And that’s about all I heard. I just stare absentmindedly at how his mouth moves when he talks or how he uses his hands. His fingers tap against me every so often as he explains things, but he always squeezes me or rubs my side when he stops. 
He glances over at me. “Well, I’ll let you two finish catching up, I think I’m being put on Santa duty this year.” Pressing a kiss to the side of my head, he carefully lets his hand run over my ass as he walks off.  
Santa, huh?
His mom sneaks over, her voice distracting me, “So, Jake said you’re seeing your parents tomorrow.” 
“Yes! They’re excited to see him, which is sweet.” 
“Oh, I’m so glad they like him,” she breathes out. A small giggle sneaks out of her as she tells me,  “I’m partial to him.”
“No, they love him,” I reassure her quickly. “I wasn’t super worried because he’s so laid back, but my parents being who they are definitely made me concerned for a minute.” My eyes go wide, and a slight cringe on my face. 
“Well, you never have to worry about us,” she says, grabbing my arm gently. “All of us love you and think you’re perfect for him.” 
“He’s pretty great,” I let out. Looking over at him again, I really do love him so much. “Hopefully, he keeps me around.” 
She laughs, which is oddly relieving. “Oh, don't be silly! Have you seen the way he looks at you? You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
“Good,” I giggle out quietly. “That means we get to hang out more, too,” I whisper, gesturing between the two of us. 
Her arm wraps around me quickly, “That’s the best part about it, isn’t it?” 
I find myself watching him as I hang out with his parents and Quinn, just listening to them ask Quinn about school. Even just him sitting on the couch, with the glow of the Christmas tree, he isn’t doing anything in particular other than existing– he’s so fine. I slide my phone out subtly, texting him and then tucking it back under my arm. 
Me: What if i said i want you to unwrap me like a present and play with me? 🥰
I can see him fighting a smile as he peeks over at me, shaking his head subtly. Watching him blush over little things is my favorite hobby. I have found it really precious that even after a year, he still gets flustered easily. 
Jacob🖤: honey 
I send him a little wink before I run off to help his mom with some snacks in the kitchen. Spending time with her during holidays has really become one of my favorite things. She’s quite possibly the nicest person I’ve ever met— her kids are absolutely a product of that. 
She was so welcoming to me, even after the situation when we started dating. It was almost like she knew something must have been going on prior to me having a conversation with her one-on-one. Thankfully, we do get along incredibly well, and I couldn’t wish for a better potential mother-in-law. Just thinking that I could call him my husband one day makes me sweat. 
Wandering back into the living room, I watch him rearranging the gifts closer to where everybody has slowly been sitting down. He grabs the stockings that his mom put together for everybody, setting them with their piles of gifts. It only takes a minute of being himself before I slide my phone back out. 
He spends a few more minutes organizing everything before sitting back in his spot on the couch. He glances over to me, a little smile on his lips. I silently just shake my phone, watching his eyes move down and then grabbing it from his pocket. 
Me: I can put on some tall socks later and you can stuff me instead 🤭
His eyes get wide reading my text, shifting a little in his seat as he rubs his face to help prevent himself from reacting. How is he so—? Looking up at me, but his stare felt different. I swear I could see his pupils dilate from across the room. 
His quiet voice, barely legible through the chatter of everyone else, “Come here.” His hand patted his thigh as he told me, and if anything was going to light a fire in me, it was that. 
His hand slid around my waist as I sat down on his lap; there was absolutely plenty of space that I could just sit next to him, but this was definitely more fun. 
“You’re taking this whole Santa bit seriously, huh?” I ask him quietly. 
His giggle made his body shake a little as he leaned forward. His face turned so only I could hear him. His voice lowered when he asked, “Have you been a good girl?” 
My heart about stopped; oh my god. Without hesitation, I carefully cross my legs, unprepared for him to say something like that. I never expected that to be so sexy. 
“What’s wrong, Honey?” his question taunted, as his hand squeezes my thigh just hard enough to make me sweat. I may tease him through text, but the moment he opens his mouth, I’m done for. 
“Nothing, baby,” I tell him, a small smile forming on my face. “Just excited to give you a present I forgot at home.” 
His eyes bounced to my lips and back before letting out, “Can’t wait.” 
The sound of wrapping paper ripping distracted the both of us quickly. 
The difference between our families is wild to see. I don’t know if it’s because all three of the boys, when they were younger, just couldn’t stomach waiting, but their parents just let them go wild with opening things. I just kind of watch for a second as they’re all handing gifts back and forth and starting to open them. 
My family is way more quiet, and it was only my sister and I, which, given our age gap, made it a lot easier for us to take our time with Christmas gifts. They typically let me go first since I was younger and too excited, but everyone took turns, so it was a drawn-out process in our house. 
Their parents just watched as everyone started opening things, and the loud chatter only got worse with the mix of ‘Thank you’s. It’s easy to tell that they love spoiling their kids, but I think they just like getting to spend time with them since they’re all adults now. Seeing how their parents treat them– it makes sense why all three of them are the way they are.
Unwrapping a gift from his mom, a deep forest green knit sweater sits in my lap. It’s so soft. I looked over at her, and she already had eyes on me, apparently. 
“Thank you,” I tell her excitedly. “It’s so cute!”
She blows a kiss at me, “You’ll have to show me whatever outfit you put together.” She shoots me a little wink before turning to Sam as he starts to tell her something. 
I could just watch all of them interact with each other and be happy about it. The dynamic between all of them is just so loving and sweet. Knowing full well that when the boys were kids, I can only imagine that it was harder. But seeing everybody as adults, and especially since all of their boys now have partners to share the holidays with, it’s adorable to see how their parents act around them. 
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
After a bit, everybody slowly started losing steam, so we took the chance to get out while we could. We both knew it would take a minute for us to be able to leave since we had to say ‘goodnight’ to everyone, even though we will see the bulk of them this week anyway.  The drive to my apartment felt like nothing, maybe because I was selfishly excited to just spend time with him alone.
 Staring at him while he drives is a gift on its own. His side profile could be hung in a museum. Listening to his soft little voice after hours spent surrounded by his family, it’s honestly comical how differently he has to speak when Sam and Josh are in the room. It’s not like we don’t see each other enough, but knowing we have to share our time with family, so of course, I’m going to eat up any second I have him to myself. Just getting to enjoy the feeling of his hand on my leg as he drives. But nothing beats the view of his hand gripping the steering wheel. Mmm. 
I’m not always proud of the fact that his hands were one of the first things I fully focused on when I met him, but they’re wildly nice. They’re also fairly large, which is baffling because he’s not a big man by any means. Even just getting a small glimpse of his wrist gets me going, his sleeve sliding down slightly. I don’t know what it is about him that makes this happen to me, but I’m not going to complain.
His other hand flexed on my thigh, watching the way his fingers pressed into my leg for a second, giving it a little squeeze; how he puts rings on when we have plans that aren’t just sitting in the bar because he’s definitely figured out that I’m obsessed with it. But honestly, it’s hard not to be obsessed. He can’t exist without casually touching me, which I still get butterflies from even after a year. The moment he sits in the driver’s seat, his hand searches for mine or my leg. If we’re out somewhere, he’s holding my hand, touching my back, pulling me closer to him so people can sneak by us, but leaving his hands wherever they’ve landed. 
“So, about this gift you forgot?” he softly asks, his thumb grazing over the back of my hand as he does. My head whips over to him– didn’t realize how zoned out I actually was.
I just hum back, “Mhmm?”
“Did you really forget or..” kept his voice low, but the little smirk on his lips sold him out. Oh, that little shit. He probably has spent the last couple of hours trying to decide what it is and, more than likely, is on the right track with it. 
Looking at the time and seeing that we’re almost to my apartment, I make the executive decision to rile him up a little more. 
I let out quietly, “It’s something I wouldn’t want your mom to see.” Reaching over and tuck some of his hair behind his ear so I have a clearer view of his sweet face. Even in the dark, I can see the red creep into his cheeks as it clicks in his brain. 
“I love you,” he giggles out, pulling my hand up to kiss the back of it a few times.  
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Once we’ve made it inside, dropping our bags that Jake insisted he could carry all of. I watch him plop himself down onto my couch, curling up with one of the throw pillows as he watches me put some of my things away. 
“Hey you,” he says, barely loud enough to get my attention. “You can clean tomorrow.” 
Pouting at him, I whisper back, “I only have like two more things.” 
“Well, hurry up,” he giggles, with a big cheesy grin on his face.  “I need to know what this gift is before I lose my mind.” I can feel the excitement radiating from him. 
“Ohhhh,” I teased him. “Just stay there for me– I’ll go get it.” Shooting him a little wink as I scurried off into my room.  
Pulling the lingerie from my drawer— there’s not much to it. Slipping on the bottoms before working on the top. I spent too much time scrolling, trying to find a cute Christmas set to surprise him, and with that, I ended up here. The bra basically just being a ribbon that you tie over your tits, dreading to admit that it is actually kind of cute once it’s on. I step in front of the mirror to make sure the bow is even. Oh, he’s going to lose his mind, regardless. 
Fluffing my hair up a little and reapplying some lipstick, I do one more little spin in front of the mirror before ripping the metaphorical band-aid off. 
“Baby,” I say loudly as I open my door. “Are you ready?” 
“I don’t know, am I?” 
I can’t help but giggle at his little voice. Telling him quietly, “Probably not.” Rounding the corner to my living room where he is. 
“Oh my–” falls out of him. His hand covering his mouth as he mumbles,  “Holy shit, Char.” 
“Worth the wait?” I ask quietly, feeling the blood rush into my face. Something about standing in front of him in this as he just stares at me makes my body feel warm. 
“I– um,” he hesitates as he stands up from the couch, taking a few steps over to me. His hands grab mine, and holding my arms out as his eyes take down my body. “You’re always gorgeous, but this is something.” 
“Oh, let me show you–” I spit out, starting to slowly spin around, still holding one of his hands.  
“Honey, fuck me,” he whispers. Just listening to him fall apart is already fun. “My god.” To be fair— the bottoms do not really cover much… which was probably a little mean of me. 
“Well, I just thought,” I start, stepping closer to him. “Since you work so hard—“ I adjust the collar on his flannel, trying to avoid eye contact with him because I know he’s already struggling. 
He raises his eyebrows but just hums back, “Mhmm.” 
My hands run down his chest as I keep going,  “And you do so much for me—“ I press myself into him, batting my lashes at him a few times. 
“Anything for you,” his eyes soften, but the little smile on his lips is devious. 
“And I love you so so much,” I tell him, running my finger down the slope of his nose and then holding the side of his face. Feeling his hands slide around my waist as I tell him, “You deserved something extra special for Christmas.” 
“Is that right?” He asks, his voice a bit lower. 
“Mhmm,” I hum back before whispering, “Whatever you want.” 
He leans in, kissing me gently before asking,  “You sure about that?” 
I just nod, wrapping my arms around his neck and walking him toward the couch. He sits down, pulling me into his lap. Instantly, his hands are sliding up my thighs.  
I move to straddle him, sitting up on my knees for a second, and I watch the gears in his head start turning. It takes less than a second before the cool air hits my skin. 
“Oops,” he lets out quietly, giggling to himself as the bow comes undone. His hands wrap around my rib cage, pulling me closer, leaving little kisses against my sternum. 
His hands move to grab my ass; his smirk into me is so cute, but it makes me nervous. Watching him not know what to do as he slides his hands up my body, giving my tits a little squeeze. 
I whisper, not to distract him too much, “I love when you’re like this.” 
“Yeah?” His eyes glance up at me as I’m still hovering over him a bit. 
“Mhm,” I hum. Deciding to lean into it a little, I tell him, “You’re always so gentle; it’s fun when you let loose a little.” 
His stare changed slightly, but a little smile crept onto his face.
“In that case,” he lets out, wrapping an arm around me, picking me up as he stands but quickly plopping me back down onto the couch and crawling over me, sliding his leg in between mine, pressing it against me when he leaned down to kiss me. Fighting every urge as the pressure alone already feels good. 
Leaving wet kisses against my neck, working his way down until I watch his face light up as he’s brushing his thumbs over my nipples. A small whimper sneaks out of me, which makes him look up. 
“Does that feel good?” he asks; the tone of his voice makes me shiver. He carefully rolls them between his thumb and index fingers, his jaw going a little slack while he stares at me. My legs twitch around his at the feeling. “Oh, it’s that good, huh?” 
All I can do is nod. My hands reach to grab his shirt, but he’s quick to grab my wrists, pinning them above me with one of his hands. My breathing is heavy as he hovers over me; he just stares at me for a minute. 
“You said whatever you want,” he whispers, leaning in close to my face. 
All I can manage is a small “mhm.” 
He brushes his lips over mine– his smile making my heart race. He lowers his voice when he tells me, “Then be a good girl and let me play with you.”
My hips defy me, grinding against his thigh as a quiet moan slips out. He’s so sexy, oh my god. 
“Oohh,” he coos, taunting me. “You do like when I call you that.” 
I just bite my lip gently as I look back at him. I don’t know what’s come over him but I’m not about to fight it. 
“Thought you got away with it earlier,” he says smugly. “I knew you crossed your legs because I made your pretty little cunt ache.”
My jaw drops at how he’s speaking, letting out a quiet “Jacob.” 
His sweet little laugh as he leans in to kiss me, feeling the smile against me, taking every chance to kiss his cupid's bow until he mumbles against me, “What, honey?” 
“You’re just,” I start, but the way he’s smiling at me makes my brain stall. “Um, you’re so—“ 
His little raspy voice chimed in, “Tell me.” 
I stare at him in awe; Jacob’s never like this, so forward. He giggles quietly at my lack of response, his free hand holding the side of my face, letting his thumb run over my cheek gently. 
“Mmm, that’s okay,” he whispers, his hand sliding down my neck until I feel him lightly trace circles around one of my nipples. He dips down, wrapping his lips around it, following that same circular movement with his tongue. A small groan comes from me at the feeling when he moves to the other side, teasing me the same way but quietly letting out a small ‘mmm.’  His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down the middle of my chest. 
“Keep these here, alright?” he whispers, squeezing my wrists a few times. I nod at him, biting the inside of my lip. Watching as he sat up, grabbing both of my legs and lifting them– blocking any view I had of whatever he was going to do. Until I feel his tongue flat against my clit, sending a shiver through my body. 
His mouth is warm against me, knowing all the right places to be, god he’s too good at this. The moans practically fall out of me when he slips one of his fingers inside. Years of working with his hands really are just a godsend for me– he can ruin my life with minimal effort. 
Pushing my legs closer to my chest, I feel his mouth moving lower. Um.. But he picks up the pace with his hand, and my mind goes blank again. 
“Mmm, baby,” I let out quietly. Feeling the little smirk on his face as he kisses the inside of my thigh. 
Gently biting at it before he tells me, “I have an idea.” 
Pulling me up to him, planting a kiss on me, and whispering, “Turn around for me.”  
I’ve never moved quicker– turning around and leaning down onto my elbows. The feeling of him gently sliding his hands over my legs gives me butterflies. His breath against my skin alone made me feel a bit desperate, knowing that I was littered with goosebumps. 
His lips made contact with my ass, leaving a few kisses on me before he mumbled, “God, I love you.”  
The gasp I let out when his fingers make contact with my clit, almost maddening how he knows just how to move to make everything feel better. Sliding them to feel how wet he’s made me, which he doesn’t have to try for that to happen. Just knowing he’s behind me is enough. 
Moans keep sneaking out of me, which only keeps him motivated. Feeling his free hand grabbing at my ass every so often, always following it with a small kiss until he just spreads me open.. holding it there for a moment. The cool air hit places I hadn’t anticipated, which felt oddly vulnerable. 
“Whatever I want, right?” he asks. 
I glance back over my shoulder slightly, “Mhm.” 
“You’re sure?” 
I give him a slight nod; what is he doing? 
Without hesitation, he flicks his tongue against my clit, making sweet little circles around it. Licking a wide stripe up, finding it harder to resist grinding against him. He lingers there for a second; I swear I can feel that he’s nervous. 
My jaw falls open as his tongue makes contact, not having felt anything like that before. He laps at me like he’s starving and slips one of his fingers back into me, pressing down as he does. Holy shit. 
“Baby– oh my god,” slips out louder than I wish it did. My hands are grabbing desperately at the couch cushion, not knowing what else to do. Truthfully, I’d never been comfortable enough with a man to let him near my ass like this, but Jacob is different. 
Pulled from my thoughts when his hand rapidly started rubbing my clit; the tension from my orgasm building about to burst. His tongue presses harder into me when it hits. A light layer of sweat covers me as my hands death-grip the couch. 
He whispers, “Stay right here for me, honey.” Luckily for him, I don’t think I could move if I wanted to. 
He’s only gone for maybe a minute before he’s sat in front of me, tucking some hair away from my face. He leans in, kissing my cheek a few times, mumbling, “I cleaned up, don’t worry.” I giggle into him, soaking up the feeling of his lips on mine. 
He slides the flannel off and then pulls his shirt over his head with one hand— no matter how many times I’ve seen him do that, it’s still hot. 
“Sit up for me,” he tells me. I turned to face him, still sitting on my knees. My hands flew to unbutton his jeans for him. Dragging them down his legs until his hand is holding my jaw, laughing into a kiss as he finishes pulling them off. “Mmm, open for me, yeah?” 
He stands fully; I can’t take my eyes off him. Watching him as he stroked himself a couple of times, and my mouth fell open like he asked. He slides himself in, and my lips wrap around him instantly. His hands hold the sides of my head as he starts gently thrusting himself into my mouth. 
I keep my eyes on his face— the way his eyes are closed and that delicious little pout of his.  Occasionally, his mouth falls open slightly, especially when he’s hitting the back of my throat gently. Listening to the little moans come from him, he sounds so sweet.
He pulls back completely, leaning down to kiss me— this man I swear. Grabbing me, he just picks me up, turning me to face the back of the couch. Instinctually propping my arms up on the back of the couch, I push my ass into him a little. 
Taking no time, he slides himself into me, slowly pushing his cock all the way in. Maybe he was onto something with the “cunt aching” thing because, good god, I needed that. 
He gently fucks me, his hips moving at a crawling pace. I let out a few small ‘mmm’s knowing that’s what gets him going; his hands squeezing my hips every time. 
“Mmm, my beautiful girl,” he lets out. My heart pounds at his voice. “Taking my cock so well.” 
“Jake,” I moan, unable to hold it in. Where has he been hiding all this? 
He leans over me, kissing my shoulder blade lightly. His hips stop moving for a second— just long enough for him to whisper, “If you want me to stop, just tell me. Okay?” And there’s my sweet Jacob again. 
Turning my face, so I can just barely see him. I open my mouth to respond to him, but the only thing that comes out is, “Oh.” His thumb lightly grazes my other hole, sending a chill through my body, and I can feel my face heat up. Why does that feel kinda.. 
“Is that okay?” He asks quietly. 
Shyly I mumble back, “um.. yes.” 
His hips start to move again as he gently adds pressure with his thumb— the moan coming out of me sounds feral. Holy shit. 
Every noise that escapes me makes him snap his hips harder into me. He grabs one of my hands, pulling it back towards him and resting it on his wrist before his thumb starts pushing a bit harder. 
The feeling of it starting to slip in, I can’t fight the gasp I let out. He keeps slowly pushing it further, and I have to admit that it feels good, littering the air with my moans, his hips slamming into me, and he finally slips his thumb into me. My hand grabs his wrist quickly at the feeling. 
“Hun—“ his voice sounds serious. 
My head falls back, the sweat starts forming again, and I tell him, “Baby, I’m close—“
He wraps his arm around me, pulling me up against him but gently moving his hand away. His face tucked into my neck, whispering, “Let me have it.” 
“Come with me,” I moan. 
He snakes his hand down, barely touching my clit, and I can already feel myself about to break. 
“Tell me where,” he says, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. My brain feels fuzzy as I try to focus on his voice, but the rest of him is driving me crazy. 
“Baby— fuck,” I spit out. “Come in me.” My body leans forward a little, my legs starting to shake as my orgasm hits. “Fuck, Jacob. Come, baby.” 
His hips are getting sloppy, and I can feel him release. His sweet moans littered the air, a slew of ‘fuck’s as he came down from it– leaving kisses on my shoulder when I heard him giggling. 
He backs up from me, but I feel something soft immediately covering me. What is he-? Glancing down, he’s holding his shirt against me so I can sit and not mess up my couch. Ew, I love him. 
“What are you on about, giggles?” 
He just smiles at me, shaking his head. 
“Jacob, you’re gonna end up telling me. Spit it out,” I say, laughing with him. 
“Hun, it’s just—“ he starts, cutting himself off with a laugh. I’d watch him smile like this forever, even if I never got the rest of his thought. “How am I supposed to look your parents in the eye tomorrow?” Laughing with him this time, he has a point. 
“It won’t be that bad..” I try to make him feel better. 
He wipes his hand over his mouth, looks at me, and fights his smile when he says, “Honey, please. I just ate your ass and came inside you— at what point is it not that bad?” 
“JACOB,” I bark out, my face heating up as I laugh. 
He walks back over, kissing the top of my head before mumbling, “Come on, you– let’s get you cleaned up.” 
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
I come out into the living room after showering, and he’s already sitting on the couch. Just seeing him comfortable and not actively checking on the bar is nice. 
Naturally, I’m crawling into his lap; nothing is better than being close to him. He would just pull me into him anyway. 
“I have something for you,” he whispers. 
“Oh?” 
“Mhmm. Here,” he says, handing me a small present. 
Quickly peeling back the wrapping paper, a small ornament is sitting in my hands. A little gold frame that looks vintage, with a cute picture of us from a date night a few weeks ago. 
We found a little Christmas market that was going on in Portland and of course, they had so many cute background options. This specific photo was one of the last ones we took because we were both cold and getting delirious, which you can tell by the way he squished my face a little in his hand as he kissed me. It’s my favorite one; he looks so happy even if I forced him into a million pictures that night. 
Flipping it over, I noticed that he put the year in the bottom corner but wrote, ‘one more?’ in the middle because I definitely asked him every photo if we could just take ‘one more.’
“Jacob,” I whisper, my throat a little tight at how sweet he is. “I love it— I love you.” 
He kisses the side of my head gently, “I’m glad— I love you so much.” 
I stand up from him, walking right over to the skinny tree I have decorated and rearranged a few things to be able to hang this one up. 
Standing back and looking at it, my eyes tear up a little. I take a deep breath as I stare at it; I don’t know what I did to deserve this man. Feeling his arms slide around me and his face tuck into my neck, pressing a little kiss into the side of it. 
“Merry Christmas, honey,” he whispers, letting his lips rest on my cheek, and I can feel the smile on his face. 
I lean back into him, my heart fluttering because I absolutely just fell in love with him all over again. I turned to look at him, his eyes sparkling from the lights on the tree. Nothing will ever compare to this feeling. If he only knew that he’s the greatest gift I’ll ever get.  I lean in, pressing a kiss against his lips and whispering, “You too, baby.” 
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist
Sam & Willa : Sparrow Of The Dawn
Josh & Quinn : Amongst The Stars
Danny & Melody : Come Back For Me
Caravel Tavern 😉
Taglist:
@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf
@lizzys-sunflower @mackalah @klarxtr @edgingthedarkness @writingcold
@takenbythemadness @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf
@josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk
@broken0mens @whereiskeara @gvf-luna @katuschka @threadofstars @i-love-gvf
@jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane @gretavanfan @scoreofinfantryvines
@demonrat444 @hollyco @ourlovesdesire
@musicspeaks @wrldabomination @chloeshell1219
@becinabubblegvf @sanguinebats @lallisonl
@nicoleghost18 @lightmy-love @myownparadise96 @cheersdannyx2
@musicislove3389 @allof--mylove @hailthegodsong @fleetingjake
@Mohollandtx @hearts-hunger
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sirjaketkiszka · 6 months ago
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Silver Springs Masterpost
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Early20s!Jake Kiszka x Fem!Reader
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
I know I could have loved you but you would not let me…
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Being best friends with Josh, you figured you’d get along well with his twin… You were wrong. Jake Kiszka is arrogant, cocky, and all things irritating.
With the semester being over, you spend your summer with the band before they leave town to chase their dreams. If only you knew what that would entail;
Jealousy, secrecy, and heartbreak…
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Word count: 22,502
Warnings: 18+!!, jealousy, lying, cursing, arguing, eventual smut, underage drinking, and mediocre writing.
(each chapter will have its own list of warnings as well.)
Disclaimer: in no way does this storyline follow real life events pertaining to personal lives, tour schedules, release dates, etc.
Playlist inspired by Silver Springs.
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Chapter List:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five (coming soon…)
•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
Tags:
125 notes · View notes
asacredthebread · 3 months ago
Text
Tension & Temptation
•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•
Josh x F!Reader - 18+
𝚂𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚢.
Warnings/Themes : Vibrators, Bottom Josh, Begging
an; HEHEHHEHEHEHE
wc; 6.2k
taglist: @musicislove3389 @peaceloveunitygvf @lilbitx @jazzyfigz @sarahbethgvf @fleetingjake @cheersdannyx2
You rummaged through the room, your fingers grazing the familiar piles of clothes strewn haphazardly across the floor like fallen leaves in an autumn park. The day had plunged into an unexpected chill, and the thin sweater you wore clung to you uselessly, allowing the cold air to seep in with every gust. You could almost hear the whispering echoes of winter curling around the window panes, urging you to find something warmer. An image of one of Josh’s hoodies danced in your mind—a soft, oversized garment that would cocoon you in warmth and familiarity. Just the thought of it gave you a glimmer of comfort, and you started your search with renewed determination.
The room was a mix of organized chaos and cozy clutter. A stack of books about art and philosophy leaned precariously against a lamp, a testament to Josh’s eclectic taste. Piles of laundry sat waiting for attention, a blend of colors and textures that made it difficult to remember what was clean and what was not. You smiled to yourself as you navigated the mess, knowing that it was a reflection of both of you—carefree yet somehow content in the unkemptness of your shared life.
You approached his nightstand, a small wooden piece that had seen better days but somehow felt like a steadfast companion through late-night talks and lazy mornings. With a slight tug, you pulled open the top drawer, half-expecting to find a hoodie nestled among the odds and ends. But instead, your fingers brushed against something unexpected—a sleek vibrator, glimmering softly under the dim glow of the bedside lamp. It caught you off guard, forcing you to freeze momentarily as your heart quickened, your breath catching in your throat.
The realization that this was something Josh must have purchased for himself stirred a multitude of emotions within you. At first, surprise washed over you, followed quickly by a deep sense of intrigue. The implications of his choice spiraled through your mind, leading you to images of him exploring his own desires in the solitude of your home, perhaps even thinking of you. A curious mix of embarrassment and excitement fluttered in your chest as you held the vibrator in your palm, contemplating the intimacy of the moment.
You allowed your fingers to trace the contours of the object, feeling the smooth surface against your skin. It was undeniably personal, a tangible piece of his world that revealed something deeper—an aspect of Josh that was both thrilling and vulnerable. What had possessed him to buy it? Was he merely curious, or was there a part of him that hoped for something more? Questions tumbled through your mind, twisting and turning like autumn leaves in a brisk breeze.
The frigid air swirled around you, and suddenly you remembered why you had begun your search in the first place. The cold pressed against you more insistently now, a sharp reminder that you needed to find that hoodie soon. With one last thoughtful glance at the vibrator, you made a decision—your curiosity could wait. You set it down gently on the nightstand, as if it were a secret you didn’t quite know how to share just yet.
You turned your focus back to the task at hand, digging deeper into the drawer. After sifting through some old receipts and a few loose batteries, your fingers finally brushed against the familiar fabric of one of Josh’s hoodies. A grin spread across your face as you pulled it out with triumph. The fabric, soft and inviting, smelled like him—like home. You shrugged it on, feeling the warmth begin to envelop you, soothing the chill that had been creeping into your bones.
With the hoodie securely wrapped around you, you made your way to the couch, the soft fabric trailing slightly as you moved. You sank deep into the cushions, which welcomed you like an old friend. You settled in, a feeling of comfort washing over you as you nestled into the corner of the couch, pulling the hoodie tighter around you. The world outside seemed distant, the cacophony of the cold muted by the blanket of warmth you had found.
Next to you, the vibrator sat as a curious companion—a secret between you and Josh. You glanced at it, wondering what he had intended when he brought it into your lives. Perhaps he’d meant it for pleasure, for exploration, a tool of intimacy meant to enhance something beautiful. It ignited your imagination, drawing up visions of laughter and whispered conversations in the dim light of your shared space. As your heart played with the possibilities, you leaned back, allowing yourself to drift into thoughts of him and the home you'd built together.
All that was left now was to wait, and perhaps to unpack the thoughts swirling within you when Josh stepped through the door, back from wherever he had wandered in the early evening. The anticipation hung in the air like a sweet fragrance, mixed with the warmth of the hoodie and the unusual promise of the hidden toy resting close by. You nestled into the cushions, wrapped in the cozy embrace of familiarity, eager for the conversation that would unfold when he arrived.
The sound of the front door creaking open broke the serene stillness of the evening, and your heart gave an anticipatory leap. You shifted slightly on the couch, adjusting your position and brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The familiar cadence of footsteps made its way through the small apartment, the unmistakable sound of Josh returning home. Your stomach fluttered with a mingling of excitement and nerves; it had been a long day, and seeing him felt like the perfect remedy to any lingering chill in the air.
“Hey there,” Josh called out, his voice full of warmth and familiarity. The moment you caught sight of him stepping into the living room, your heart swelled. There he was, with his unruly brown mullet framed by the soft glow of the lamp. His curls were tousled, hinting at the hustle and bustle of the day, and his brown eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. You couldn’t help but smile—a spark of joy flickered within you, fueled by seeing him after a long afternoon of waiting.
He swept into the room, and without missing a beat, he moved to your side, slipping onto the couch and bringing with him an air of comfort. As soon as he settled beside you, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on your cheek, a feather-light touch that sent a warmth radiating through you. It was a gesture so simple yet laden with affection, reminding you of all the little ways he made you feel cherished.
“How was your day?” he asked, his voice low and inviting, genuinely interested. He studied your face, and his gaze traveled to the hoodie draping around you with a playful smile painting his lips. “Is that one of my hoodies? You know I’ll need it back, right?”
You chuckled softly, a warm blush creeping across your cheeks at the thought of being wrapped in something so intimately his. “It got cold,” you admitted, sinking deeper into the fabric. “So I decided to rummage through the wardrobe to find something warm. And, well… I found a special little toy of yours.”
At the mention of the vibrator, you felt the atmosphere shift subtly. Josh’s expression morphed into one of perplexity, his brows furrowing slightly as he processed your words. He shifted in his seat, stammering just a bit, “Oh, uh—well, you see, I didn’t think you would find that—”
You shook your head, cutting him off gently but with an amused glint in your eye. “It’s okay,” you said, your tone laced with reassurance. “I just didn’t expect to find it there.”
The nervousness etched on his face was almost endearing, the way his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of brown. He glanced away, pretending to study the wall as he fumbled for the right words. “I was just curious, you know? Thought it might be fun—”
Before he could spiral into an explanation that might only make him feel more anxious, you decided to shift the mood slightly, hoping to lighten the air thickening with uncertainty. “Actually,” you said, a playful tone creeping into your voice, “I thought it might be fun to… try it?”
His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. The stammering had reached a new level. “W-Wait, what? You mean, like, right now?” His brows shot up, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction, a sound that cut through the awkwardness like a warm breeze.
Your words hung in the air, a spark igniting between you both. You could see the wheels turning in his head as the implications sunk in. He opened his mouth to respond, but then closed it again, biting his lip as a mixture of confusion and curiosity played across his features. You watched him closely, the way his posture shifted as he leaned against the couch, interest piquing despite the initial shock.
“Yes, right now,” you urged, a hint of teasing lacing your tone. “You don’t have to be shy about it. We share everything else, right?” You could feel your heart racing, exhilaration bubbling up within you as the conversation took a daring turn.
The room seemed to encapsulate the tension, a blend of humor and vulnerability. Josh shuffled nervously beside you, the contradictions in his expression—surprise, anxiety, and a dawning excitement—making it impossible to look away. It was a rare look, a glimpse into his openness, igniting a spark of anticipation and adventure.
“Uh, okay, but…” He hesitated, glancing at the vibrator, then back to you, caught between disbelief and intrigue. “I mean, I didn’t think you’d ever want to—”
You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Josh, it’s us. I’m just saying it might be fun.” You watched as his expression changed—somewhere between insecurity and intrigue—as he processed your words, turning the moment electric.
The warmth of the hoodie snug around you felt like a shield against the chill, but now, the heat rising between you two seemed to quell the cold just as well. You could feel the tension hang in the air, the thrill of exploring uncharted territory together. You were already caught up in the moment, your heart racing at the thought of stepping into this new dynamic.
There was an infinite possibility lying before you both, the playful challenge of bridging that gap between intimacy and exploration. And as you sat there next to him, the anticipation became palpable, weaving its way into the very fabric of the evening, grounding you in the knowledge that together, you could navigate this curious little adventure.
A nervous energy radiated from Josh, palpable and electric, as he processed your proposition. His eyes darted to the vibrator and back to you, revealing a blend of excitement and vulnerability that made your heart race. The hesitant smile that played at the corners of his mouth only deepened the intrigue; he was a man so often confident yet now, in this moment, the tables had turned. You could feel an urge to explore this side of him, to lead him into this new realm where boundaries could be redefined.
“Wait, are you serious?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with hesitation that only added to the tension. The way he buckled slightly under your gaze, lips parting as if he were about to say more, was undeniably captivating. Despite the uncertainty flickering in his brown eyes, there was something else lurking beneath the surface—a spark of thrill and curiosity just waiting to be unleashed.
You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, the sound light and playful, a testament to the atmosphere crackling around you. “Oh, I’m very serious,” you teased, your voice low and sultry, a hint of mischief gleaming in your expression.
Before he could comprehend your intentions fully, you leaned forward, using your body to gently but assertively push him back against the plush cushions of the couch. The suddenness caught him off guard, and his wide eyes betrayed a mix of surprise and exhilaration. You were met with a moment of resistance, but it quickly melted away as he surrendered to the moment, enveloped by the softness of the couch.
There was a delicious thrill surging through you as you hovered above him, your body poised over his, commanding yet inviting. You could feel the slight tremor in his muscles, an almost submissive quality to his demeanor as he glanced up at you, an eager anticipation flickering in his gaze. His brown curls framed his face, accentuating the mixture of uncertainty and willingness that made your heart flutter.
With deliberate slowness, you began to explore him, your fingers trailing down his thigh, a featherlight touch over the fabric of his pants. You traced a path upward, savoring the way his muscles tensed beneath your fingertips. Every subtle shift of his body sent a thrill of satisfaction coursing through you. You watched, captivated, as he bit down on his lip, seemingly torn between his nervousness and the undeniable desire blooming in the air around you.
As your hand continued its exploration, you leaned closer, planting soft kisses along his neck, trailing your lips against the warmth of his skin. The sensation sent shivers down his spine, and you could feel the slight hitch in his breath each time your mouth met his neck, a blend of sweetness and vulnerability unfolding beneath your touch. “You like this?” you murmured softly against his skin, your breath warm and tantalizing.
“Yeah, I—uh, I think so,” he stammered, his voice thick and layered with the heady mix of excitement and uncertainty. The way he wriggled slightly beneath you, seeking both reassurance and the pleasure of your lingering kisses, was a sight you couldn’t resist. You smiled to yourself, feeling empowered by the effect you had on him, a wave of confidence bolstering your own desires.
Gently, you pulled back for just a moment, allowing yourself to drink in the sight of him: cheeks flushed, eyes glimmering with an intensity that left no doubt of the allure he found in your assertiveness. The tension in the room was tangible, thick with the promise of what was to come. “Just relax,” you whispered, leaning in to press another tender kiss just below his ear, causing him to shiver in response.
You could feel him gradually surrendering, his nervous energy shifting to something far more tantalizing. He leaned towards you, seeking your warmth, and with each kiss, you instinctively picked up the cadence of his breathing—uneven but growing steadier as you continued your explorations. You reveled in the power of guiding this moment, cherishing the way he leaned into your touch, encouraging you with every soft gasp and sigh.
With every kiss along his neck and every slow caress of your hand, you built a world of intimacy that felt both intoxicating and exhilarating. The couch enveloped you both in a sanctuary, a space where the outside world faded away, and only the two of you remained. It felt liberating to be able to explore this dynamic and allow him to embrace this more submissive role entirely, surrendering himself to the unfolding possibilities.
As you stroked him slowly over his pants, the tension that bubbled beneath the surface began to simmer into something deeper. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his body responded instinctively to your touch. The trust building between you was palpable, a silent promise manifesting in the sweet intimacy of the moment.
You continued kissing him softly, allowing your lips to explore every inch of his neck, enjoying how his breathing deepened with each gentle caress. In this shared space, you felt both powerful and tender, every kiss and touch laced with a shared connection that transcended mere intimacy. You knew that this was just the beginning of something beautifully uncharted, a dance of discovery waiting to unfold.
The world around you faded further into the background as you surrendered to the heat of the moment, both lost in the embrace of vulnerability and the thrill that surged between you. Time seemed to stretch infinitely, every second laden with promise, and the anticipation crackled like electricity, igniting a desire for more as you continued to explore the uncharted territory together.
You could feel the moment the switch flipped in Josh’s mind. The tentative nervousness gave way to something deeper as he surrendered fully to the moment, the weight of your presence settling over him like a warm blanket. His breath hitched, turning uncertainty into eager anticipation that crackled in the air surrounding you both. The inherent trust he had in you seemed to stitch together an unbreakable bond, allowing him to embrace this newfound submission, diving headfirst into the depths of intimacy.
You couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the transformation, a sound sweetened by the intimacy of the moment. Leaning closer, you reached up, trailing your fingers along his neck before tangling them gently in his curly hair, tugging just enough to elicit a soft gasp from his lips. The sound was intoxicating, a primal reaction that made your heart race even faster. It felt like you had found a hidden button, one that turned him from hesitant and unsure to completely pliant beneath your touch.
“Look at you,” you teased lightly, your voice playful as you held him in your grip, guiding his gaze as he looked up at you with those wide brown eyes filled with a mix of longing and submission. “You’re doing so well...”
A low, involuntary moan escaped his lips as you tugged on his hair just slightly harder, and you reveled in the power of your actions. There was something mesmerizing about the way he surrendered entirely, how his body responded with a hunger that matched your own. Each flicker of pleasure on his face added fuel to the fire of your intentions, igniting an insatiable desire to explore every inch of him.
With a confident smile, you let your hand drift lower, moving toward the waistband of his pants. You could feel the heat radiating off him as your fingers danced along the fabric, teasingly lingering just long enough to build the tension. Time seemed to stretch as you took your sweet time, savoring the way his breath quickened in anticipation, an unspoken request hanging in the air.
Finally, your fingers slipped inside, the soft fabric yielding beneath your touch. You were met with warmth and firmness, and pleasure rippled through you both at that instant. His breath hitched again, deeper this time as you cautiously wrapped your hand around him, the slightest pressure eliciting another barely contained moan. You moved slowly, deliberately, feeling him arch slightly into your touch, leaning against you as if to urge you on.
He bit his lip, and you noticed the way his brow furrowed in concentration and desire. Just knowing the effect you had on him pushed you further, igniting your own excitement as you squeezed him gently, exploring the contours of him over the fabric. “You like that?” you murmured, your voice low and sultry, coaxing him to revel in the pleasure you offered him.
“Please,” he begged softly, and there was an almost pleading quality to his tone that sent a thrill racing through you. “Don’t tease me so much. I... I can’t take it.”
His vulnerability, his willingness to submit completely, was intoxicating. There was a fire in his eyes, a mixture of desperation and arousal that only deepened with each teasing stroke. You could feel your own breaths becoming more labored as you continued to guide the moment, understanding the delicate balance of power you both occupied.
“Is this too much?” you teased, pretending to pull back slightly. He shook his head fervently, eyes wide with longing.
“No, don’t stop,” he whispered, and there was an earnestness in his voice that tugged at something deep within you. You felt as though you were sculpting him, molding his desires with every careful movement, every caress.
Your hand began to move in a rhythm, slow yet deliberate, every stroke coaxing him ever closer to the precipice. And with each movement, you felt him melt further beneath you, fully embracing the role of obedient partner. The rush of power felt nearly overwhelming, a heady mix of control and adoration as you felt him surrender completely to your touch.
“Just enjoy it,” you whispered, leaning in closer until your lips brushed against his ear. Each breath you took enveloped him, wrapping around both of you in a cocoon of intimacy, a bubble where outside distractions ceased to exist. You could see him quivering beneath the pleasure you generated, and it was intoxicating.
“Please... just don’t tease,” he begged once more, the quiet desperation in his voice striking a perfect balance with the desire simmering within you. Each plea only intensified your resolve, and with every whispered word, he surrendered yet again, letting the weight of your actions wash over him.
You intensified your movements, feeling the warmth radiating from him, slowly shifting the pace as you gradually escalated the teasing. The tension hung thick in the air, a waiting game that pulled taut with every stroke. Each time you grazed over him, all the little noises and sighs spilled from his lips, creating a symphony of pleasure that filled the room.
You watched closely, reveling in the expressions flickering across his face, in the way vulnerability washed over him like a wave. Time seemed to lose its meaning as you lost yourself in this exploration of power dynamics, where your confidence lifted you both higher, inviting him to dive deeper into the depths of submission.
His quiet pleas encouraged you, drew you in; a sweet melody that acted as your rhythm while you guided him through this intoxicating journey, mapping out the contours of pleasure as you both intertwined in the moment. You were aware that you both were teetering on the edge of something transformative, and as the air crackled with unspent energy, you surrendered to the experience, as he surrendered to you.
You felt the electric atmosphere around you thrum with anticipation as your gaze shifted to the vibrator lying temptingly beside you on the couch. A wicked smile curled at the corners of your lips as you grasped it, knowing it would elevate the tension between you to dizzying heights. You could sense Josh’s awareness shift too, a palpable energy building in the room as his eyes widened with both excitement and apprehension.
“Ready?” you questioned lightly, letting the words hang in the air as you positioned the vibrator in your hand. You wanted to savor this moment, to watch as he processed the idea of what was to come, what you were about to unleash.
With slow, deliberate movements, you leaned closer again, your body once more hovering over him. Your heart raced at the sight of him, his breath quickening as you brought the vibrator closer. The way his body responded instinctively made your pulse quicken as well—the subtle tension in his muscles and the way he squirmed slightly beneath you, anticipation and longing pooling between you like a tangible force.
As you slipped your hand into his pants, your fingers brushed against him lightly before finding the warmth of his skin. You could feel him tense momentarily at the sensation, a low, shaky breath escaping him as you gently guided the vibrator to him, pressing it against the straining fabric. The world outside faded away, and in that singular moment, it was just the two of you, lost in the delicious build of intimacy.
You turned on the vibrator, opting for the low setting, and a ripple of pleasure surged through him as it hummed against him. He gasped, his back arching slightly as the sensation pulsed against him, and you could see the way his eyes fluttered shut, caught in a labyrinth of pleasure and restraint.
“Tell me how it feels,” you murmured, your voice like honey, sweet and thick with arousal. The way his body reacted told you everything you needed to know, but you wanted to hear the words spill from his lips, the unmistakable sincerity in his voice adding to the urgency of the moment.
“It’s—,” he stammered, the word breaking off as he squirmed, the gentle vibrations drawing him deeper into the delightful haze. “It’s good… really good. But... please, I need more.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at his pleading tone; there was something deliciously intoxicating about the way he lay there, completely at your mercy. You relished the power of it all—the way you could tease and tantalize him, drawing out each moment to leave him yearning for more.
You moved the vibrator slowly, experimenting with the angle and pressure, eliciting soft whimpers and breathy gasps each time it brushed against him. The softness of the couch created the perfect backdrop, wrapping you both in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. Each press of the device ignited his desires, your careful rhythm turning into an intricate dance that toyed with his every sensation.
“Just like that…” you coaxed, your voice full of encouragement, urging him to let go of any lingering hesitation. You watched as his breath hitched, the muscles in his abdomen tightening at the ripple of pleasure cascading through him.
“Please, don’t hold back,” he gasped, his own need palpable in the air, a siren call that echoed deep within you. “I need more of that...”
“More, huh?” you teased, tilting your head slightly as you leaned in, your breath warm against his ear. “You’re sure you can handle it?”
He nodded vigorously, his eyes alight with fervor, and the sight was more than enough to urge you onward. You delighted in the way he exposed his vulnerability, the openness in his gaze that confirmed his readiness to submit entirely to this experience.
With a deeper smirk, you turned up the setting just a notch, and you could see the electric jolt that rippled through him immediately. His body arched off the couch, a soft moan tumbling past his lips as he pressed into the sensation, hands gripping the couch as if to anchor himself.
“That's it,” you encouraged, loving the sight of him breaking down, submitting to every sensation you orchestrated. You continued to work the vibrator over him, applying gentle pressure and pressing it deeper against him. He squirmed slightly, his form trembling with a delicious ache as he chased the thrilling sensations coursing through him.
“More, please! Don’t tease me like this,” he begged again, his voice a soft whimper, threaded with desperation that made your heart race.
You relished the genuine yearning in his pleas, acknowledging the fine line between ecstasy and torment you now danced upon together. “If you want more, you’ll have to earn it,” you replied playfully, letting the teasing settle in the spaces between your words. The way he shifted, the eager desire in his eyes as he melted beneath your control, spurred you on further.
The soft hum of the vibrator became a constant heartbeat in the room, a backdrop to the sounds of his soft whimpers and the sweet melody of his surrender. You continued exploring every aspect of pleasure, turning the dial to find the rhythm that ignited him most, gauging his reactions and building a crescendo of need that surged ever closer.
You watched his reactions carefully, observing how each movement, each shift in pressure drew him further into a spiral of desire. It was this delicate balance that brought you both closer to the precipice, and you knew that the moment of surrender was nearing. He craved more, and you could feel the ache for release building inside him with every fleeting second.
“Want me to turn it up a little more?” you teased again, your voice honeyed with delight.
“Please,” he gasped, and this time the longing in his voice was unmistakable.
As you looked down at him, you could see everything—the tantalizing vulnerability, the raw desire in his eyes—as you prepared to guide him deeper into the depths of pleasure, one carefully orchestrated moment at a time. The anticipation hung thick in the air, an unbroken thread of connection woven through shared desires, as you continued to relish in this exquisite game of pleasure, playful teasing, and tantalizing surrender.
The moment hung tantalizingly in the air, thick with anticipation and electric desire. You focused on Josh, every inch of him radiating need as you held the vibrator firmly against him. He was utterly vulnerable beneath your touch, and the sight of him squirming with longing was a beautiful reward for the control you wielded.
“Please,” he breathed again, the single word like a prayer falling from his lips, igniting something primal deep within you. You could feel his entire body arching in desperate longing, the way he shifted beneath you as if searching for more of that intoxicating friction. His gaze was fixed on you, a mix of yearning and submission that sent shivers racing down your spine.
“Alright, my love,” you said softly, relishing the power in your voice. You increased the setting, realizing the moment had come to unleash the torrent of sensations you both craved. As the warmth radiated against him, you could almost feel the way his body reacted. Each pulse of vibration caused a hitch in his breath, an electric current snapping through him that made his muscles contract in response.
“God…” he gasped, a raw, primal sound that echoed in the small space between you, enveloping you both in the delicious tension. His eyes fluttered shut again, and you could see the pleasure ripple across his features, a divine expression that filled you with urgency. You found your own heart racing in tandem, exhilarated by how quickly you could turn his world upside down with just a flick of a switch.
You pressed the vibrator against him a little harder, coaxing out that exquisite urgency in him. The low hum deepened into a constant thrum that resonated through both of you. You watched as Josh began to squirm more prominently under the pressure of the vibrations, his body yielding even further to the sensation. You could tell he was teetering on the edge of bliss, his breath coming in soft, uneven bursts that hung thick in the air.
“Don’t move too much,” you instructed gently yet firmly, the hint of playfulness laced in your tone. “I want you to feel everything.”
He nodded, biting down on his lip as he surrendered to your guidance, each element of control sending delicious shivers up your spine. You relished this moment, the way you could orchestrate the ebb and flow of his pleasure, crafting an experience that felt intensely intimate and significant.
The vibrations pulsed rhythmically, coaxing another moan from his lips, the sound almost a melody that resonated with your every thought. You reveled in every gasp and whimper, each one igniting your own longing even further as his need began to radiate in waves.
“More… please, don’t stop,” he pleaded, his words catching at the edge of desperation. This time, there was less hesitation in his voice, a raw authenticity driving his request. You could feel the way his body responded, the way it yearned for deeper fulfillment, and it only intensified your determination to give him everything he sought.
“I won’t,” you promised him, an alluring smile curving your lips as you held the vibrator lightly yet firmly against him, angling it just right to increase the sensation. You reveled in the subtle shifts as he instinctively leaned into the vibrations, arching his back as he sought more, an almost instinctual reaction to the pleasure swelling within him.
“Just let go,” you coaxed softly, feeling the pulse of the moment strengthen. “Trust me.”
He swallowed hard, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in his eyes, but you saw it mingle with the undeniable yearning that coursed through him. It was the perfect mix of trust and desire, and you had every intention of guiding him through this journey in the way that he craved most.
You felt the vibrations create a beautiful tension, the way they trembled deep within him, sending ripples of pleasure cascading from where you held him. You watched closely, feeling the reward of every gasp and tremor, knowing that with each second you could draw him closer to the edge.
“Please, I can’t take it anymore…” he whimpered, and the intensity in his voice sent an intoxicating thrill through you. You could see the desperate need spilling over, the way his body was begging for release from the tension you had delicately woven around him.
“Just a little longer,” you teased sweetly, your own heart racing at his desperate need. “You’re doing so well.”
With a newfound clarity, you began to edge the setting higher, excitedly driving him to experience deeper and more intense waves of pleasure. The change was instantaneous—you could almost feel the breath leave his lungs as the vibrations coursed over him like a wave crashing against the shore, an overwhelming force that enveloped him.
“Oh my God…” he gasped, his eyes fluttering open as they met yours, betraying a mixture of ardor and disbelief that only further fueled the fire between you. You could feel his body quaking, the way he fought against the urge to thrust into the vibrations, so near—yet so far—away from the release he desperately sought.
“Do you want more?” you asked, the words dripping with seduction, wanting to draw him deeper into this shared space of desire. You could feel the raw honesty in his gaze as he nodded vehemently, the need spilling out of him in quiet whimpers.
“Please, yes! I can’t… I can’t hold back,” he confessed, the truth spilling onto the floor like a cherished secret. With those words, it felt like the tension that had built between you ignited into a blaze.
“Then let go,” you murmured, leaning closer as you pressed the vibrator against him again, this time with a deliberate push that captured every vulnerability he offered. He cried out at the sensation, his body arching again, surrendering to the overwhelming waves of pleasure rolling through him, each moment compounding into a beautiful crescendo leading toward an impending climax.
You adjusted your rhythm, your movements becoming more deliberate, coaxing him higher and higher until the vibrations were overwhelming, trapping him in a blissful state of pure ecstasy. “You can do this,” you urged softly, your voice a soft yet insistent whisper meant to guide him over the edge. “Just feel it.”
His eyes went wide as he nodded, body trembling under the intensity of the pleasure that coursed through every inch of him, muscles fluttering with eagerness. “God, I’m so close…” he managed to gasp out, and those words only motivated you further.
“Just a little longer,” you echoed, teasingly shifting the vibrator’s angle to keep him on the precipice, allowing him to hover in that delicious space filled with sensory whirlwind. You wanted to watch him break, to see the moment when his control crumbled beneath the weight of desire and surrender.
With every moment that passed, you felt the connection between you deepening, a silent agreement that tethered you together through this exquisite exploration of ecstasy. All the while, you continued to guide him, your every movement intentional, carefully calibrated to jolt him closer and closer to the edge he craved.
With your heart racing, you pushed the vibrator just that much harder against him, steady and unyielding, feeling the tension build as he desperately writhed beneath you. The orchestra of sounds that spilled from him only fanned the flames of your own yearning, and you both succumbed to the intoxicating atmosphere surrounding you.
He took a shaky breath, eyes dancing with uncontained need, and you could see that the moment was expertly approaching. You could feel him teetering on the brink as the vibrations became a relentless wave—and that’s when you pressed the vibrator firmly against him, fully surrendering to the moment.
“Now, let go,” you whispered, your voice as soft as silk, the encouragement puncturing the thick air like an arrow hitting its target. The moment stretched beautifully between you both, an eternity wrapped in a sensation that blurred the lines between pleasure and release.
The cries that followed were mesmerizing, a melody of bliss that echoed through the room as he finally surrendered, washing over him like a powerful tide. You watched, breathless, every expression of his uncontrollable pleasure, as he fell over that edge, the world around you fading into blissful nothingness.
“Just let it take you,” you encouraged as he overwhelmed himself completely, lost in the intoxicating waves of pleasure that buried him deep, and you felt yourself drown in it too. The satisfaction of guiding him, of drawing out every shudder and gasp, only deepened the understanding between you, solidifying your connection in that all-consuming moment.
Time became irrelevant as you both let the world dissolve around you, lost in a cocoon of shared pleasure and trust, as the vibrational hum continued to reverberate between you, carrying you both into the depths of an experience that felt as though it could stretch on forever. The intoxicating union between dominance and submission became a glorious exploration that neither of you dared to escape, as you lingered there, wrapped in the lush sensations of the moment, completely sheltered from everything but each other.
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obetrolncocktails · 2 years ago
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Karma Sutra | Sam Kiszka X Reader | Part 4
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Warnings: conversations about virginity, fluff, bestfriend (Paige) angst, Sam singing/ slow-dancing, Sam being disgustingly thoughtful and loving.
Word Count: 4.4K
A/N: I love the feelings that this chapter gives me...the warm fuzzies, for sure, though there is some forshadowing of things to come.
Summary: Sam. Sam. Sammy. The name resonates through your body like homecoming, a name that leaves your heart beating out of rhythm...you hope this lasts forever.
For weeks, you and Sam played the same dance, traveling between your apartments to test each other’s boundaries. He was extremely patient–a quality of his that you never expected, but one that made you feel comfortable and cared for. “When you’re ready, I will be here. I won’t ask for anything more than what you’re comfortable with,” he had said to you a few weeks ago after a particularly intimate evening together. At that moment, it really wasn’t even about sex. He knew that you were still a virgin. You were hesitant to talk about it at first, impressing the stigma that had haunted you your entire adolescence. You’re inexperienced, childish, uncool, undesirable. All because you hadn’t had sex yet. He understood that to you, giving your body to another person was an act of devotion and of love, and that when you are ready, it would matter. It would be special. 
In past years, you had found yourself in several situations where you felt like you had connected with someone, only for them to pressure you into sexual favors. You’d always shut down after that. The stigma encircling virginity had always nauseated you. You were no less of a woman for not having had sex with someone; you weren’t prepared to be that vulnerable with casual flings or even boyfriends that you didn’t love. Over the past month, you were beginning to feel the walls that you had put up beginning to crumble.
“So I was thinking,” Sam said as he drove to dinner, stealing glances over at you. “The winter formal is coming,” He paused, seemingly fraught with nerves. “I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel butterflies take over your body. You couldn’t help but grin at him, your face most likely looking ridiculous. “What?” he said through a chuckle, looking at you. You shook your head, reaching for his hand. 
“You–Samuel Francis Kiskza,” You said, entertained by the question, “Voluntarily attending a college dance? With one girl…one…” You poked up one finger in the air, poking fun at his previous lack of monogamy. He eyed you softly before focusing back on the road, remaining silent. He’s serious. 
“Sam, I was just kidding. I’d love to go with you,” you answered, reaching for his hand. He glanced at you with a soft smile, taking your hand and squeezing it. 
“I have another question for you,” he continued matter of factly, pulling up to a red light. 
“Uh oh,” you responded, beaming at him with a toothy grin. 
“Come on, I’m being serious,” he said, squeezing your hand. 
“Okay, what is it?” you asked, realizing that he wasn’t as playful as you thought he would be. His expression was pulled forward as if deep in thought. 
“Well, we’ve been spending more and more time together, and I just…I have more than just casual feelings for you,” He paused, searching for the next words. “I just, I wanted to know if you wanted to be like…,” he paused again, leaving the car silent as he drove forward in response to the green light. You decided to take a risk. 
“Be your girlfriend?” You asked, a cringe rolling down your body, preparing for the embarrassment. Except, it didn’t come. You heard Sam audibly sigh as if releasing a ton of pressure from his body. 
“Yes.” He grasped your hand tighter and you could see his cheeks reddening as if he were a little kid, innocently asking a pretty girl to be his girlfriend at recess. 
“I’d love that,” you said, wishing you could kiss him without wrecking the vehicle. “I wish you’d have asked me while we were parked so I could kiss you.” 
He chuckled, turning off into the nearest parking lot, which ended up belonging to the local Bank of America branch. He placed the car in park and instead of leaning over the dash, he got out of the vehicle completely, coming over to your side and opening your door for you. 
“Hold please.” He said with a smirk, reaching for his phone. After tapping a few buttons, you could hear a new song begin to play inside the car. You recognized it. It was one of your favorite songs, “Everything Has Its Place” by Young Mister. He handed out his hand for you to take. “Can I have this dance?”
“Sam, what?” You looked outside of the vehicle, at the cars rushing by and at the people driving through the ATM line. “Right here?”
“Yes. Come here.” He asked simply with a nod, this time reaching for your hand and pulling you up and out of the car. This certainly wasn’t a conventional way to woo a woman, but you would remember this forever. You stood in front of him, leaving the car open, listening to the lilt of the music fill the space around you. He pulled you into him naturally, lacing one hand in yours and the other around your waist. You felt his warm body pressed against yours, an undeniable and overwhelming feeling of happiness blooming through your body. 
 He matched the tempo of the music in a simple two-step rhythm. Your belly bounced with the feeling of wanting to cry, wanting to kiss him, wanting to laugh. He made you feel so special, and it was impromptu moments like these that made you genuinely happy to be with him. 
You listened to the familiar lyrics as you danced with him. 
Everything has its place
It is certain to me now
Wild and arranged
We were built for the same purpose somehow
Every word in the world
Could join hands and sing
And still fall short of ever capturing
As sure as a ring goes with a hand
Stars with the moon
Just like the ocean pairs well with the sand
I go with you.
“I’ve been working on my form,” He said finally, prompting you to lift your head to look up at him. 
“Mm, and how’s that working for you,” you asked, your smile so large it was beginning to ache. 
“I haven’t blown it with her yet, I don’t think,” he responded, bending down closer to you. 
“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a great job,” you said, leaning in, waiting for him to close the gap with the warmth of his lips. “You’re perfect.”
***
“I never thought you’d end up with him is all I’m saying,” Paige said, sprawled out at the end of her bed, idly scrolling through her phone. “He’s always been so…slimy. Sexy, I’ll give you that–but slimy. The ultimate fuck boy.” She broke her gaze from her iphone to find your eyes discovering that you were not amused. 
“What?” She said, shrugging and rolling to her side, resting on her elbow. “You’re gonna tell me you didn’t think he was a total fucking douche before you guys got together?” She was annoyingly smacking several sticks of bubblegum and her auburn curls fell into her face, causing her to have to blow at them from out the corner of her mouth. “And let’s be honest. You and him? Not the best match.” 
You rolled your eyes at her keeping the secret of the twinge of hurt writhing deep within your gut when she pointed out the obvious. “He’s notorious, Y/n. Don’t get me wrong, he’s beautiful, maybe even a work of art–but is he the real thing, or just another asshole? Smoke and Mirrors can only work for so long until the jig is up.” 
“Can you stop speaking in metaphors and leave my boyfriend out of this?” She had hit a sensitive spot and you couldn't help but throw up a new boundary, even to your best friend. 
“Boyfriend? Since when did that happen?” She pressed, her eyes widening. “Sam doesn’t do that thing,” she said, shaking her head back and forth. “I’ve never pinned him as the person to settle.” Paige was beginning to seriously piss you off. 
“Settle? You think he’s settling with me?” You asked, suddenly pissed off. 
“No, no, no!” She said, springing forward with her hands up in front of her in a defensive display. “That’s not what I meant. I just think he’s scared of domesticity.”
You lowered your hackles and adjusted in bed. “He’s been my boyfriend since he asked me. And it was very sweet.” You paused before asking sarcastically, “And since when did you know everything about him?” You wanted to keep yours and Sam’s dance to yourself. You usually told Paige everything, but at this point, you felt that there were newfound boundaries for the things that you could reveal to her. She had a problem with Sam and it bothered you that she continued to shit on him. The Sam you knew was very different from the Sam she claimed she did. From there on out, you decided that you would keep the special things in your relationship to yourself. Paige wouldn’t share the same excitement for you as you would ever hope for. You felt that any information given to her in good confidence would be scrutinized as if it were all an act or some kind of joke. 
“I’m sure he recycles those words for everyone.” She said, which was the final straw. “I don’t trust him, and I don’t like him.”
“You know what? Since you know everything, read the obvious,” you said, getting up out of the bed and throwing your middle finger up, storming out of the apartment.
“What? Y/n, I wasn’t trying to–” Slam. You threw the front door closed, listening to it rattle the walls as you huffed down the sidewalk. 
“Y/n, stop! I’m sorry, I was just–” You cut her off as you stomped to your car. 
“You were just shitting on my boyfriend, someone who I like very much. Why do you care so much?” you spat at your best friend, pissing yourself off at the realization. “Are you fucking jealous?” you asked in disbelief, a sardonic chuckle escaping into the parking lot of the complex. 
“What? Y/n are you on crack?” Paige said, walking to the end of the sidewalk with her arms crossed across her chest. “I have a boyfriend!”
“You know what? Nevermind, forget it. I’m just PMSing. I’m sorry,” You ended the argument before it could start, but you continued to walk away. “I’m tired. I’m just gonna go home.”
“You could just stay here,” she tried.
“No, I just don’t feel good, and you know I like being in my own bed,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. You didn’t have the energy to fight with her, so you decided it was easier to lie and escape. You felt a big helping of sorrow, enough for the both of you, drop to the bottom stomach. It left you with anxiety as you drove away from her apartment and it took you far too long to realize that you were holding your breath. Heaving a sigh, you called the first person you could think of. 
“Hey, what are you up to?” You said in a neutral tone, trying your best to conceal the upset. 
“I just got done at the piano store. What’s wrong?” He asked. Dammit. Cover blown. Was it really that easy to tell?
“Nothing, I just–I miss you.” You admitted, pulling up to a red light. Dusk was approaching, only a few streaks of pink remained in the sky. 
“Well, I’m on Gusset Road. Only five minutes away from my dorm. Wanna come over?” He asked. You had only been to his apartment once, and it was when his roommates were nowhere to be seen. 
“Uh, are the boys going to be there?” you asked him. 
“Probably, but who cares. Don’t worry about them, Y/n. They probably have their own share of problems to worry about–venereal disease? Waking up drunk somewhere…maybe even naked.” he said. You could tell he was grinning on the other side of the phone. 
“Okay.” You said. Sam’s roommates were insufferable. You knew them to be jackasses; any and every interaction you’d ever had with them usually began and ended with a comment on your appearance. 
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, baby. Completely up to you.” 
“No Sam, It’s all good. I want to see you. I’ll be there in ten,” you said, deciding to take one for the team. If you were going to be exclusive with him, you shouldn’t feel uncomfortable spending time with him anywhere. You chose to step out of your comfort zone and reroute to meet him at his apartment. 
You got there after him, but luckily he was still parked in his space waiting for you. Of course, he looked effortlessly handsome. You parked in the open space beside him, offering him a smile as you turned your car off and got out. 
“Well, hello lovely,” He said with a sing-songy voice, getting out and closing his car door, pulling you to him. He leaned in and kissed you softly. “How is my sunshine?” He smoothed the hair down on the top of your head before placing a kiss there. 
“I’m alright,” you said, taking his hand, lacing your fingers with his. You knew he didn’t believe you–nothing was really wrong, you just felt weird and insecure in the relationship–like part of you didn’t trust your place with Sam. 
He led you inside, squeezing your hand and swinging your arm as he walked with you. As the front door of the apartment swung open, you saw Christian walking across the room wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He turned to you. “Oh, hey there, beautiful.” He winked at you, sucking his teeth with a grin that left you feeling queasy. You remained quiet as you observed him. “Mother Teresa gone silent? Taken a vow of silence?” 
“I think you should look into taking that vow yourself.” Sam said, tossing his keys on the kitchen island. 
Christian shrugged, grabbing a banana and unpeeling it. “Have fun, you two,” he said, winking as he took almost the entire length of the fruit into his mouth. 
“Looks like you’ve got a lot of experience,” you said, garnering enough courage to pick at him. 
“That was a good one, Y/n,” Christian said, patting you on the back harder than he intended. You couldn’t help but look at him with disgust. “You’ll get some too. Soon, hopefully.” Christian’s eyes met Sam’s with yet another wink. He retreated to his room, slamming the door behind him. 
“Is he always such a prick?” You asked, turning to Sam.
“If you had to ask,” He said, pulling you in by your shoulders, “you already know the answer. He’s a dumbfuck. Don’t listen to him.” He kissed you gently as his thumbs stroked your skin softly. “Trust me enough to do something risky?” He asked, his eyes brightening with mischief.
You narrowed your eyes skeptically. “Should I be worried?” 
“Only if you’re afraid of heights.” He took your hand, grabbed his keys and ushered you out the door without time for you to protest.
“Wait, no!” you yelped as he pulled you down the hall. “Sammy!” 
“Come on! Trust me!” You ran with him down the hall, towards a fire exit. 
“It’s not alarmed,” he said, pushing open the door. You couldn’t help but cringe as you crossed the threshold onto the external fire escape. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said out loud when you realized how high up you were, feeling the breeze fluttering across your cheek. Granted, Sam’s apartment was on the third floor. It wasn’t a high rise apartment–eight stories, but you still couldn’t help but picture your body going splat on the pavement. 
“Don’t worry, Y/n. I promise you that it’ll be worth it. I come up here all the time.” He pulled you to the inside of the steep stairway, so that you were adjacent to the concrete wall and his right side. You felt safer this way, but nowhere near calm. Surprisingly, it was an uncharacteristically warm evening compared to what you were used to. The breeze still chilled you, but you were wearing one of Sam’s oversized pullovers, so it helped to lessen the cold. You climbed each stair with terrified accuracy, and you held on to Sam so tightly that you were surprised he didn’t cry out. 
“You’re crazy!” You muttered through gritted teeth as you set foot on the final landing, arriving on the roof. He chuckled through his nose as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 
“Watch this.” You looked up at him in time to see him flick a light switch inside a breaker box on the wall beside you. The roof was suddenly illuminated with rope lights in a surprisingly lovely display. It almost looked like a proper terrace–one from a rooftop bar of a luxury apartment. It was apparent that he or someone had wrapped the lights in a way that used what was available; several strings looped around gutter pipes, old, outdated cable antennae and various poles, but the effect was exquisite, splashing warm light upon the concrete floor and the balustrades that wrapped around the roof.
 “What’s this?” you asked, stepping forward. 
“Mmm, It’s a spot that only the coolest know about.” He grinned, looking down at you.
“And who’s that? The pigeons?”
He rolled his eyes and walked with you. There was a short concrete wall built into the middle of the roof. For what reason? You had no idea, but as he walked you around it, you could see what Sam had turned it into. Behind it, there was a makeshift pallet, cushioned with several blankets and pillows butted up against the hard wall. He had taken a sheet and secured it to the wall and the other end pulled over one of the strings of lights to create something like a tent. 
“This may very well catch fire,” you said, grinning up at him.
“Shh,” he said, kneeling down on the blankets. “Join me.” He held his hand out for you to take. The little lean-to pillow fort was beautiful in the dim light. It didn’t take grand gestures to impress you. Your stomach couldn’t help but flutter with feeling. Sam was exactly what you needed.
You watch him fiddle beneath the covers to reveal a small Coleman cooler. “How did you–you had all of this prepared?” You asked, confused as to how and why he would pull this together with such little notice. 
“Well, I wasn’t really in town when you called,” he admitted with blushing cheeks. 
“So you literally ran the pillows, blankets and cooler up here while I was driving here?”
“Some have said I can be romantic at times,” He opened the cooler to reveal a half-drunk bottle of rosé over ice and a carton of strawberries. “I uh–I borrowed the bottle from Olivia next door to me. Didn’t have time to go to the store.” He looked at you, blushing from slight embarrassment. 
“You are such a dork,” you said, pulling your hands up to his cheeks, pulling him to you. You kissed him, letting your upset fall away upon his lips. 
“Sam, thank you. Thank you so much.”
“It’s nothing, really.” He sat with his back against the wall, pulling you to cuddle into him. 
“No, you just don’t understand. No one has done something like this for me.” You make sure to find his eyes, communicating to him that it was the truth and that it mattered to you. “It matters,” you finished, echoing your thoughts out loud to him. 
“Well, you matter to me, Y/n. So much.” 
***
“Tell me,” You asked, laying flat on your back beside Sam, your fingers tangled together, thumbs fidgeting, stroking each other’s hand absently. “What’s it like having a set of twins as your brothers?”
He sat quiet for a moment after releasing a chuckle through his nose. “Do you happen to like the sound of nails on a chalkboard? Mixed with a nursery of crying babies? Or being in the same room as pretentious book nerds at a biweekly book club meeting? One has to outdo the other with their views of altruism and intellectualism… I’d assume it’s quite entertaining from the outside.” He rolled his head to the side and you did the same, meeting his eyes.
“How about being the youngest? What’s that like?” You asked him. You let the questions fall out in genuine curiosity. You hoped Sam didn’t mind. 
“Lonely, if I’m being honest. Growing up, Jake and Josh were inseparable. I mean, they’re twins, how couldn’t they be?” Sam spoke matter-of-factly. “And of course there’s Ronnie. I love her, but we don’t have a super close bond or anything like that.” 
There was silence for a long moment. “Can I ask you another question?” you asked, anxiety building in your gut. 
“Always.” He said simply. 
“Why do you let people pin you as a…” you fumbled for the right word. 
“Douchebag? Jerk? Asshole?” He finished the question for you. You watched him shrug. “Because in many ways, I have been exactly that.” His honesty surprised you. He had no reason to lie, but his openness with admitting his faults intrigued you. 
“I’m trying,” he continued. “I don’t want to be that piece of shit everyone knows me as. Not anymore.” He squeezed your hand. “I have done many things I am not proud of.” He paused. “But I met you. And that’s where I’ll start new. I’m happy to have met you. You make me want to be a better person. For you.”
Paige’s words nicked at the edges of your train of thought. I don’t trust him. I don’t like him. Were you naive to believe Sam? Even after knowing his reputation? He sat there, admitting it as the truth, choosing not to avoid it, either. 
“I’m new to this,” you said, looking into his eyes. “Call me immature, or naive,” you said, shrugging. “But I just need someone who loves me and wants me. Completely. No bullshit.” You felt his thumb rolling circles into the softness of your hand. “I don’t want to be hurt. I trust you.” you nodded, as if reassuring yourself at your own words. “I trust you, Sam.” 
“I’ll do my best to keep it that way,” he answered, bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing it lightly. 
You sat there with him for a long while, staring up at the night sky. It was a shame because clouds kept drifting over the view of the stars, leaving you pleading for just a sliver of their brilliance. You laid snuggled against Sam, relishing in every little moment that the stars would shine through the cloud cover. 
“I’ve told you a lot about me tonight.” He began, and it was true. “Tell me about your childhood. What was little Y/n like?” You swallowed. Yikes. 
“Well, I grew up not too far from here. About three hours south. I’m an only child. My parents wanted more, but it just wasn’t in the cards. I was a miracle baby, come to think of it.” Sam readjusted, turning on his side. “My mom was already thirty six when she had me, and it was after years of trying.” There was a silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. 
“My first friends were really my mom and dad–maybe my cousins. It was hard making friends in school. I stuck with two or three good friends throughout much of grade school.” 
You swallowed, feeling emotion tugging at the back of your throat. “My childhood was a good one. My parents worked hard to give me anything and everything I needed…” You paused, feeling sadness swelling in your gut. 
“Hey,” Sam said, moving closer. “Everything okay?” He rubbed your shoulder gently, feeling you begin to retreat. 
“I’m okay,” you said, sniffling back the tears that threatened to fall. “ I didn’t expect to feel so–” you said before pausing. 
“Is it your dad?” He asked softly after a moment. You nodded in response, wiping at your eyes. 
“I’m sorry. In the moment I forgot. I’m so sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. You know I don’t talk about it often.” You pulled yourself closer into him, laying your head on his chest. “I avoid dealing with it. I don’t think I’ve ever truly grieved for him.” You felt him stroke your hair as you spoke. 
“I’ll be here, Y/n. I’ve never suffered a loss like that. I don’t know what it must feel like, but I want to be there for you. If you’ll let me.” 
You sniffled, feeling the pain beginning to recede. “You are the best, Sam.” 
“I highly doubt that. I’m highly cynical and self absorbed, but I guess I have my moments.” You could hear the grin in his voice, making you shake your head. “Can I ask you something?”
“Hm?” you asked, still snuggled into him.
“How would you feel about meeting my family?” 
Your eyebrows rose instantly. You weren’t expecting him to say that. “I mean, I’d love to meet them. Are you sure?” You asked, taken aback by his desire to introduce you to his family. 
“I’m sure, Y/n. I know things are relatively new. But I’ve never been more sure about something like this.” 
Just like that, he had capped the night with the exact thing you needed to hear. That you mattered, and that you were special. He was letting you into his life, beyond the surface, beyond the version of Sam that he offered to everyone. Everyone except you. 
“You okay?” He asked quietly after a minute. You hadn’t realized that he wasn’t privy to the conversation you were having to yourself. 
“I am more than okay,” you answered, unclasping your hand from his, and rolling over to grab his face with your fingertips. He pulled you in without a word, kissing the softness of your lips. “Sunday Dinner?” He asked, hovering above your mouth as the kiss came to an end. 
“Sounds like a plan,” you said before leaning in and kissing him again.
End of Part 4.
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builtbybrokenbells · 8 months ago
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Heartbreak Hot Seat | JTK
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After seeking refuge at her best friends house, Y/N can’t seem to open up enough to let Josh help her with her troubles. In a twisted turn of events, it appears that his twin brother Jake has the perfect remedy for a broken heart.
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 20k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), body worshipping, sir kink, impact play, praise, degradation, biting, nipple play, lots (and I mean lots) of dirty talk, lots (can’t stress that enough) of foreplay, body shots, softer sex (compared to what I usually write), overstimulation, multiple orgasm, (sort of) forced orgasm, simultaneous orgasm, begging, very brief and inadvertent mentions of free use kink, slight dom/sub, name calling, touch of angst, mentions of cheating/bad past relationships, breakups, sadness/depression (due to breakups), crying, long emotional talks, drinking, parting, Jake being too sweet for his own good, soft Jake, fluff, swearing, sorry if i miss any!!
hi guys ☺️ i miss writing Jake so much I had to hit you with back to back fics. this is literally porn w plot (over 2/3 of this is just smut I think), so I hope you enjoy this as much as I liked writing it! As always, enjoy, be kind, don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (I’m so, so happy to be back) (lightly edited 🥰)
“Here, you want to try this?” Josh asked, nudging your arm in hopes of breaking you from your solemn state. You blinked a few times, feeling his elbow on your skin, but his words were far away. They seemed like an echo in an empty room, like you had walked into the place only after he stopped speaking. Breathing seemed like a treacherous task, your bones aching every time your lungs inflated. You stared blankly at his hand, holding a fork in his grasp as he kindly offered you a taste of whatever he was eating. “Jake made it, it’s good.”
Jake made it.
You were sure whatever he made would be good, but the thought of food was worse than sickening to you. You wanted to be kind, to try the meal your friend (even if by extension) had made, especially after he offered you the hospitality for an afternoon hangout his home, but you couldn’t seem to accept the gracious offer. The crowd in the living room was overwhelming, despite only a few bodies being present. The chatter was loud and pulsing against your already busy brain, and Josh’s leg resting against yours was nice, but much more than you could handle in the moment.
Josh knew there was something wrong, but unlike usual, he could not seem to pry it from you. Over the last three nights you had spent crashing in his spare room, he used every ounce of energy to comfort you despite being unaware of what exactly your troubles were. You knew you could reach out to him anytime, talk to him about anything, but right now, it seemed impossible to speak the words aloud.
You had been friends with the boy for what seemed like a lifetime, surviving off his constant company and thriving off his eccentric personality. He stuck by your side through college graduations, career changes, and every challenge life seemed to throw your way. You were a busy woman, and he a busy man, and neither of you had much time for social lives outside of your demanding work schedules. Even so, that fact made your friendship all the stronger, because despite your lack of free time, you always made time for each other.
So when you showed up at his doorstep, 3am and crying while spewing absolute nonsense, he guided you to his spare bedroom and told you that it was yours for as long as you needed. The next morning, he came to check on you only to find you hadn’t slept at all. Hours spent sitting beside you attempting to cheer you up only resulted in further confusion and frustration. Despite his busy life, he cleared his schedule and made it a priority to be with you until you felt better. That afternoon, you managed some small talk, but avoided the elephant in the room. The next day, things felt a little more normal between the two of you. A few jokes were shared, and you even had a movie night in the living room with him and his partner. By then, Josh had vowed to let you speak on your own terms, but was doing everything he could to brighten your mood.
Today, when you woke from a broken and nightmare filled sleep, Josh knocked at your door to ask if you would like to get out of the house. After some internal debate, you decided it might be good for you, it might help you forget the only thing you could seem to think about, even if it was temporary. You showered (with Josh talking through the door and stressing the importance of self-care, of course), changed into some clothes you stuffed into a duffel bag during your quick escape, and the three of you hit the road.
After a short drive, you landed at the door of his twin brother’s house, where you would spend your afternoon. Jake, who you had heard loads of things about, was still a mystery to you. Between conflicting schedules and trying (and failing, sometimes) to find time to hang out with Josh, you never got much of an opportunity to get to know Jake, or even Sam for that matter. You knew he was quieter, a little more reserved than Josh, but was funny and had a heart of gold. You chalked up his praise to being his brother, but you never knew Josh to be a liar about anything. You trusted all he had to say about his brothers, and despite your sadness, you were excited to finally meet them properly, rather than just in passing.
You said a brief hello to Jake at times, mostly when you were leaving Josh’s house and he was heading in. You remembered him to be on the shorter side, but with a breathtaking smile and long, brown hair. When you stepped foot into the house and finally had time to appreciate the man standing in front of you, you understood Jake was a lot more than a pretty smile and long hair. He was stunning, and despite your broken heart, you couldn’t help but stare.
Not long after your brief introduction, the rest of the crowd begin to filter in. Sam and his girlfriend both seemed lovely, and Daniel and the friend he brought with him were just as nice. Jake had made lunch, and whatever it was smelled heavenly even if the thought of food sickened you. After a few hours of laughing and talking, the boys went back for seconds, clearing out the last of the food in the kitchen. The day was dwindling into evening, and you still hadn’t managed to break from your solemn state. You sat, listening to all of the conversations and laughing along to jokes, but didn’t find yourself with enough energy to contribute much.
Josh, clearly picking up on your lack of involvement, was doing all he could to help. Offering food was just another failed attempt of many.
“I’m okay, Josh. Thank you though.” You forced a smile, feeling guilty for your constant rejection. You wanted to tell him so badly, but every time you worked up enough courage to explain it, your words failed you and you thought you might be sick. His sad eyes seemed to be staring into your soul, and it was becoming too much to bear. “I’m, uh, is it okay if I grab something to drink?” You cleared your throat, asking for permission in hopes of changing the subject.
“F’course it is, mama.” He assured you. “You want me to come with you?”
“No, it’s okay.” You assured him, sliding forward and rising to your feet.
“Grab anything in the fridge. I know Jake won’t care.” He said, making sure you didn’t feel bad about taking anything.
“Okay.” You smiled, small but genuine. You didn’t feel deserving of Josh’s kindness, but you were still grateful he cared for you so much. If not for him, you would have nobody to lean on.
Quietly, you walked out of the living room and in the direction of the kitchen Jake had lead you to earlier in the day. When you were alone, you let out a long sigh. The kitchen was decorated nicely, simple but tasteful, and the sweet smell of whatever Jake had cooked was still lingering in the air. Instead of walking to the refrigerator, you took a seat at one of the kitchen chairs pulled out from the table, deciding a minute alone was more important than a glass of water.
You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back on your shoulders. The chatter floating in from the next room was much less overwhelming, and you finally felt like you could breathe without the constant ache in your chest. Just when you felt like you were getting your bearings back, you heard soft footsteps puttering through the hallway. You swallowed the lump in your throat, the same one that was constantly bothering you since you showed up at Josh’s house, and prepared for another round of questions from your best friend. You didn’t turn to face him, figuring he would make himself known in due time.
“Hey, Y/N, right?” The voice was not as familiar to you, and definitely not the voice you thought it would be. You looked over your shoulder, curious as to who was talking. Your eyes landed on Jake, a sheepish smile on his face as he stood by the door.
“Hey, yeah.” You nodded, trying to make yourself friendlier than you felt. It was not Jake making you miserable, or anyone for that matter. You wanted to be having fun, to be getting to know the people most important to your best friend, but the weight on your shoulders made it so hard to enjoy the moment.
“I saw you sneak out, thought I’d come and check in on you.” He explained, careful with his words. “Mind if I sit?” You gave a chuckle, and genuine smile as you listened to his words.
“It’s your kitchen, Jake, f’course you can sit.”
“Right,” he nodded, stepping towards you. “Guess I was wondering if you were up for company, or if you just needed a minute alone. I know it can be a lot to handle when we’re all together.”
“No! You guys are great, guess I’m just not in it today.” You said, knowing he hit the nail straight on the head but you were too nice to admit it. “Come sit, please.” He did as you said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. He was in perfect view and facing you, giving you ample opportunity to soak in his features as he thought about how to continue the conversation.
“That’s okay, sweetheart. Josh mentioned you were going through a tough time when I called him this morning. We were kinda hoping it would take your mind off whatever’s going on.” You wanted to recoil at the idea of Josh sharing your sorrows with a man you did not know, but the intent was sweet, and you knew Josh would never do anything to harm you. He was just a concerned friend looking for a way to cheer you up. Jake, despite being a near stranger, had enough kindness in his heart to want to help too.
And sweetheart.
You didn’t know the man, nor much about him, but you definitely wouldn’t mind if he called you that again.
“Thank you,” your lips twitched into another smile as you looked down at your hands on the table. “He’s pretty great, isn’t he?”
“Josh?” Jake asked for clarification that he heard right, raising his eyebrow at you. You gave a small nod, almost wanting to laugh at his incredulous tone. “Yeah, I mean I guess. I kind of have to agree, cause he’s my brother and all.” At that, a genuine laugh filled the air, the first one that left your lips in days. Jake was hung on your laugh the minute it left your lips, finding the sound addicting despite just having heard it for the first time. The smile on his face made it apparent he only came to cheer you up, and he was happy he could do it even for a moment. “No, he is pretty great, even if I do hate him by times.”
“It’s a sibling thing, I think.” You said, looking back up at his face. “Love them, even when you hate them.”
“Exactly.” He nodded, agreeing with you. “He’s my best friend, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want to kill him sometimes. Has a great heart, but he can be a bit… annoying.”
“Josh? No.” You scoffed, playing into the bit as clear sarcasm dripped from your tone. At that, Jake let out a laugh of his own. You watched, in amazement at how beautiful such a simple sound could be. “Seriously though, I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“Yeah, you guys have been friends for a long time, haven’t you?” He asked, leaning forward and into the conversation. It was your turn to nod, finding years of memories flash before your eyes when you thought of it for too long.
“Yeah, I met him as I was finishing up my graduate program in university. He’d just moved here, and I guess he was looking for some friends. Right place right time, I suppose.”
“Funny how things like that work out.” He said, listening intently to every word.
“For sure.” You hummed, pursing your lips slightly at the memory of how you met. “Ran into him at a bar, drunk off tequila and singing a terrible rendition of… oh, fuck, what was it?” You racked your brain, trying so hard to find the name of the song in the mess of your mind. “It was Neil Young, I remember that much.” You sighed, shaking your head at your spotty memory.
“Don’t Let It Bring You Down.” He finished for you, a sparkle shining in his eye as he saw your expression light up.
“Yes! How did you know?” You asked, shocked he knew before you did.
“I was there that night, and I definitely made fun of him just as much as you did.” He explained, chuckling at the thought.
“You were there?” You asked, even more surprised at that fact.
“Yeah, think I was playing pool with Sam. Josh sucks at pool, so he was trying to find a thrill elsewhere. He told us he met someone, he really liked their ‘energy’. Guess he was talking about you.” He continued, nodding at himself as he recollected the night from so long ago. “That, and he sings that damn song every time he drinks tequila.”
“Huh,” you huffed, wondering how you managed to miss him that night. “I guess I was out the door pretty fast. I don’t even think I talked to Josh for very long. Got his number and we were off to the next bar. We loved to party back then.”
“Shame, cause he’s been keeping you an awful secret for the last few years.” Jake let out a disapproving tsk at the end of his statement.
“No, it’s not him.” You promised, shutting down the notion. “Life’s crazy. I’m either always stuck at work, or at home—“ you cut yourself off, hearing the sound of the word fall from your lips. It was wrong, and so much so that it twisted your stomach with nausea. “Stuck at work.” You doubled back, feeling a frown start to form again. The word home felt like a sour taste in your mouth that you couldn’t swallow back.
Jake watched you for a moment, curious about your sudden change of heart, but understanding it might not be the best time to venture into it.
“Did you want a drink, sweetheart?” Jake asked, his eyes flickering to the fridge. “Maybe something to take your mind off it?” You debated, wondering if it would better or worsen your mental state. Before you could decline, he spoke again. “I was gonna have one anyway, so it’s no trouble at all. Be nice to have someone to drink with, anyway.”
“Fuck it, why not?” You breathed, watching as another breathtaking smile blossomed on his lips. “I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Great.” He stood, taking two steps past you as he approached a cabinet by the refrigerator. “Want to come have a look?” He offered, looking back over his shoulder at you. You shrugged, nodding as you stood to join him. He opened the doors, revealing a plethora of bottles that all looked a little more expensive than you were used to. “Whatever you want.”
You noticed how close he was standing, how sweet his cologne smelled as it wafted in your direction. It was musky, ambery even, with sandalwood standing strong against the undertones. He had his finger resting against his chin as his eyes scanned the labels, clearly unsure of what he wanted, too. You couldn’t help but study the intricacies of his face, the bridge of his nose and how it casted a shadow over his soft cheeks, the unintentional pout of his bottom lip, and the enchanting colour of his irises. He was stunning, and it was hard not to notice it.
‘Stop it, Y/N. You’re in no position to think anyone is attractive, let alone your best friends brother.’ Your thoughts were right, full of warnings you knew you should listen to, yet there was something so enchanting about Jake that made it difficult to listen. ‘Thinking he’s attractive is only bad if I plan to act on it, which I’m definitely not. It’s okay to admire him, as long as that’s all it is.’ You felt the devil weigh in on the matter, and for some reason, that train of thought was much easier to go along with.
So you did. Simple as that, you decided to allow yourself the pleasure. It was almost as simple as acknowledging how beautiful Jake was.
“Anything catching your eye?” He asked, looking over at you. You knew he was aware of your staring, and when your eyes caught his, your cheeks tinged red. He gave you a smile, silently telling you all was well.
“There’s so much to choose from.” You said, forcing yourself to look back at the liquor cabinet.
“Do you like it straight, or do you prefer something sweet?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you once again. Although the question was innocent and clearly pertaining to the topic at hand, you couldn’t help but feel your heart speed. Your body was encased in goosebumps at the simple thought of him meaning it in any other way.
“Usually sweet, but I think today I could handle it straight.” You replied, having to tear your eyes away from him again. Had you looked for a moment longer, you might have noticed the ghost of a smirk on his face.
“This is my favourite.” He said, reaching out and grabbing an expensive looking bottle. He brought it down to your level, leaning into you slightly as he let you read the label for yourself. As his arm brushed against yours, you felt the same pull of your heart as you did when he first sat across from you.
“I’ll try it out.” You mumbled, a little breathless as he looked over your face.
“Good taste,” he hummed. “You’ll like it, I promise.” He assured you, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip ever so slightly.
“I trust you.” You said, feeling like you were coercing your tongue to speak the words.
“You should.” He responded, waiting for you to step away first. It felt like an eternity before you stepped backwards towards the table, but when you did, you missed the closeness of him almost immediately. The warmth of his body against yours was memorable, and definitely something you wanted to feel again.
You returned to your seat at the table, followed closely behind by Jake. Before he sat, he grabbed two glasses and the ice tray from the freezer. Carefully, he poured yours first before adding a few ice cubes to the cup. Then, he nudged it in your direction before fixing his own drink.
“What’s on your mind, beautiful?” He asked, swirling his ice around his cup before bringing it to his lips. As he sipped at the amber liquid, his eyes never left your face.
“Oh, nothing important.” You shook your head, averting your gaze to the glass in your hand. You did the same, raising the crystal to your lips and drinking down the alcohol like it was water.
“You’re drinking that awfully fast for someone who’s got ‘nothing important’ going on.” He noted, cocking his head to the side for a moment, as if he was trying to figure you out. “I’ve got an ear to lend, if you want to talk.” He offered, but opted not to press any further. He didn’t want to force you if you weren’t willing, but he did want you to know that the floor was yours if you needed.
“I wouldn’t want to bore you.” You chuckled, watching the condensation of the glass drip onto your fingers. The chill of the liquid distracted you from the severity of the topic. “You’ve been kind enough already, Jake. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for inviting me.”
“No thanks needed, y/n. Seriously, Josh talks about you enough that I feel like I already know you, and trust me when I say, I like you just as much as he does.” He promised, taking another small sip of his drink. “And I offered, sweetheart. I want to listen, even if you don’t think I do.”
“What is with you two?” You chuckled, shaking your head at his staggering kindness. “Too nice for your own good, both of you.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” He grinned, finding your exasperation amusing.
“No, it’s not.” You shook your head, feeling your heart warm with gratitude for the two brothers. You barely knew Jake, but you agreed with what he said. Josh spoke about him enough that you felt like you were friends already, and by all of the nice things Josh had to say, you definitely liked him. Since stepping foot into the kitchen, you had come to greatly appreciate him for other reasons, too.
“That’s the heartbreak chair.” He explained, running a hand through his hair as he pushed it away from his face. “Something about it draws people in.” Your eyes flickered up to his face, shocked that he made such an assumption, and even more surprised that it was right. He barely knew you, but he could tell without you having to say a word.
“It’s that obvious?” You asked. He shook his head, rubbing his chin in his hand for a moment before he spoke again.
“No,” he cleared his throat, taking in a long breath before he continued. “Like I said, there’s something about that fuckin’ chair.”
“How so?”
“Two years ago, Sam sat there when his girlfriend broke up with him. Must’ve spent the whole night sitting there, drinking away the pain.” He said, thinking back on the event. “And Daniel, a few months back when him and his girlfriend went separate ways. Even Josh, a long time ago when we first moved here.” He explained. “Whatever it is, when people get their heart broken, they sit there. I usually sit here, but it’s not always me they’re talking to. Sometimes it’s Josh, or another friend, or anyone really.” You thought about his words, carefully considering your next question before asking it.
“Have you sat here?” Your eyes were showing the sadness you tried so hard to hide. You didn’t know why, but you were comfortable with Jake. You wanted to talk, to tell him all about the sadness plaguing you. Something about him made you believe that your sorrows were safe with him, and that he was the key to feeling better.
It was an invasive question, something personal and maybe too complicated for him to answer. You regretted asking, but hearing about his brother's sorrows didn’t sit right with you. If you were giving him a piece of you, you wanted a piece of him. He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between your face and the whiskey in his cup. Eventually, he gave a slow nod.
“More than anyone else, I think.” His honesty was sobering, and it was admirable. Because of his willingness to share his sadness with you, you felt even better about opening up to him. “I’ve never been lucky in love. Always a bridesmaid, never a bride.” He shrugged, the joke rolling off his tongue effortlessly despite the hidden pain in his eyes. “About six months ago, I was doing the same as you. Came home, she was gone without a trace. I stayed a few nights at Josh’s house, just ‘till I was strong enough to come back here, and I drank it all away. I’ve sat in that chair, sweetheart. You’re not the only broken heart this house has seen. Trust me.”
“It’s hard to open up to Josh about it.” You said, forcing your hand to hold the glass to the table. The burn of the alcohol in your chest was much preferred to the ache in your heart, but you persevered. “‘Specially when I watch how happy and in love he is. He’s got everything, you know? Nice house, kind heart, beautiful face, and a wonderful boyfriend. It’s intimidating talking about my mess of a life to someone who always seems to have their shit together.”
“I can see what you mean.” He nodded along, agreeing to an extent. “You know, he’d never think differently of you. He loves you a whole hell of a lot.”
“I know that, but I think when you’re this miserable, it’s hard to believe anyone cares that much.”
“For sure.” He said, swallowing down another mouthful of whiskey.
Just as he placed his cup down on the table, the distant chatter in the living room began to move closer. Both of you turned to the entryway to the kitchen, wondering what the disturbance was. Soon enough, the crowd filled the doorway, but only Sam and Josh were visible.
“Think we’re gonna head to the bar, you two in?” Sam asked, oblivious to the situation in front of him.
“I’m good.” Jake said, his tone firm and certain of his answer. Josh looked at you, curiosity in his eyes as he waited for a response.
“Y/N?” Josh asked, wondering if you were joining them. You looked between the twins, your eyes lingering a bit too long over Jake. When you looked back at Josh, you shook your head slightly.
“Think I might hang out here a bit longer, if that’s okay?”
“F’course it is.” Jake chimed in. “You go, I’ll get her back to your place safe and sound.” Josh looked to you once more, making sure you were alright. You gave him a smile, nodding your head in agreement with Jake.
“Okay, I’ll see you later. Love you, mama.”
“Love you too, Josh.” You smiled again, wider and with more warmth than ever.
With that, the group moved towards the door, and they were out in the yard within seconds. The silence hung heavy between you and Jake, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. So far, despite you being a stranger, your talk with Jake had been nothing but comfortable.
“So, does that mean you don’t think I have my life together?” Jake continued where you left off, clearly teasing. The smile on his face gave him away as he pulled his chair a little closer to you.
“‘Spose I don’t know you well enough to know, yet. From what I see, looks like you do, if that counts?” He let out a laugh, finding your humor despite the pain beautiful.
“You hungry?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Noticed you didn’t eat earlier.”
“Think I missed the draw on that one.” You said, looking at the empty dish on the stove. He stood, wordless as he walked to the refrigerator. He searched for a few seconds before pulling out a plate, flashing it in your direction.
“Put some away for you, just in case. I knew they would eat it all, so I just wanted to make sure there was some left.” He explained. The sound of his words made your heart ache, but it wasn’t in a bad way; the simple action, especially coming from someone who barely knew you, made the whole world seem a little bit brighter. You understood Josh’s constant talk of how big of a heart Jake had now that you had the chance to see it for yourself.
“Thank you, Jake.” You mustered the strength to speak, in awe of his attention to detail. He stuck it in the microwave, waiting for it to beep before placing it in front of you with a fork. Without mentioning it again, he sat back in the same spot, as if the last few minutes had never happened at all.
“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked again, more direct this time now that he felt he had some kind of leverage. Clearly he made a good enough impression on you, considering you hadn’t run out the door when the opportunity arose. Before responding, you took a few bites of the meal he’d made in preparation for his company. Your eyes fluttered closed in bliss, the taste something you had never experienced before. You weren’t sure if it was just because he was a good cook, or if it was because it had been days since you had a proper meal. Maybe, it was a combination of both.
For such a simple looking pasta dish, it was beyond anything you had ever eaten before.
“This is so fucking good, Jake.” You commended him for his efforts. He let out another laugh, happy that you were enjoying it.
“Good to know,” he nodded. “I’ll have to make it for you again sometime.”
“You’ll never get rid of me.” You joked, placing the fork down for a moment, wanting to make the meal last.
“Not the worst idea in the world.” He shrugged. You felt your cheeks dust with redness, his words almost too sweet for you to handle. You washed down the pleasant feeling of his compliments with another sip of whiskey, settling back in your seat as you prepared to confess.
“I think I’ve always been too blind to see the bad side of people,” you started, simple and easy to kick off the topic. “I like to see the best in everyone, ‘till the very end.”
“Admirable.” He responded quickly, shocking you with his interest in your sorrows.
“I dated this guy for a while, a few years at least. Guess it wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows, but I loved him, or the idea of him, more so. He moved in with me not long after we met, and it was nice. Things seemed real good for a long time, but a couple months ago, he kinda pulled back a bit. I didn’t think much of it, ‘cause I was working all the time anyway, but I probably should have.” You sighed. “I started noticing he was gone when I came home at night, or when he went out, he stayed out far too late for a couple drinks with friends. Found some… suspicious things around the house, but chalked it up to a bad memory.” You laughed, shaking your head at your own stupidity. “I went home after work on Friday, and he was in bed with another girl. Mutual friend, real pretty, sweet on the surface… everything that I’m not.”
“That’s not true, sweetheart.” He shook his head, stopping that thought before it could go any further.
“Think we were long overdue for a breakup, but I thought it would be more decent than that.” You shuddered, recalling the moment that had been plaguing you for days. “I’m less heartbroken over him than I am for the whole thing. It’s just… dehumanizing, I guess. How many times did we… you know, after they started? And in my bed? Where I sleep at night?” You continued, watching the ice circle the bottom of your cup as the liquid neared the end. Jake reached out for the bottle, popping the cork and refilling your glass for you. You smiled, a silent thank you for everything he was doing.
“There wasn’t really a fight, or anything. I mean, I yelled for a little while, but it wasn’t worth my time. I told him to pack his shit and get out, and I assume he did. I haven’t been back, but I haven’t heard from him, either. Guess I just… don’t want to be in that place right now, alone, with that memory.”
“Don’t know the guy, but I can tell you he’s a fucking idiot.” He said, throwing back the last of his drink and refilling his own cup. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to be home. Like I said, I stayed at Josh’s for a while too. Sometimes it’s nice to get out of the place full of stuff that reminds you of them.”
“Yeah, exactly.” You gave a somber nod, blinking away tears threatening your eyes. “Think it always circles back to the same thing at the end of the day… hard not to think it’s me, that I wasn’t enough, or if I could have done more. That’s the hardest part of it, really. Not like he was the boyfriend of the year or anything, but I never would have done that to him.” You took another long swig of whiskey, feeling your head begin to swirl with intoxication.
“It’s not you, Y/N. You know better than that.” He said, furrowing his brow as he thought over your story. “So what is it? What do you need?”
“What?” You asked, unsure of what he meant.
“He got what he wanted, so what do you need, sweetheart? To scream? Cry? To get so drunk that you don’t know where you are?” He listed the offers, as if they were all completely reasonable and understandable. He didn’t want to speak empty words, or give you reassurances that would wash right off your shoulders once he was done speaking. He wanted to help you feel better, however he could. “We could even key his car, if you know where to find it.”
You let out a laugh, one that shook your shoulders and made your stomach ache. While you laughed, tears slipped on to your cheeks, but they did not phase you. Jake’s company was so fantastic that the hurt didn’t even seem to bother you anymore.
“You’re too beautiful to be crying over someone like that, sweetheart.” He leaned over, using his thumb to brush away the teardrops staining your cheeks. Once he finished, he cupped your cheek in his palm, ensuring you knew he was being truthful.
“No idea how you’ve never been the bride, Jacob.” You said, exhaling a long breath as you melted into his touch. It felt nice to be touched at all, and even better to be touched by someone who cared. It felt like it had been an eternity since you had experienced that in particular.
“My day will come, just like yours will.” He promised. “I know it hurts, but with time, you’ll thank him for it, because a girl like you shouldn’t end up with a guy like that.”
“Thank you, Jake.” You said, the utmost sincerity in your voice.
“Don’t mention it.” He brushed off the thanks, smiling over at you. “Now what is it? What will make you feel better, right now? ‘Cause I’ll be damned if I send you out the door before you feel better.”
“I just want to stop.” You sighed, rubbing your face in your hands. “I want to stop hurting, to stop thinking about him, to stop feeling like a different person. I want to feel like me. I want to feel good, instead of being miserable.” Jake leaned back in his chair, watching your face carefully as he thought about your request. You looked over at him, chuckling at yourself. “I know, steep request. Probably not much in the world we can do about that. Yet, anyway.”
“No, there is.” He cleared his throat, pursing his lips together slightly. You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued by his response.
“Go on.” You urged him, curious about his idea.
“I don’t know if I can help you feel exactly like yourself again,” he started, looking up at the ceiling while he tried to word his response. “But I definitely have a quick solution for some of those problems.”
“Let’s hear it, then.” He smirked at your eagerness to feel better. Before he continued, he threw back the last of his drink for a second time. You could tell he was feeling it now, too. His cheeks were tinged pink and his eyes grew heavier the longer he sipped away.
“You’re open to any suggestions?”
“Well, most.” You huffed, almost annoyed by how long he was dragging this out. “Maybe not murder or armed robbery.” He laughed at your exuberance, shaking his head slightly.
“Well, sweetheart…” he sighed. “You want to stop thinking about him, and you want to feel good.” He listed, waiting to see if he was correct. You nodded in response, still not seeming to piece the two together. “If you’re open to trying it, I’m sure I could solve both of those problems at once.”
“Okay, Jake, this is not helping. Can you just—“ you cut yourself off, your eyes widening in shock as the puzzle finally clicked in place. You swallowed hard, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. As you looked at his expression, your cheeks burned red and your throat went dry. “Just to clarify, are you offering what I think you are?”
“Depends, beautiful.” He said, his tone soft and his eyes trained to your face. “What do you think I’m saying?”
“Are you offering to fuck me?” You wanted to be repulsed by the idea, but you were far from it. If anything, the feeling burning in the pit of your stomach told you the exact opposite, imploring you to fall into his arms and let him do as he pleased with you.
“Well, I’m pretty sure that would get your mind off him.” He argued his point, playful and calm so you knew rejection was more than allowed. “And if you’ll let me, I know I could help with that other part, too.” He let out a small huff of breath, as if he was excited just by the prospect of the opportunity.
“You offer that to every heartbroken girl who sits in this chair?” You asked, ensuring he knew you weren’t denying the offer.
“No,” he shook his head. “You’d be the first, and the only one, I think.”
“You think?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Never know what the future brings.” He shrugged, trying to keep his composure. As soon as he saw your bewildered face, he doubled over in laughter. It took him a few moments to regain his composure, but when he did, he did not seem to retract his statement. When he realized you took his words seriously, he stood from his chair, stepping towards you as he spoke.
“Yes, sweetheart. The only one. Is that what you wanted to hear?” He asked, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.
“Yes, maybe? I don’t know.” You said, your eyes darting around the kitchen to avoid his heavy stare. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in this situation, so I’m not sure how to react.”
“Only if you want to, of course, but the offer is on the table.” He said, retracting his hand so as not to pressure you into it. You took a drink from your cup, finding your chest burning as you did so. Difference was, you knew it was not because of the liquor. As you sat the cup back on the table, you looked up at him, inspecting him closely.
He was attractive, and that was undeniable. You had been thinking about it since the minute you saw him, and you couldn’t seem to get the thought out of your head. Just half an hour ago, you were shivering from the closeness of his body when you were standing by the liquor cabinet, and now you were quivering just from the thought of his hands on your body. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but in the moment, what he was saying made sense to you.
He was hot, you were desperate to forget, and he was offering a quick solution.
“Okay.” You nodded. “Why not?” He watched you for another moment, standing still while you decided for certain that’s what you wanted to do. “Uhm, we won’t tell Josh about this, right?” You asked, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over you.
“Definitely not.” He laughed.
“And it’s just that? Just sex?”
“Just sex, just tonight, if that’s what you want.” He assured you.
“Okay.” You nodded again, more confident this time around. “Just sex, just tonight, with a guy I just met, who happens to be my best friend's twin brother?”
“It sounds better my way.” He said, taking a step towards you.
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
“Sex with someone who is happy to make you feel better.” He spoke quietly, kneeling down so he was eye level with you. His face was closer than it had been all night, and if it were even possible, he was even more stunning up close.
“Yeah, that does sound better.” You agreed, smiling slightly as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Jake seemed to prompt more of a physical reaction in you just by looking at you than your ex did in the entire time you’d been with him.
You weren’t sure if it was the whiskey combining with the heartbreak forcing you to make a deadly decision, or if it was just the fact you were attracted to him. Either way, you knew you couldn’t leave his house without a taste of what he was offering, because he had excited you just by mentioning it. You felt like leaving him without knowing what he could do for you would cause more grief than your breakup had in the last few days.
“So what do you say, sweetheart?” He asked, reaching forward and brushing his knuckle over your burning cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch, but you tried not to let it phase you too much. “You want me to help you forget about him?”
“Think you already have.” You mustered the strength to speak, but not the strength to look him in the eyes. You were sure if you did, you would turn to putty in his hands.
“So you’re saying you don’t need anything else?” He pried, finding the teasing amusing now that he knew you were okay with his actions.
“No, I definitely do.” You corrected him, finally opening your eyes to look over his face. “I really do.”
“Tell me what you need, angel.” He said, flattening his palm against your cheek again. His fingers were tangled in the loose strands of hair hanging over your neck, the action more telling than the last time he touched you. It was firm, more reassuring, and meant to solidify his feelings about the situation.
“You,” you bit the inside of your lip, almost embarrassed about your need for him.
“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Think we’re long past that.” He said, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Although he had full intent to follow through with his earlier promise, he wanted you to be in charge of the matter.
“Kiss me, please.” With that, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours as he held your face in his hand.
His lips still tasted like the alcohol he was sipping on, and his skin was still cold from the ice in his cup. Even so, the chill of his skin was quickly offset by the warmth of his tongue as it glided past your lips. The feeling was addicting, much more intense than you thought it might be. Your hands reached out for him, desperate for more. His fingers seemed to be burning into your skin, the touch electric and the sensation ten times more powerful than anything you had ever felt before. The emotion flowing through you from such a simple action was immeasurable, and you already needed more.
“Like that, sweetheart?” He asked, his lips still ghosting over yours as he presented the question. You were breathless, your head spinning and your mind completely free of the painful thoughts that previously seemed permanently attached to you.
“Don’t stop,” you pleaded, your voice quiet. You could feel him smiling, cocky enough to know his plan was already working. “Please, don’t stop.”
“Come with me.” He said, moving away from you and rising back to his feet. Although you were sad he pulled away at all, you knew it was for a better reason. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and his own cup, waiting for you as you tried to bring yourself back to earth. You took your own from the table, waiting for him to make the next move.
He outstretched his arm, still holding the bottle tightly in his hand as he loosely wrapped the appendage around you. Carefully, he guided you to the hallway. Without any further words shared, he led the way to his bedroom with intent to finish what he started. As soon as you stepped inside, you were surrounded by him. His cologne lingered in the air, and his clothes littered the floor. His bed was messy, but in the most inviting way possible. Patch cords and guitar picks littered the surface of his dresser, and an acoustic guitar took post in the corner of the room.
Although the stipulations of your entanglement did not extend beyond a single night, curiousity got the best of you. With your heart singing a song curated specifically for him, it was hard not to want to know more about him. Seeing his life so intimately made you crave more substance from him, even if it was ridiculous for you to think.
“What’s on your mind now?” He asked, placing the liquor down on his bedside table.
“Nothing bad,” you assured him, still trying to soak in all the room had to offer. “Guess I’m just curious about you now, is all.”
“All you have to do is ask.” He said, taking a few steps towards you. “Later, though, because talking isn’t my top priority right now.” You watched him as he closed in on you, your stomach twisting with excitement at his words. Before he could place his lips on yours again, you swallowed back the last of your drink and placed the empty cup on the top of his dresser, freeing your hands so you only had to focus on him.
You stepped forward, closing the distance between you as your hand landed on his bicep. Now, with the opportune position, he had the luxury to touch you as he pleased with nothing standing in his way. One of his hands fell to your hip, his grip firm as he pulled your body into his own. He leaned down, placing his other hand on the back of your neck as he guided your head towards his. He started slow, fearful he might have come on too strong, but you weren’t willing to take your time with him.
It had been a long time since you had been excited by the prospect of sex, and despite knowing you should not be feeling such a way about anyone, let alone Jake in particular, he had elicited that response from you easier than anyone who came before. Even though his kindness was the most abundant of all his traits, you caught a few glimpses of what lie beneath, and if you were being completely honest, that was what held your attention.
The way his arm felt resting against yours at the liquor cabinet, the sly smile after his ambiguous questions, his heavy stare when he thought you weren’t looking, and the sparkle in his eye when you laughed. That was what drew you in, and everything else was just a cherry on top.
When you first sat with Jake, you almost felt guilty that you were so willing to tell him about your troubles, especially after shutting Josh out. Now, with his lips on yours and his hands exploring your body, it made sense that you felt such a way. Jake was offering much more than Josh could, and he could help in ways that Josh could not begin to imagine. He gave you an easy pass to forgetting, a quick solution to feeling good, and a simple way to move on, even if it were only for a short time. Jake was the perfect fit for what you needed, and you were happy that he was so eager to help.
Time was the only true healer, but Jake was a catalyst to speed the process up, and a very pleasurable one at that.
As the kiss continued, the two of you grew much more comfortable with each other. Your body had relaxed and your hands were more courageous as they travelled over the parts of him you were desperate to know. Your entire body was ablaze with excitement, and your mind was completely free of all the previous fears and feelings you were plagued with. His hand on your hip had drifted to your ass, pulling your hips forward into his as he became familiar with the taste of you on his lips.
If you had any fear about his willingness to sleep with you, it was destroyed within seconds of stepping into his bedroom. You could feel his own excitement, through his actions and other, more obvious signs. As he continued to kiss you, you could feel his erection against your leg, straining against the zipper of his jeans. As much as he wanted to take your mind off of things, you were just as happy to relieve him of the problem you had so easily caused.
When he parted from the kiss, his lips were pink and swollen, glistening with spit under the low light flowing in through his window. His hair was messy from your fingers running through it, and his eyes were darker than they were in the kitchen.
If you thought he was beautiful before, it had nothing on how he looked now.
His hands drifted under the hem of your shirt as he looked over your face, ensuring you were comfortable with continuing. When he was met with pleading eyes and a hopeful expression, his lips quirked up into a smile as he lifted your shirt over your head. As he tossed it to the floor, his gaze traveled downward, allowing himself to admire the parts of you that were usually kept hidden. He sucked in a sharp breath, as if the sight knocked the air from him completely and he was trying to recover from the shock.
“So fucking beautiful, angel.” He hummed, his hands finding you again as he spoke. The feeling of his calloused fingertips against the smooth skin was exhilarating, and even more enticing than anything he’d done before. He dropped his head to the crook of your neck, bringing his lips back to your skin as if he was already missing the feeling of kissing you.
He focused on your neck for a moment, curiously exploring as he tried to find the sweet spots. When his tongue settled below your ear, a whine fell from your lips, so quiet he nearly missed it. The sound reached his ears, sending his skin tingling as it wrapped around his spine and made home there. He kept his attention in the same spot, desperate to hear more. Your hand raised to his arm, holding yourself steady as your stomach swirled with emotion. His mouth continued lower, and courage flooded him as his hands continued to familiarize themselves with you.
He unhooked your bra, brushing the straps from your shoulders as his mouth landed on your collarbone. You felt his teeth graze the skin, the action gentle but purposeful as your bra fell to the ground with your shirt. Now, without anything standing between the two of you, his hand landed on your breast. His thumb drifted over your nipple, moving in a slow circular motion as he felt it harden under his touch. The small sensation only furthered the ache between your legs, and you could feel the wetness begin to soak through the fabric of your underwear.
As he continued his work, you felt your thighs squeeze together in a shameless attempt to ease the discomfort. You didn’t want to rush him, because everything he was doing was phenomenal, but it was growing increasingly difficult to bite your tongue when you so badly needed more from him.
Eventually, his head dropped low enough for his tongue to graze your already sensitive nipple. The warmth of his mouth paired with the precision of his tongue was deadly. You felt a shaky breath rattle your chest as you tried to keep yourself calm, but it was growing increasingly difficult to do so. You needed him more than you needed anything in your entire life; your body craved him in a way you never knew to be possible, and he had promoted more pleasures than anyone before without even needing to take all of your clothes off.
Something about Jake was otherworldly, and his promises to help you forget were not empty. He was doing exactly as he intended, better than you ever thought he could.
He seemed to be enjoying the moment just as much as you were, completely content with pleasing you and never worrying about his own needs. You had never, in your entire life, met someone who was concerned with your needs first.
He pulled his mouth away from you, his eyes fluttering up to your face as he took a few seconds to sort out his thoughts. His eyes were blackened, his pupils completely consuming his irises as he thought about all of the possibilities the night could have.
“Let’s get you out of these,” he muttered, hooking his fingers through the back belt loop on your jeans.
He pulled the fabric away from your skin, letting it snap back to form as he pulled his hand away. The thud of the material against your skin sent another rush of arousal through you, and you found yourself complying to the request without a second thought. He brought one hand to the button, undoing it with ease as he dropped to his knees once again. He pulled down the zipper, tugging on the fabric so they fell down past your hips. As soon as the denim was out of his way, he brought his lips to your stomach, focusing his attention there for a moment before going any further.
You were aching for relief as his tongue drifted over the exposed skin, and you were nearly brought to your knees as he took the time to leave a trail of pink marks where his lips landed. It would be a reminder of the night for days to come, darkening further with time, and you were thrilled at the idea of having a physical memory of his touch when not in his company. He pulled your jeans further down your legs, his lips now ghosting over your hips as he tapped your leg. You lifted one foot from the ground, allowing him to free you from the jeans entirely. You repeated the process with the other leg, and eventually, the jeans were strewn across the floor and gone from your memory completely.
“Jake, I need you.” You huffed, looking down at him, watching carefully where his lips met your skin. He did not respond right away, seemingly wanting to finish what he started before moving on to something new.
Then, his lips pulled away from you, but did not stray too far from their original position. You watched the muscles in his jaw tense as he comprehended the raw emotion behind your words.
“You need me?” He repeated, his voice husky and his eyes heavy as he bargained with the fact.
“Please,” you whispered, breathless as you tried to recover from the constant stimulation he was providing. “So bad, baby.” He drew in a long breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he heard the pet name fall from your lips.
“How could I say no to you when you sound so pretty?” He asked, the question without need of an answer. With that, he used his arm to push you towards the foot of the bed, only stopping when the backs of your knees collided with the mattress.
Then, he rose to his feet, finding himself at eye level with you once again. “What do you want me to do, angel?”
“Anything; just touch me, please.” Your voice was weak, his effect still strong over you even though he wasn’t touching you.
“Anything I want?” He asked, stepping closer and bringing his hand to your side again. He let his fingers trail down until they met the hug of the elastic band of your underwear on your hip. “Are you sure about that?”
“Positive.” You gave a single nod, showcasing your certainty on the matter. He chuckled at your eager nature, looking you over once while he thought of what to do next.
“Lay down for me, sweetheart.” He said, nodding his head towards the bed behind you. “Don’t be shy, get comfortable.” He continued, watching as you turned towards the mattress, unsure if it was possible to climb in and be uncomfortable. The blankets looked soft, and warm, even if they were strewn messily across the surface. The pillows looked like clouds, and there definitely wasn’t a lack of them. More than that, it smelled like him, even from afar. Although you’d only known him for a short time, it had already become a comforting scent for you.
You did as he asked, climbing into the bed and rearranging a few of the pillows. Once you were satisfied, you laid on your back, looking up for him as you awaited further instructions. He gave you a small smile, unable to refute how much he liked the sight of you in his bed, even if it was under strange circumstances.
It was never like Jake to dislike the sight of any girl in his bed, but you seemed to tug on his heart just a little more than others that came before.
“This is a sight I could get used to.” He hummed, adjusting himself in his jeans as he let his eyes trail every bit of exposed skin you had to offer.
“Thought this was a one time thing, Jacob?” He chuckled at your question, unbuttoning the few buttons holding his shirt together. As he slid the fabric from his shoulders, he responded to your inquiries.
“I said if that’s what you want,” he reminded you, dropping the shirt to the floor. Your eyes drifted to his body, drinking in every inch of him. The way the columns of his neck blended perfectly into his collarbones. You studied the structure of his shoulders, focusing intently on his biceps as your eyes trailed down his arms. Then, your gaze moved to his chest, the tan skin decorated with necklaces hanging from his neck. Your admiration ended when your eyes met the buckle of his belt, and you realized he was watching you watch him. “For some reason, I don’t think you’ll be able to stay away.” He sent a wink in your direction to follow his words.
His ego was taking up every spare inch of space in the room, and he was completely different than he was when you were sitting with him in the kitchen. The sweetness still lingered underneath the surface, but his desire had turned him wicked and he was doing everything he could to keep you on his hook. You couldn’t find a single complaint about it, because you loved this version of him even more than the kind hearted man who opened his home and his liquor cabinet to you.
“I think I want another drink,” he started, looking at the bottle decorating his nightstand. His gaze flickered back to you, wanting to ensure you were still watching him. “How about you?” You couldn’t help the sinking feeling in your stomach, wishing that he would just go back to touching you. The banter was fun, and you loved talking to him, but you had needs far more pressing than conversing with him. “Don’t look so disappointed, Angel.” He hummed, grabbing the bottle of whiskey. “I promised to make you feel good, and I’m going to…” he trailed off, popping the cork from the bottle as he kneeled on the bed beside you. “But I have to have my fun, too.”
With that, he brought the spout of the bottle to your navel, carefully letting the trickle of cool liquid fall to your skin. A few droplets trickled down the side of you, landing on the mattress below, but he didn’t care. With great gentleness, he reached out and placed the bottle back on the stand. Without breaking your stare, he settled himself between your legs, his head hovering over your belly as he leaned down a little closer.
With his eyes still settled on your face, he let his tongue glide over your stomach just above your panty line. The skin was already dampened from the spill of liquid from the bottle, cold from the air hitting the wet surface. His tongue warmed the skin, but did much more than just that. The gentleness of his touch cause a plethora of emotions to course through you all at once, and you couldn’t seem to keep your mind straight. The disarray only seemed to worsen as he trailed upwards, drinking up the whiskey like he was a professional on the matter.
When the alcohol was consumed, he did not stop his tyrant. Instead, he continued all the way up until his tongue met your breast once again, circling around your nipple before suctioning his lips to you completely. The warmth and wetness of his mouth was otherworldly, and the new position allowed for his hips to meet yours while he continued teasing you. You shifted down on the mattress, not enough to break his focus, but just enough for your aching core to meet with his cock, strained against his jeans. The contact was minuscule, but enough to elicit a sharp intake of breath from him.
He used his free hand to hold your hips in place, grinding himself down on you ever so slight to give you a bit of relief. The friction was good, even if it wasn’t enough. Paired with the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive nipple, it was enough to pry a moan from your lips.
“Jake, please touch me. Need it so bad.” You whined, feeling your hips raise from the mattress despite his hand holding you down. He pulled his mouth away from you, a small popping sound ringing through the air as he lost the suction of his cheeks.
“You want me to touch you, beautiful?” He asked, shimmying to the side so he could do as you asked. He brought one hand between your legs, resting beside you on his knees as he held himself up with his other arm. His fingers ghosted over the thin fabric covering your aching core, noticing the wetness before he even pushed the fabric to the side. “Fuck,” he hissed, looking down at his hand. “All of this for me, angel?”
“Just for you, baby.” You whimpered, feeling his finger drift over your covered clit. Although you wished that the barrier did not exist, you would settle for what you could get.
“And what’s got you so worked up? It can’t be me, I’m just getting started.” He teased, pushing the fabric to the side. Before he continued, he waited for you to respond.
“It’s you, Jake.” You assured him, almost sheepish of the fact. He was right, he was just getting started, and you were far too worked up for just a few minutes of foreplay. You couldn’t help it, though; between his sinful touches and your own lack of sexual pleasure over the previous few years, you were ready to come undone before he even touched you.
“Don’t tell me he was that bad of a guy.” Jake let out a murmur of discontent at the thought. “Couldn’t think about anything other than himself, even with a girl as pretty as you in his bed?” Your cheeks burned red at his words, embarrassed at the thought of him being correct. “You know I won’t do that to you, angel.” He promised, finally letting his fingers get a feel for the wetness pooling between your legs. “From here on out, it’s all about you. I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. Does that sound good to you?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding in agreement with his idea. To you, it sounded more than good. It sounded fantastic.
With that, he gathered your arousal on his fingers, slowly trailing it up to your clit. He traced slow circles into the already sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your face so he did not miss a single second of your reaction. Your gaze flickered to his face, taking in all of the details while he did the same for you. His brow was furrowed with concentration, and his lips were still slightly swollen from earlier. The muscles in his jaw were tense, and his eyes told you just how happy he was to be pleasing you.
“You know, I was hoping to get you in my bed, even before you sat in that chair.” He confessed, his voice quiet as a sheepish smile crossed his face.
“Y-yeah?” You asked, the word breathy as you felt the pull of pleasure begin to build in the pit of your stomach. You were intrigued by his statement, so much so that it took your mind away from the burning desire for a moment.
“Yeah,” he affirmed, smirking at your obvious curiosity. “Been thinking about it since the first time I saw you at Josh’s house.” He continued, carefully letting himself move closer. He propped himself up on his forearm, moving his body down towards yours. “You walked out, all dolled up in a pretty little dress. Blue, if I remember right. I wasn’t really looking at the dress.”
He was right, and you could remember the scene just as well as him. It was the only blue dress you owned, and you were on your way to lunch with a potential client, which was why you were so eager to get out the door. He was carrying his guitar, in a cutoff t-shirt and jeans that hugged his legs just right. You were both younger, a little more naive and much more childish. You could remember being stunned by his long brown hair, tousled by the wind, and the sunglasses that sat low on the bridge of his nose. He was beautiful then, just the same as he was now, but you were too afraid to introduce yourself. You managed a small greeting as you passed by him, and spent the whole drive to the restaurant with the picture of him stuck in your head.
“Been waiting that long, Jacob?” You asked, finding a bit of strength to tease him back.
“I wouldn’t say waiting,” he chuckled. “But definitely thinking about it. Prettiest girl to ever walk out of his house, and the prettiest girl to ever step foot in mine.” He continued with the flattery, sliding his middle and index finger to your entrance. Before he continued, he slipped his fingers inside of you. As he began to pump his fingers, he let his thumb drift over your clit. The combination of the two sensations was overwhelming in the best possible way. “If I had it my way, I would have fucked you right there on his porch.” The vulgarity of his words may have been off putting in any other context, but as he said it, your walls fluttered around his fingers and another intense wave of arousal washed over you. “And you would have let me, wouldn’t you?”
You were nearly delirious from the pleasure steadily growing in the pit of your stomach. Your skin was ablaze, the sensation growing stronger with every word he spoke and every touch he gave you. You were willing to tell him anything and everything he wanted to hear as long as it meant he wouldn’t stop.
“God, yes. I would have.” You whined, moving your hips down on his hand as his fingers curled upwards, hitting the sweet spot inside of you.
You weren’t lying, either; had you known at that time he could make you feel so good, you would have let him do whatever he wanted to you. At the sound of your tone filled with need for him, he made it a point to curl his fingers upwards again as he pumped them into you. As his fingertips brushed over the sensitive spot he’d found with ease, a moan filled the air, loud and desperate for him to keep going. “Oh, fuck me.” You groaned, gripping at the sheets below you.
“I intend to, sweetheart.” He replied. Although he knew you did not direct the message to him, he felt the need to interject his own thoughts anyway. As the words left his mouth, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. He couldn’t help himself; he was compelled to kiss you, feeling that he might not be able to survive without the taste of you on his tongue.
His fingers continued to move with intent, eager to pry an orgasm from you. The knot in your belly was tightening further by the second, your skin tingling with pleasure as another moan tore through your chest. He drank in the sound like a man dying of thirst, feeling lucky to be the one experiencing such intimacy with you, even if it was under strange circumstances.
He broke from the kiss as he felt your walls clench around him again, knowing that you were closer to a climax than you would ever admit. He increased the pressure of his thumb, watching you carefully so he did not miss the moment he’d been patiently waiting for.
“That’s it, gorgeous.” He crooned, drunk of the pleasure twisted amongst your features. The praise washed over you like summer rain, settling deep in your stomach and furthering the intensity of the feeling. Your brow was furrowed, your eyes squeezed shut and your lips parted ever so slightly, allowing the most beautiful sounds to cross them. “You’re so fucking hot.” He muttered, propping himself up a bit further for a better view. As much as he wanted to focus on your face, he felt his eyes trail down to his hand, unable to resist the only other sight that could compare to your pretty face.
He sucked his bottom teeth between his lips, biting down on it as he watched his fingers disappear into your cunt.
Your eyes cracked open, desperate to catch a glimpse of him before you descended into the organ that was quickly approaching. When you caught sight of his face, you noticed his eyes were not looking at you like they had been moments before. When you followed his gaze, seeing what he was so fixated on, you felt a whole different type of emotion wash over you. He did not notice your stare, too caught up in the sight to even care about anything else. You were enthralled in him, watching him admire you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.
You bit down on your lip, feeling the warmth in your stomach begin to spread to the rest of your body. You were so close, so ready to give in to the temptation of the feeling, but you weren’t ready for the moment to come to an end.
Within a second, that train of thought was completely disregarded, unimportant and needless.
A low groan, resembling more like a growl sounded through the room, coming from deep in his chest. His eyes turned dark, almost animalistic as he was taken by his desire for you. It was a simple thing, so unimportant in comparison to everything else he was doing to you, but it was everything to you. To know you could drive such a beautiful man to such desperate feelings made you weak, and knowing he was just as taken by you as you were with him sent you over the edge.
The orgasm that took hold was stronger than any you had ever had before. Your entire body was immersed in euphoria, from the very tips of your toes to the muscles in your face. Not one part of you was spared from his wicked power, and as your legs trembled, you came to terms with the fact he was right; heartbroken or not, you were hooked on him. Walking away would be ridiculous, and coming back for more was a given. You could not comprehend the idea of never feeling such a way again, and that made it all the harder to equate your solution for heartbreak to a single night.
“That’s it, angel. Doing so good for me.” His words seemed far away, but the sentiment behind them stuck with you indefinitely. He continued pumping his fingers into you, coaxing you through the climax with his hand and his words. You had never felt more important, more cared about than you did with him, like your enjoyment was the only thing in the world that mattered.
He pulled his fingers out of you, his gaze flickering to your face as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched as he slipped his middle finger past his lips, glistening with your release as it landed on his tongue and his mouth closed around it. As the taste filled his senses, his eyes fluttered closed and a low groan rattled his chest. Your face flushed, your stomach pulling with another bout of pleasure as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. He pulled his finger from his mouth, a slight popping sound filling your ears as the digit slid off his lips. Your eyes squeezed shut, the sight nearly pornographic, and hotter than anything you had ever witnessed before.
“Taste so fucking sweet, baby. Just like I thought you would.” His words were soft, gentle as they filled the air around you. You couldn’t look at him, fearful that if you caught his eye, you would descend into another orgasm without him even touching you at all.
Your knuckles ached as you released your iron grip on the sheets, your body relaxing against the mattress as you came down from the high. Your lungs ached for a full breath of air, and your skin was still tingling with the ghost of pleasure. You looked down at Jake, expecting him to be watching you, waiting for your next move, but he was doing none of those things. He was tossing his belt to the floor, sliding out of his jeans and boxers at once and tossing them in the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You noticed his frantic nature, taking a second to discard your underwear and toss them to the floor as well. He didn’t say a word, making a move to shift downwards on the mattress. He settled between your legs, his hands on your hips as he pulled you down towards his face.
He guided your legs over his shoulders, settling his palms on the tops of your thighs as his lips dusted light kisses over the inside of them. As you both grew more comfortable with the new position, you felt his confidence grow, too. His teeth grazed over the sensitive skin, his tongue following the path to sooth any irritation that might occur. Goosebumps littered your entire body, and every nerve was aflame with desire for the boy who made home between your legs. You watched him, a wondrous sparkle in your eye as you inspected his every move.
Was it normal for someone to be this attentive, to be so concerned with making you feel good? Had you been missing out on such a fantastic experience, wasting your time with someone who was only concerned with himself? Or was Jake just so phenomenal that he made everything a million times more fun?
You did not know, and you did not care; the only important thing to you was him, and he was doing well in making you forget about all of your other worldly troubles. The only thoughts in your mind were pertaining to him and his ability to please you. He was like poison, infiltrating every thought and every emotion, completely taking over without you even thinking twice about it.
His eyes flickered upwards, meeting yours in a silent inquiry. The trail of love bites on your thigh was darkening by the second, and his gaze was burning into you.
“Talk to me, sweetheart.” He ordered, but it was hard to comply to his wishes when it felt like his fingers were searing into your skin.
“I-I just… sex has never been like this before.” You breathed, wondering how he knew something was wrong despite you not saying a word. He was effortlessly in tune with you, feeling every emotion coursing through you as if it were his own. “It’s never been so good, and I’ve never been so… taken care of.” You squeaked out the last few words, embarrassed to admit it to him.
“Oh, don’t tell me that, angel.” He muttered, almost pained at the thought. “If I had known he wasn’t taking care of you, I would have done it myself, a long time ago.” The sincerity in his tone made your head spin, and you were almost regretful that you had been so caught up on a man who wasn’t worth your time, when you could have been spending your time indulging in someone like Jake. “You mean to tell me he wasn’t doing this?” He asked, obviously referring to the act he was about to commit. Your cheeks burned red as you shook your head, silently answering him. “What a fucking idiot.” He muttered, clearly to himself.
Instead of continuing the conversation, he pulled your hips down a little further, letting his actions speak louder than his words. He lowered his head, and you held your breath as his mouth connected with your core. His tongue slowly ran through your folds, starting at your entrance and ending at your clit. He let his focus remain there for a moment, circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves as your hands snaked down your body, tangling themselves in the long locks of his hair. Your felt his tongue dip down to your entrance again, flattening against you as he repeated the same process from earlier, savouring every drop of arousal you had to offer him.
As his tongue reached your clit again, he let out a long hum of satisfaction, like the moment had curbed every craving he had for you in an instant. He pulled away from you for a moment, looking up as he listened closely to your shallow breathing. “I could stay between your legs for the rest of my life, and I’d be fucking happy to do it.” He said, his tone gruff as some residual anger remained in his mind. “Now that I’ve had a taste, I don’t think you’ll be able to get rid of me.”
A whimper fell from your lips, completely uncontrollable as you tried to sear the memory of him between your legs into your brain for eternity. He returned his mouth to you, using the sound as encouragement while he continued on with his work.
Jake was a force you were not familiar with, yet you feared you may never fully grasp his power. You met him at the perfect time, and he offered his services when you needed them most. It was supposed to be a quick fix, a simple solution to stop the pain from tearing you in two, but it quickly grew into something much more than that. Now that you had a chance to experience pleasure at his hands, you weren’t ready to give it up.
Calling Jake a rebound would be ridiculous, because he was the furthest thing from it; in just an hour, he gave more to you than your ex did in years.
Like you said earlier, you were mourning the situation more than you were mourning the person or the relationship itself. The picture of betrayal had been seared in your mind, the self-doubt and self-hatred was abundant, and maybe there was a hint of sadness over the loss of routine, but most of your ailments were not caused by the man himself. With Jake’s help, that became incredibly apparent, and the rest of the sadness and anger seemed to fade away the longer his hands were on you.
“A-ah, fuck.” You hissed, your fingers tightening in his hair as an intense wave of pleasure took hold. “Feels so good, Jake.” Instead of pulling away to respond, he hummed against you, the vibration of the sound furthering the sensation he was already giving you. He wanted to hear how good you were feeling, how good he was making you feel. His ego hadn’t gone away, and your compliments only fed it further. You would be uncomfortable with his cockiness if it were not warranted, but from everything he’d done so far, you understood that he was the only man you had been with who had a right to be so self-assured.
His hands inched up your legs, his grip loosening as he moved his fingers. The light tickle sent a shiver down your spine, and your head was spinning as his grasp slowly settled on your hips. His tongue continued to circle around your clit as he pulled you a little further down on his face. A moan filled the air, much more desperate than the last and the vulgarity immediately categorizing it as pornography. You weren’t sure if such a sound ever left your lips before, but you did not have time to focus on the fact before another one followed up the last.
Your cheeks were burning to the touch, your skin blotchy with redness and glistening with sweat. Your hands were anchored in the roots of his hair, and his tongue was driving you so crazy that you couldn’t help the automatic roll of your hips against his tongue. You were bordering the edge once again, and he seemed to have no intent to slow. One of his hands remained on your hip as the other began to explore, dusting over your stomach with great gentleness. It was a staggering difference between the hand on your hip, which was holding you tightly, as if he was scared he would lose you if he let go.
You were lost in the movements of his tongue, no other thoughts existing within your mind as he continued with his precise actions. The warmth of his mouth was heavenly, the wetness of his tongue making every move all the more remarkable. His hand raised to your chest, finally finding what he had been blindly searching for as his palm cupped your breast. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall back onto the pillow as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Then, his fingers found your nipple, brushing over it and sending jolts of pleasure through you. The sensation combined with the feeling of his tongue was indescribable, addicting, and intoxicating. You felt drunk off of him alone, and you never wanted to sober up.
Just when you thought you were accustom to the multiple sensations all at once, he moved his hand, taking your nipple between his thumb and his forefinger and giving one hard pinch. You let out a gasp, your hips bucking forward into his mouth even further. You could see the shake of his shoulders, showcasing his silent laughter at your reaction.
Even if you wanted to be upset at him, you had no idea how to be. Being angry with Jake seemed like an oxymoron, two things that could not coexist together. If anything, all you wanted to do was praise him for all he had done to help you.
He retracted his hand from your chest, snaking it back down your body. He brought it underneath your leg, bringing his middle and ring finger to your entrance. He pushed them inside of you, with the same curl to his fingers as earlier. The added stimulation was heavenly, and a sure apology for his earlier action. He barely had to pump his fingers at all before your back was arching off the mattress, desperate and shameless for more.
“Jake, baby.” You warned, the words coming out hastily and jumbled together. “M’gonna cum.” You forced the rest of the sentence out, the fire in your belly blazing and threatening to take hold.
He hummed against you again, encouraging you to give in and let go. With one last curl of his fingers paired with the flick of his tongue, your second orgasm took over. Your legs trembled with the intensity of the feeling, your hands holding his hair as if you were afraid of floating away if you let go. The air was filled with obscenities, curses and praise for his work as you descended into the pleasure. If his mouth wasn’t occupied, you knew the praises and encouragement would be the most beautiful thing you had ever heard. He coaxed you through the moment, and your heart rate began to slow and your muscles started to relax from the tension.
Difference was, this time he didn’t slow.
His tongue continued to trace your clit with more intent than before, as if he wanted to see how far he could take it before you gave in. At first, the feeling was uncomfortable, but the idea of stopping was more troublesome than the sting of overstimulation. Instinctively, your body tried to pull away from him, but he used his hand on your hip to hold you in place. Your hands remained in his hair, but did not try and pull his head away from you. You wanted him, and the orgasm he had just given you was inexplicably addictive. You wanted to feel that way again so bad that you could spare the few moments of discomfort in exchange for something so fantastic.
The noises falling from your lips had upped in intensity, and definitely felt more dramatic. You were loud enough that you feared the neighbours might hear you had they stepped outside. He was living in the moment, driven near insane from the desperation in your voice. You looked down, and despite your blurred vision, did the best you could to admire him while you had him like such. His hair was a mess, still knotted around your fingers. The muscles in his back were tight, flexing with every move of his arms. His knuckles were locked in place around your hip, decorating it so nicely that you dreaded the moment he had to let go.
Although beautiful, those were not the things that held your attention. Instead, you were drawn in by the sight of his hips grinding into the mattress below. Pleasing you had worked him up so badly that he himself was aching for relief, unable to control how badly he needed to be touched. The thought was maddening, and the sight drove you over the edge.
Before the overstimulation even began to wear off, your body was forced into another climax that put the previous ones to shame. Your throat was raw from crying his name, your entire body aching from the violence of the feeling. For a moment, you thought you might die at the hands of his sin, but not even that thought could force you away from him. Your lungs burned and your head swam with thoughts of nothing and everything, all at once.
You had never felt such a way in your entire existence, and even when your body began to recover from the effects of his tongue, your mind had fallen far behind. You were barely holding on to reality as he finally withdrew his fingers from you, and your head was completely elsewhere when his head moved away, too.
“Could listen to you scream my name like that every fucking night.” He growled, pressing his wet lips to your thighs so he did not have to give up contact with you entirely. “God you’re a fucking masterpiece. Can’t believe it took so long for me to have you like this.”
He didn’t give you a chance to respond, instead wiping away your release from his chin and moving upwards so he could kiss you. As his hips landed on yours, you felt his cock press against your soaking core, the warmth of bare skin against skin nearly driving you into another orgasm. You were floored at his ability to make you feel good, and amazed that nobody else could make you feel such things. As his tongue glided across yours, you could taste yourself on him, only making the moment even more remarkable. It made him even more addicting, and you were certain you could get used to having him in such a way.
“Just a second, sweetheart.” He slurred, drunk off of you. He pulled away from you, sliding out from between your legs and climbing out of bed. You watched him, breathless and stunned at the picture of him completely naked in front of you. It was the first moment thus far that you had the chance to admire him fully, and you never wanted to stop.
He was painfully hard, the tip of his dick red with irritation from the rough threads of the sheets and glistening with wetness from where he was resting against you. The sight sent you mad, your mouth watering and your need for him growing tenfold. He turned to his bedside table, rummaging around in the drawer in search of a condom. When his fingers landed on the box, stuffed way in the back and hidden under a pile of junk. He looked over at you, smiling shyly as he pulled one from the box.
“Don’t really need these all that often.” He chuckled, an inadvertent way of telling you he was being truthful when he said you were the only one he offered his services to.
“Wait,” you uttered, watching as he raised the package to his mouth to tear it with his teeth. He froze in place, worried that you might have changed your mind.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, ready to discard the foil square in his hand and dress himself if you were uncomfortable. “Do you want to stop, or slow down?”
“No!” You shook your head, feeling bad that the thought even crossed his mind. Instead of letting his anxiety get the best of him, you sat up from your laying position. Carefully, ensuring you had your balance, you shifted so you were resting on your knees, facing him. You looked up, giving a small smile as you beckoned him closer. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but he stepped towards you anyway.
Only when you reached out for him did he understand your intentions. He sucked in a sharp breath, watching as you grabbed his hand and guided him closer to the edge of the bed.
“Tonight is supposed to be about you, angel.” He muttered, a weak protest against your actions.
“I want to, Jake.” You assured him, unable to refute your desire to please him, too. “Please?” You looked up at him, doe-eyed with faux innocence written over your features.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, unable to resist the temptation. “I had no idea you were such a whore.” Even if his words were venomous, his tone did not match. He had such a way with words that even his insults sounded like praise. “Go ahead then, if you want it so fuckin’ bad.”
You debated thanking him for his kindness, but you opted to do it with your actions, instead. You leaned toward, bringing your mouth to him. You parted your lips slightly, letting your tongue glide over the head of his cock. The saltiness of the pre-cum staining his skin lingered on your lips as you took him in your mouth. You bobbed your head down slowly, allowing spit to accumulate on your tongue as you let it glide over the underside of his cock.
As you moved your head down on him, your eyes fluttered closed in concentration. His size was something you weren’t used to, but you had enough confidence to follow through with your efforts. When you felt his tip hit the back of your throat, your eyes watered as you fought back a gag. Desperate to impress, you relaxed your throat as you took him all the way. You felt him twitch in your mouth, letting you know that he was enjoying the moment just as much as you hoped. A string of curses fell from his lips, followed by a long groan. The sound only worsened the persistent ache between your legs, but you carried on, knowing that he would take care of that once you took care of him.
He raised his hand to your hair, gathering it in his hand and holding it away from your face. His eyes were permanently fixated on you, terrified of missing even a second of the view in front of him. You sat there for a moment, allowing yourself to grow comfortable with the feeling before forcing yourself to swallow, despite the momentary discomfort. As your throat constricted around him, he took in a sharp breath, overwhelmed by the sensation. Another groan tried to force it’s way from his chest, but he tried to hold it back, resulting in the sound coming out more similar to a whine.
Even if it was unintentional, it drove you fucking crazy.
You pulled back in one swift motion, inhaling a breath of air as his cock fell from your lips. Trails of spit covered your chin, but it did not phase you. Before he could recover from the loss, your mouth was on him again.
“Ah, fuck, sweetheart.” He growled, his grip in your hair tightening. “Full of fucking surprises tonight.” Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his stare as you bobbed your head down on him. You longed to sear the picture in your mind forever. His hair was disheveled, his jaw-hard set and his eyes crazed as he studied your every move. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and you were certain of that. You felt lucky to be able to please him in any way, and grateful to have caught his eye all those years ago.
As you drew your head upward, you let his cock leave your mouth completely, deciding to give him a show. You circled your tongue around his tip, pursing your lips as you placed them on the side of his dick. You pushed your tongue flat against him, suctioning your cheeks just a bit to add some pressure. As you moved your mouth down his cock, you made sure to keep eye contact with him the whole time. When you reached the base, you slowly ran your tongue over him as you brought your head back to the tip. Without breaking the momentum, you took him back in your mouth and bobbed your head back down until his tip hit the back of your throat again.
You started a steady pace, listening intently to every sound that passed his lips. It wear encouraging, and it was hot. If you had to say, it was the most attractive thing you had ever heard. As you felt him slide down your throat again, you let out a moan. The vibration amplified the already intense feeling, causing his head to fall back on his shoulders as he hissed out a long string of curses. You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, desperate for a release but unwilling to give in to it just yet.
In truth, you would not have minded. He had been beyond generous already, and to do him a kindness was the only way you thought fitting to repay him. Even if you would miss out on fucking him, you were happy to be used by him in any way.
As you continued at the same pace, you could feel him begin to lose himself to the pleasure. As your head came down on him, his hips involuntarily moved too meet with you. The constant pressure in the back of your throat was making it difficult to keep calm, but you persevered until he pulled away first. A particularly sharp thrust of his hips sent you over the edge, and the gag you tried so hard to stop finally forced its way out. Your throat constricted around him again and your eyes welled with tears. Hastily, he pulled away from you, his chest heaving as his concerned eyes looked over your face.
“M’sorry, angel. You okay?” He asked, crouching down so he was eye level with you.
“Yeah, I’m good, it’s okay.” You promised, nodding you head. He raised his hand to your cheek, swiping away tears that had fallen from your eyes.
“We can take a break if you need it,” he assured you, holding your gaze. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if I’m going too fast or if it’s too much.”
“I’m okay, I promise.” You gave him a soft smile, well recovered from the moment of slight tension. He watched you for a moment longer, wanting to be certain. When he realized you weren’t going to change your mind, he leaned forward and pulled you into a kiss. The softness of the action was all you needed to feel better again. “Can you fuck me? Please?” You muttered the words against his lips, unable to wait until he was finished to ask the question.
“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?” He asked, intrigued by your excitement.
“Yes, please.” You breathed, needing it like you needed air. The desire you had for him was nearly debilitating, and since he’d stopped touching you, there was no relief for the grating need.
“Turn around for me, Angel.” He said, rising to his feet. He was in no position to deny you anything, because he wanted it just as bad.
You did as he asked, noticing he was reaching for the foil wrapper on the nightstand again. You couldn’t comprehend the grief that washed over you as you saw it, and the words rushed out faster than you could stop them.
“I’m on the pill,” you said, hearing him freeze in place. “I’m clean, too.” You were telling the truth, because before him, unprotected sex wasn’t even a thought in your mind. Whatever he had done to you that night seemed to permanently alter your mind, and the simple thought of not having him completely was sickening.
“Me too.” He hummed, almost relieved that you told him. He tossed the condom back on the table, the dull clatter of the impact prompted a smile on your face.
You backed up closer to him, your knees resting near the edge of the mattress and your feet dangling off the edge. He stepped towards you, his hands reaching for your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. His touch drifted over your ass, appreciating you while he had you in such a way.
“You have no fucking idea how good you look like this.” He praised your beauty, his voice deep and laced with desire. One of his hand fell from your hip, and seconds later, you felt his cock rest against your cunt. Slowly, he ran the tip through the wetness that was worsening by the second. “You want it, sweetheart?” The husky tone settled deep in your bones as you dropped to your forearms, bringing your top half lower to the mattress. You pushed your hips back towards him, adding a little more pressure to your clit, which he was resting against.
“So bad, Jake.” You pleaded, looking back over your shoulder at him.
“What was that, Angel?” He asked, sliding himself back down to your entrance. “Couldn’t quite hear you.” There was a smirk on his lips, cute enough to help him get away with the teasing, but irritating enough to bother you.
“Please, baby.” You whined, trying again.
“Please what?” He pressed further, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly. The miniscule change was agonizing, but it still made your head spin. “I want to hear how bad you want me, beautiful.”
“Please fuck me, Jake.” You finished your broken sentence, your tone stronger than it had been all night. “I need to feel you, please.” With that, you pushed your hips back again, testing your limits.
Unlucky for you, at the same time, he thrusted forward with force, causing the impact to be so much more intense.
“A-ah, fuck!” You yelped, the size of him something brand new to you. The way he filled you was enough to bring you to your knees, but the painful sensation of his cock hitting your cervix amplified the pleasure even further.
“There you go, baby.” He crooned, completely disregarding your response as he drew his hips back and slammed back into you with the same energy. “How does that feel?” The slight sneer in his tone was aggravating, but you had to admit that it looked really good on him. The sudden change in attitude made you realize that what had come before that moment was not typical for Jake. He was snarky, arrogant, and he liked to be in charge. You could tell by his fingers bruising your hips and his tone talking down to you.
Although you thoroughly enjoyed the time you already spent with Jake, it almost made you sad when you realized what exactly you missed out on.
As you were stuck on the thought, you felt a sharp sting across your ass. The sensation on your skin combined with the pleasure of him inside of you, making you quiver under the touch. “Answer me when I fucking speak.” He barked, letting his fingers gently caressed the reddening skin where his hand made contact. You weren’t sure if it was purposeful or absentminded, but the sweet touch after the harsh words felt good, reassuring that he was only putting on an act.
Then, you decided if he wanted to push you, you could do the same to him. The worst that could happen was a punishment, and the idea of punishment at Jake’s hands was nothing but thrilling.
“Feels so good, sir.” You exaggerated your tone in hopes of getting under his skin, but the term of endearment seemed to short circuit his brain. His hips stuttered and his hands tightened their grip.
“Such a fucking whore,” he spat, his words quiet as he regained his composure. Even if his words were harsh, you could tell by his voice alone how much he enjoyed your attitude. “I love it.” He muttered the words to himself, but you heard it despite his efforts to keep it to himself. He felt your walls flutter around him, drawing him in further and deeper, encouraging his antics even further.
One of his hands raised to your hair, gathering it in his fist and knotting it around his hand. He tightened his hold, pulling your head back ever so slightly as his hips continued at the same, bruising pace. You arched your back even further, your chest nearly brushing against the mattress now as your ass raised to meet his hips.
“That’s my girl,” he hummed, holding your hips as he upped the strength in which he was thrusting into you. “Take it so fucking good.”
The knot in your belly was tightening further by the second, threatening to snap with every move. You were crying his name, praising him for his hard work as he pushed you closer to a climax. You were sure his bedroom would never recover from the pornographic display the two of you found yourselves in, and the thought served as a comfort. You wanted him to think about you every time his bedroom door closed, remembering how you looked in his bed as he fucked you from behind. You wanted him to picture the way your ass met his hips every time he closed his eyes, and you never wanted him to forget the feeling of you wrapped around him.
Although he intended to solve your problems, you wanted to create a new, constant one for him; one that plagued him every night and haunting him during the day. You wanted Jake to succumb to the need of you, and you wanted your number to be a constant call in his phone, begging you to come over so he could curb the urge for a little while. You wanted to infiltrate every thought that crossed his mind, because you could not stand the idea of him giving this to anyone else.
“You want to cum already?” He asked, recognizing the tremble of your legs and the desperation of your high-pitched moans. “So fucking needy you can’t even enjoy it for a while?” He chastised you, but both of you knew there was zero malice behind his behavior. He was living for the way you moved against him, surviving off the sound of your pleasure. He was thrilled to drive you to such a state so easily, and he would give you whatever you wanted, so long as you asked nicely.
“Please, sir. I want it so bad. I need it.” You stressed the importance of the topic, feeling the burn begin to overtake your entire body. The urge was impossible to stave off, and you knew there was no use in trying. After all he’d done to you so far, you were long past self-control.
“Fine, but you better not hold back. I want to hear every one of those filthy fucking noises.” He growled, pulling your head back with a little bit of force. “Put on a good show, sweetheart, or I might not be so nice next time.” He warned, holding your head in place with one hand and your hip with his other. He pulled you back on him, making the impact even more powerful. The painful pleasure pulsed through your entire body, so intense that you could feel it behind your eyes. With every thrust of his hips, you grew closer to the release you so desperately needed.
In exchange for him giving you what you needed, you gave him exactly what he asked for.
“Oh, god, Jake.” You whined, upping the dramatics for the sake of his request. “You feel so good, baby. Please don’t stop.” You pleaded, feeling your head spin with the threat of your climax. You could hear his shaky breaths, the sound of your words hitting him harder than he anticipated. His hips remained steady, though, never faltering as he continued on exactly as you asked him to.
“Come on, angel.” He huffed, looking down at the curve of your ass, watching himself as he fucked into you. The permissive statement sent you spiralling, pushing you over the edge with little thought.
“Fuck, Jake.” You groaned, feeling your stomach burn with pleasure. Your hands were balled into fists, knuckles white as you gripped the sheets. Your arms and legs felt like they would give out from under you as they trembled. Jake seemed to notice the same thing, and the hand holding your hip slipped under you, holding you up so you did not have to worry about anything other than feeling good.
“That’s it, baby. That’s my girl.” He crooned, never letting up on his pace as he continued to fuck you through the climax. Even as you came down, your body did not relax. Your skin was ablaze and your forehead was glistening with sweat. You were tired, and the feeling of him inside of you became less pleasant and more intense as he continued to thrust into you. Your noises became less angelic and more desperate, as if they served as a warning for him to slow down. Overstimulation was threatening your exhausted mind, driving you closer to insanity by the second as the burn of irritation began to spread.
“Jake,” You wheezed his name out, trying to bargain with him as he increased the speed of his hips. “Jake, please.” You pleaded, now for an entirely different reason.
“What, you wanted it so bad and now you can’t take it?” He growled, his hips still moving at a relentless pace. “You can take it sweetheart, I know you can. Be good for me, baby. Just a little longer.”
“I don’t know if I can.” You cried, your throat raw from the desperation of your moans. Both of you knew he would stop if you really needed it, but he would be damned if he gave up before you truly needed him to.
“You can, beautiful. Being so good for me.” He rushed out, clearly growing close to his own climax. “Don’t you love being a good girl for me?” He asked, easing up on you ever so slightly.
“I do,” you whimpered, feeling his hand in your hair push your head towards the mattress. The strength of his thrusts had lessened, and the overwhelming sensation started to become pleasurable again. “I love it.”
“I know you do, sweetheart.” He whispered, desperation beginning to set in for him, too. He loosened his hold around your hips, knowing you were much steadier, now. He moved his hand between your legs, his middle finger finding your clit with ease. “Just a little while longer, baby. I’m not done with you yet.”
“Oh, fuck.” You groaned, his words giving you the strength to keep going. You clenched around him, amplifying the sensation for both of you as his finger continued to trace around your clit.
“So fucking tight.” He praised, saying it mostly to himself. “Give me one more angel. I know you have it in you.” He was right, the orgasm was already building at a rapid pace. You could feel the tingle of euphoria in the tips of your fingers and toes. You were too strung out on him to answer, but he knew that you would give him what he wanted.
Nobody in their right mind would ever deny Jake anything he asked for, anyway.
“Jake, fuck, m’gonna cum.” You rushed out, the urgency something you had never experienced before in your life. He let out a low chuckle at your state despite feeling the same desperation.
“That’s my girl.” He said again, the statement still hitting as hard as it did the first time he said it. With one last thrust of his hips, you came undone, all of the pleasure from the night coming to one final climax.
Your mind was blank, no thoughts or worries left to bother you. You wanted to scream his name, but nothing was coming out. Your chest ached and your lungs were in dire need of air, but you could not even seem to do something as simple as breathing. Jakes hand pushed your head further into the mattress, your cheek pressed against the soft fabric of the sheets as he started to lose his composure, too. His movements were sloppy, his hips stuttering every time he fucked into you. The finger that was once tracing perfect circles on your clit seemed to forget how to do so, and he had his turn to utter profanities that only solidified the moment in your minds forever.
His grip on your hair loosened as he reached his peak, spilling his release inside you as his hips began to slow. He used his arm to pull you back on him one last time, holding you there while he recovered from the intensity of the moment. He let out a long breath, looking down once more where his hips rested against yours. He drew back, slowly thrusting forward a few more times as he fucked his release back into you. A low growl sounded from his chest, the sight alone nearly working him up all over again.
“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked, his loving and catering tone returning as he withdrew from you completely.
“Yeah, m’okay.” You nodded, feeling the pressure in your skull lessen as he loosened his hold on your hair. “Fantastic, actually.”
“Yeah?” He grinned, excited at the idea. “You feel better?”
“Jake, you have no idea.” You breathed, slowly moving from your position. You were sore, tired, but you felt better than you ever had. “I don’t think I’ve ever… no, I’ve never had sex like that.” You confessed, rolling on to your back to let your body rest for a moment.
“I’m glad I could help, beautiful.” He said, laying down beside you. “Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll clean it up later.” He said, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, his skin warm and soothing as the sound of his heartbeat thudded in your ears.
“I should probably call a cab, get back to Josh’s place before the bar rush starts.” You sighed, saddened by the thought alone. You wished to stay wrapped up in Jake’s arms for the rest of the night, even if you knew you shouldn’t. You were going through a breakup, and dating was not on the table (or shouldn’t be, at least), but there was something special about Jake, something so different that it made it impossible to want to walk away from him.
“Are you crazy?” He scoffed, his tone light as he looked down at you.
“What?” You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head up as you awaited an answer.
“Like I’d ever make you take a cab.” He rolled his eyes. “But, you’re not going back to Josh’s place, sweetheart.”
“What if I want to?” You shot back.
“Do you?” He asked, seemingly staring into your soul. You bit the inside of your lip, fighting back a smile as you gave a small shake of your head. “Didn’t think so. I’ll just tell him we drank a little too much and you crashed in the spare room.” Your stomach sank at the thought of a spare room, but he could see it in your eyes before you had the chance to address it. “You’re not actually staying in the spare room, gorgeous.”
“Okay, good.” You breathed, chuckling at your own stupidity. “‘Cause I’d much rather stay here, with you.”
“That was never even a question.” He assured you, letting his fingers gently trail over your back. The light tickle was addicting, comforting and soft. It was exactly what you needed after such a high energy evening. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.” He said the second part, quieter this time, but you could still sense the truth behind his words.
“No?” You giggled, smiling up at his pretty face.
“Mmm,” he hummed to himself, the sound vibrating his chest. He seemed like he was thinking about all of the possibilities the night held, everything he could do with you (or to you, for that matter), and more importantly, what positions he could put you in. “No, definitely not.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” You let out a sigh of content, already dreaming of the same things. A silence fell between you for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. With Jake, it never was. After a while, you felt the urge to speak again, to show your gratitude for his kindness. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.” You whispered. “It really helped.” His lips quirked into a smile as he pulled you closer to him. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.
“I’m glad I could help, sweetheart.” He muttered, his lips still pressed against your hair. “And please, if you ever need help forgetting about anything at all, just give me a call. I’d love to help you out.”
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joshym · 1 month ago
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Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 6 (Part 1 of 2)
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader
Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.
You thought you were prepared for everything.
A new town, a new school, a new way of life,
but what you were not prepared for…
was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.
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Word Count: 41.1k+ (deepest apologies)
Le Morte d'Arthur Masterlist, Series Playlist
Warnings: please proceed with caution if you find any of the following to be triggering. MDNI 18+ ONLY. I do want to preface by saying there is a potentially very triggering moment of shame over eating, including thoughts/trying to v*mit. PLEASE, as I stated before, proceed with caution. struggles with body dysmorphia/eating (including food restriction), strong feelings of inadequacy, heavy emotions/ talks of an absent parent, *extremely* sick & terminally-ill parent, anxiety/stress/depression, a few sexual *feelings*, recollections of sexual encounters, sensual scenes shown on film, brief tornado encounter
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a/n: as i said in my warnings, there are some very heavy depictions of what it means to have an ED. i don't want to ignore these moments, as they are so very real. i felt it was only right to include an incredibly vulnerable moment. please, if you're struggling, don't be afraid to seek help. you are always worth it. i love you guys, & i hope you enjoy this chapter. (so far🤭)
also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor & my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.
Cherry Tree, Oklahoma: A year and a half ago.  
You felt it the moment you woke up. 
The air was different – thick. Thick and melancholy. You didn’t know what it was that had you feeling that way. Intuition? A bad dream that you didn’t remember anything from, only the feelings it left behind? It worsened as you left your room – walking to the kitchen left you breathless. Though, you still didn’t know why.
When you peered out of the living room window, the sky was dark gray, nearly black. You then chalked up the strange feeling to the weather. A change in the barometric pressure, an incoming storm – a big storm, one that would cause destruction everywhere it hovered over. That had to be it. It was Oklahoma, afterall. The most unpredictable, catastrophic weather is born there. It always left you anxiety ridden, sure. But, it was nothing out of the ordinary. 
She was sitting in the recliner next to the front door. A blank, distant look about her eyes. She didn’t tell you good morning, she didn’t even look at you. Though she’s never been the one to offer you a cheerful good morning, you could tell there was something more behind her silence. 
You wondered if her mind was just preoccupied with the skies' indication of bad weather. You began asking her if she’d gotten everything prepared yet – the generator, flashlights, candles, a pair of shoes for everyone. But as you were speaking to her, her distant look morphed into one of distress. She didn’t answer a single question, only choking back the sobs that overcame her, tears falling down her pale face. “Mom? Are you oka–,” 
You were cut off by her pointing a single, trembling finger towards the kitchen. That was when it finally hit you. 
He was usually the first one up. He’d start breakfast each morning before the sun rose. The smell would always infiltrate your room, always waking you earlier than you’d like. But on this particular day, you slept in a little later than usual. You slept in because there was no smell of maple syrup and eggs to wake you. 
That thick, dark feeling that you woke up with quickly turned to pure concern. Where was he? 
As though an invisible string were tugging at your legs, they slowly yet reluctantly carried you to the kitchen. Upon the first glance, everything looked normal. Everything, except…
It only took you a moment to notice the note on the fridge. The bright, yellow sticky note stood out like a sore thumb adhered to the flat-white freezer door.
“I’m so sorry, baby girl- Daddy”
The words didn’t register right away. You had to read them over and over again before it finally dawned on you; you didn’t see his truck in the driveway when you looked through the window. Only the oil stains it left on the concrete. He was gone. And you knew he wasn’t just gone for the morning, or for the day. He was gone for good. There wasn’t a single thing you could do about it. He made the choice to live his life without you. Given the fact that you, his only daughter, wasn’t enough to convince him to stay, you knew you couldn’t do anything.
A clap of thunder roared around your house, shaking the very foundation it stood on. The bones of the home creaked and screamed with the pressure of the wind while plates and cups in the cabinets rattled. A few photos hanging on the walls fell to the floor, their glass shattering. Then the lights flickered for a moment before they went out completely, leaving the house as dark as it was outside. The sirens began their cry. The rain blowing sideways pushed its way through every window sill in the kitchen, tiny droplets splattering your face. But you kept still. You let it happen; in fact, you welcomed it. You just stood in the kitchen while your mom ran to shelter, keeping your feet planted where they were. You didn’t want to run, didn’t see the point. 
The storm came at the perfect moment; it was the physical one that mimicked the one inside of your head. The emotions that couldn’t be released from your body were blowing all around you and your old home.  After only a few minutes, (though it truly felt like an eternity) the skies calmed. The rain let up, the wind held still.  And it was quiet. Eerily. 
The sudden quiet meant you then had to confront the storm in your mind. The relentless destruction of your thoughts created a cyclone of torment within you. Your whole world changed in that single moment. The sole provider of your home left, leaving you, the full time college student working a full time job, to take his place. You could already feel the weight of your new responsibilities, of the new heaviness placed on your tense shoulders. 
And you felt grief. Grief over losing someone who chose to leave. 
How do you grieve someone who’s still alive? Someone who decided it was best to live the rest of their days without you? Your dad?
Cherry Tree faced an EF-2 that day. They said the winds exceeded one hundred miles per hour, leaving damage and destruction to most of the tiny town. Your home sustained minor damage – a few missing shingles, ripped up siding, the typical wreckage Oklahoma storms leave behind. 
Your dad was always there to fix those things. But after that storm, it was up to you to fix them. And that’s exactly how you spent the two weeks that followed – fixing the things that needed fixing. The things you could fix, at least. The physical ones.
All on your own, you fixed the broken seals of the windows, replaced the missing shutters, cleaned up the yard the best you could. That storm forced you to face your new reality head on. You were now working two full time jobs; one during the day at the only restaurant in town, and one at Cherry Tree Grocery for the late shift. And then, there was your mom. 
She’d only gotten sick a few months before he left. You hadn’t even fully come to terms with her prognosis yet, and you were thrown into being her caregiver basically overnight. All the things he had been doing for her, you had to learn to do. You essentially had to take a crash course in at-home-nursing. You learned far more about healthcare than you ever thought you’d have to, but you knew you had to do it. You managed all of that while taking classes online, and busting your ass to keep your grades up so you could move away. What had once been a dream to move away on your own, had quickly become getting you and your mom out of there as soon as you could.
You fought hard against the urge to reach out to him in the first weeks after he left. All you wanted was an answer to your one and only question – why? Why would he leave you with so much to worry about, knowing how badly you wanted to get the hell away from Oklahoma? During that time, you became more and more resentful towards him, more angry over the decision he made. So, the urge dwindled over time. It was after the one month mark of him being gone that you tossed your necklace in the trash can, ridding yourself of it – and him – once and for all. 
But the letter he gave you along with the necklace…you just couldn’t let it go. You decided to let it be the last remaining piece of your relationship with him. It was painful as fuck to keep it, but you knew it’d be even more painful to not have it. (And yet, you somehow managed to lose it during the move. And, the necklace magically reappeared in your jewelry box, not long after you knew you tossed it. Still makes no sense. But you’re glad you have it, even if how you have doesn’t quite add up.)
There is a part of you that is grateful he left, and it’s the part of you that couldn’t stand living in Cherry Tree any longer. His departure only made the desire of realizing your dream of attending the U of M that much stronger. A new beginning was the best option for you and your mom. In fact, she pretty much insisted on it. She didn’t want to be there any more than you did once he left. The acceptance letter symbolized the beginning you desperately needed. The only loose end that needed tying was the house, and once the burden of that was out from under your feet, you left. 
Your Firebird was your only means of getting the two of you there, so any money that you could spare from your savings was spent making sure the clunker would make the journey. Before then, you dad took care of your car troubles. Even promised you he’d help you get a new one before you left home. When he wasn’t there to make that happen, you had to make the best of what you had. The day you packed up the last of your things, the air felt different again – lighter, but still heavy with memories. You drove out of Cherry Tree with a mix of relief and sorrow clinging to you, the dusty Oklahoma roads fading in the rearview mirror as you headed north to your new home.
The storm that ripped through the town that day certainly left its mark; it transformed the tiny community, it transformed you. But it wasn’t just the physical destruction that changed the course of your life. The storm only made you realize that there was nothing left for you in Cherry Tree. 
The storm was your dad, creating an unexpected upheaval in your life. It all happened so quickly, so unpredictably. There was no siren to warn you, no safe place in which you could take shelter until things went back to normal. He left his mark that day, much like the storm. Only, for you, it left a scar far deeper than any natural disaster could ever reach. 
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Present Day
His desperate attempts at explaining – over explaining – are useless. Every word that leaves his lips feels like a distant echo to you, as though he’s already miles away. It’s like you’re standing in a vacant tunnel, hearing the whispers of those on the outside. You can hear that he’s speaking, but your mind can’t make out the words. 
But you’re not in a tunnel; you’re in Jake's room. And he’s standing before you, pleading with you to hear his words. 
He’s already a memory to you. A memory – just like your father. 
How do you grieve someone who’s still alive? 
You hear his every footstep against the carpeted floor behind you as you’re walking around to gather your things, hastily putting on your sweatpants and hoodie that you packed with you last night. You hesitate as you reach for the satin dress he bought you, the one you wore last night, the beautiful gift he wanted you to have for your date…
The hesitation wanes, and you quickly shove it in your canvas bag so as to not have to think about it any longer. 
“I need you to listen to me.” You feel his hands grip at your shoulders, stopping you before you can begin your final walk out of his bedroom. His touch forces you to make out his words this time, when before they were mere mumbles in your head while you placed your focus on getting the fuck out of here.  
“I need to go home, Jake.” The words are monotone as you say them, void of the storm whirling inside your mind. You keep your back to him, eyes fixed on your bare feet. You forgot to bring another pair of shoes, and you’ll be goddamned if you walk out of here with your heels on from last night. 
Nope. Barefoot it is. 
“Can I please take yo –,” Before he can finish his question, you quickly turn on your heel, shrugging his hands off your body as you face him. The now dried tears on your cheeks are met with fresh ones falling from your eyes, tears that refuse to be held back, no matter how badly you don’t want to show your hurt. 
“NO, Jake!” His eyes widen, his eyebrows furrowed and his bottom jaw becomes slack. You didn’t mean to yell. You didn’t want to yell, at least not as loudly as you did. It just…happened. It was pent up rage, derived from pain and a moment that feels all too familiar, triggering emotions you’ve not allowed yourself to feel. 
“I’m sorry, I just–” The tears are now a flood crashing in waves against your red cheeks. You bring your hands, covered by the sleeves of your oversized hoodie, up to your face, concealing and muffling the pain that’s surfaced. 
No. You’re not sorry. You shouldn’t be sorry for feeling and expressing what you’re feeling. You’ve done that all your fucking life. He knows that. And he knows how fucking hard this is for you. He doesn’t say anything more, only pulling you in and holding you close, letting you sob into his chest. His scent instantly works to calm you, the scent of last night mixed with leftover hints of his cologne. But feeling his comfort only makes the pain hurt worse. It quickly dawns on you that you won’t have this for much longer, and you pull yourself away from him, wiping your face with your now tear-soaked sleeves. “I don’t want you to take me home,” you snap, your voice cracked and wet from your tears. You can’t avoid eye contact, though it’s not for lack of trying. You just can’t keep yourself from looking into his eyes, those sweet, honey whiskey eyes that drew you in the moment you saw them hiding behind his black frames. 
And you’ve seen these eyes before. They’re angry, but they’re a sad angry. Despondent, heavy with heated sorrow. The last time you saw these eyes was in this very room, practically in the very same spot you’re in right now. 
The last time you saw them like this served as the beginning for what you have–had–with Jake. Now, they represent the ending. 
Those sad, fuming eyes hold yours only a moment longer, then flick downward as he takes a long breath to speak “How do you suppose you’ll be getting home if you don’t want me to take you?” His tone is both quiet and sharp, monotone. And he knows what you’re thinking before you even fully know. 
There’s only one person you should turn to right now. And it’s going to piss Jake off. But you don’t care. Not right now. 
You choose to not answer his question, knowing that there’s no real point in doing so. The silence laying between you two is broken by the squeaky hinges of his bedroom door when you turn around and open it. You step one foot through the threshold, but there’s one thing stopping you. “I want my book, Jake,” you mutter, your back turned to him as you’re staring down the long hallway. The words almost hurt coming out. They hurt from the tightness in your throat at uttering them, and they hurt because that book that once represented the beginning of so much, feels like it now represents the end all at once. 
Poetic. Fucking. Irony. Your entire goddamned life is full of it. 
“What book, y/n?” 
“Le Morte d’Arthur. I need it back.” 
He breathes an elongated sigh when you hear his feet padding towards the bed where the book still sits. You peer over your shoulder, using your peripheral to watch him pick up the book, turning a few of the yellowed pages for a moment before quickly slamming the cover shut. His feet shuffle toward you once more, carefully nudging your elbow with the physical emblem of the last few months of your life. “Here,” he spits, his touch  far gentler than his tone that sends a jolt through your spine. “Guess I forgot about it.”
Clearly not, considering that’s where I found everything. 
Without a word, you reach your other hand over your body, taking the book from him and letting your feet guide you the fuck out of his room. And where they’re taking you next is what you’re sure will set Jake off indefinitely. Keeping your composure right now is fucking hard. But you have to do it as you’re quickly trudging down the hallway, eyeing the stairs that lead to his room. It’s not until you’re halfway up the steps that you notice Jake at the end of the hall, watching you with hard eyes as you take the last few steps to the loft. You reach Josh’s door first, and for a brief moment, you contemplate knocking on it instead, knowing this choice would avoid upsetting Jake any further. 
But you only think about it for a second before you decide to keep walking a few steps further, placing yourself in front of Sam’s closed door. You lift your hand to knock, but you’re hesitant as you remember the conversation you had with Jake about Sam. The one where you promised him nothing had happened with Sam, when he promised you that nothing happened between him and Stacy. The familiar sense of guilt over everything crashes over you. But when you look at the book held tight in your hands, and when you peek over your shoulder to the balcony, seeing that Jake’s body slumped and leaning against the wall, watching your every move, your decision is made. 
“S-Sam?” You stutter with a light tap of your fist to the wood, timid and nerves billowing to the surface. A moment passes, and he hasn’t answered the door just yet. Before you choose to knock once more, you look over your shoulder to where Jake was, noticing that he’s no longer there. And it’s then that you hear a loud slam coming from the downstairs hallway. 
Sadness weighs in the pit of your tummy at his absence, an absence that you’ll have to start getting used to. You then turn your focus back to Sam’s door, and just as you’re about to knock, the knob begins turning from the other side. He opens it only a little, peeking through the small crack he’s made. His tired eyes widen when they realize it’s you beyond the door. 
“Y/n? Hey, what are–” 
The look about your face must say more than any words you could utter, because he stops himself from speaking any further, opening the door all the way and inviting you inside. “I just–,” You don’t step in through the open door all the way, only about an inch or so, keeping your bare feet planted on the spot where the hallway meets the carpeted floor of his room. “Do you think you can take me home?” Your voice is shaking far more than you like, and it’s all you can do to keep from crying. His eyebrows scrunch in the middle, so very annoyingly similar to the way Jake’s do, before he reaches over to grab his coat and keys hanging from the hook screwed into the wall. He silently throws his coat over his shoulders, his eyes scanning over your body, trailing down to your exposed feet. His tongue peeks from the corner of his slightly parted lips, though he’s deep in contemplation. Brushing the messy hairs away from his face, his features soften, as though he’s come to the conclusion of whatever he’s thinking. He quickly turns around to go deeper into his room, rummaging through his closet until he finds a pair of white fluffy slippers, donned with a single yellow smiley face on the tops of them. 
He walks back toward you, holding the slippers between your bodies as he gets closer. “Too cold to be barefoot,” he says, keeping still until you take the warm footwear from his hands. Setting them on the floor, you slide into them, one foot at a time. They’re much too big for your feet, but they’ll certainly do the job of keeping them warm. “Wanna tell me about it?” He asks as he leads you down the stairs, cupping your elbow should your feet slip out from the oversized slippers. You’re a bit too full of shame to talk about it, though you’re sure he already knows. How could he not be aware of Jake leaving? Certainly he can put two and two together. He notes your silence, opting to keep silent himself as your feet leave the last step. He walks ahead of you to the front door, unlocking it and holding it open for you as you make your way through the living room. 
“Thanks,” you mumble as you walk through the front door, not bothering to look back when you take a final step out of the apartment. The air is bitter this morning, biting at the little bits of uncovered skin the moment you’re exposed to it. Your body instantly begins trembling with cold shivers from the elements. The tears that are begging to fall from your eyes will certainly turn to ice sickles the moment they do. 
“C’mon,” Sam says, quickly locking the door before coming up behind you and placing his warm hands on your shoulders as you walk to his car. This all feels wrong. It feels so wrong. You’re grateful to Sam, but you’d be kidding yourself if you tried to say you’re glad he’s with you instead of Jake. 
In one wrong move, you turn your head back to the apartment, your eyes instantly finding the window to Jake’s room. The blinds are drawn, so you can’t see him. But you know he’s watching.  Part of you is glad he is. But the other part of you, the much bigger part, feels like pure shit over it. 
Just as you reach Sam’s bright orange VW Bug, his arm extended towards the passenger door, you turn around to face him, stopping him with a grip on his forearm. Those tears that have threatened to fall since you walked outside are now leaking from your ducts as you face Jake’s window. 
What you truly want to do is forego this whole thing and run back inside, find Jake’s embrace once more. But, you know better than to act on your impulse. And when you look into Sam’s eyes, you’re reminded of a time when he was the one who showed you the genuinity you were lacking from his brother when you first moved here. 
There’s another impulse that’s weighing on you, and this is one you feel is the better option given the circumstances. And as though Sam can read the thoughts running through your mind, he wraps his arms around you, holding you as close to his body as he can. Your sobs are let out into his chest while his lips find the top of your head, a sweet gesture to remind you that you’re safe in doing this. Not that you had any reason to not believe that, but you’ve been worried Sam may never view you the same ever again after everything. So, needless to say, the reassurance is nice, and very much needed. “Let’s get you home,” he mumbles into your hair, thumbs tracing gentle circles at your sides. 
Just as you start to pull away, his hand lingers on your back, warm and steady against you. You look up at him, catching a soft, understanding smile that speaks of adoration for you, despite everything.  “Thank you, Sam,” you whisper, your tear-soaked voice hardly audible over the morning breeze. 
He nods, brushing a few loose hairs that have fallen from his ponytail out of his face as he opens the door for you. As you settle into the passenger's seat, there’s a strange feeling weighing on you – a mix of nostalgia, a sense of relief. Perhaps this is truly where you’re meant to be. At least this morning. 
But with a final glance at Jake’s window as the old Bugs engine begins humming, that mixture of complicated feelings turns into one single, heavy emotion; regret. 
⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎
Jake’s point of view;
I waited far too long. 
I had every intention of telling her—the plan was already in place. 
All I needed was to wait for the perfect moment to ask her to come with me. I knew she wouldn’t say yes right away, so I had to take the time to craft the right words, to convey the way her very essence softened my hardened heart. 
Goddammit. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of what has transpired with her over the last few months was meant to happen. 
But fate would have it otherwise. And I knew mine was sealed when she chose the seat next to mine on the first day of class. I thought I’d never have to see her bewitching face again after I so callously bumped into her in the hallway. But when that very same, beautiful stranger walked in late through the doors of Movack’s lecture hall, I knew I had to take every measure possible to fend off any infatuations that I felt could arise. 
But, as though it were predestined, we were paired on a project she was just as passionate about—if not more—than I was. 
I suppose I thought the film would be the best way to keep my distance from her while also keeping true to our commitments to the project. I surmised the addition of my family would keep us from having to be alone, having any real conversations to get to know one another. 
I didn’t want to get to know her. Not because of her, because of me. I gathered immediately that she was far too wonderful for the likes of me, far too easy to fall for. Her beauty and complexity, the most exquisite and intrusive storm to my hardened heart. 
She truly was too good for me… still is; utter perfection encompassed in the ethos of her femininity. 
That fact was all but confirmed on that first day of class. When she checked my ego over a question I should’ve known the answer to, I knew I was utterly fucked. Intelligent, full of the wit necessary to challenge me. I was a fucking dick to her from the outset. But I had to keep my own feelings in balance. 
Jesus — who the fuck am I kidding? 
I didn’t ask her to help with the film to keep her away—I wanted her to play opposite me. I wanted her to play my fucking wife. I wanted the chance to act on the feelings that were already amassed, without the risk of her thinking they were anything more than for the sake of the film.
But Josh fucked it all up for me. The script wasn’t what we agreed on, no matter how much he’s fought me on that fact. His idea to shift the focus on infidelity, specifically her infidelity with fucking Lancelot was unadulterated bullshit. And when I had to watch her share so many scenes with Sam, scenes that should’ve been with me, the fire it ignited under my crawling skin told me that my attempts at keeping my composure about her were failing. Miserably failing. 
Stacy was my escape. She had wanted me for years, and I knew she would be the perfect distraction from my growing feelings for Y/n — and from the agony of watching my brother touch her in ways I could only dream of.
But, fate wouldn’t hear of it. It didn’t fucking work. Stacy doesn’t hold a candle to Y/n; she’s nothing more than a flicker next to Y/n’s radiance. Wasting my energy with someone as dull-witted and mindless as Stacy only made me yearn for Y/n all the more. 
Y/n’s mystique, her grace, the very aura she strides with…she’s the most captivating woman I’ve ever set my eyes upon. It took only a few weeks to memorize every minute detail of her face. Her sweet nose that crinkles when she laughs, her glittering eyes that hold the weight of a thousand beautiful lifetimes, her eyelashes that are as dark and full as a ravens wings, her crooked smile, succulent lips…she’s more elegant than any painting the most adept artist could ever render. As though her outward beauty wasn’t enough to lure me in, her endearing southern accent, the one that instantly told me she was miles away from her birthplace, charmed me even further. 
I hadn’t found a single reason to stay here, a reason that made London feel like a poor decision until she infiltrated my existence, when her earthy, vanilla aroma inundated me with lust and desire. 
And though she tried to hide it, I could tell she was looking at me with the very same eyes I saw her through. 
The only thing I could do at that point was push her away, and keep pushing her until she despised her every thought of me. I couldn’t risk what I was afraid it could turn into. 
It felt like knives tore through the inside of my throat when I said some of the most revolting words I could think of to her in class. I felt like the biggest piece of shit when her incredible eyes became glassed over with tears, when her round, rose lips downturned at what I had said…and I didn’t mean any of it. Not a single word of it. She didn’t deserve to hear such horrid things. 
I fucking hurt her. And that was what my thoughtless self wanted. 
I wanted it so I wouldn’t get attached, so she wouldn’t get attached. I’ve needed to get out of this fucking city–this goddamn country–since nearly every person I’ve ever loved died in the places I’ve called home. Other than my brothers, there’s been nothing to keep me here after my time at the U of M is up. And I swore there’d be no way in fucking hell I’d let some girl change that. 
But what my imprudent ass couldn’t accept was that Y/n has never been just some girl. I’ve always known it, and I’ve been utterly terrified by it since I let myself watch her—observe her. All it took was one class period for the horror to sink in that she is different from any other woman I’ve ever beheld. She even surmounts every woman in fucking literature. 
She’s magic.
And she’s broken me. She’s torn down every wall I’ve built since the death of my parents, then proceeded to destroy the ones that came up after I lost my grandparents. No one that isn’t my own twin brother has been able to see me the way she does. 
I mean, Christ, I played guitar for her. Only her. I practically gave her my vulnerability, placed it in the palm of her open hand and closed her delicate fingers over it. I’ve shown her parts of myself, piece by tiny fucking piece, that a mere handful of people have borne witness to. 
I assumed she’d be like every other girl I’d known, but the moment I held her for the first time, I realized just how profoundly wrong I was. From the first touch, the first taste, the first time I fucked her... 
I can’t explain what she does to me, or how she does it. But she brings forth an animalistic side of myself, engulfed with pure desire for everything that she is. 
I knew she was beautiful from the moment I laid my eyes on her, but when I discovered what she was hiding beneath her oversized attire, I felt longing anew. It was a cruel irony for Josh to make my room her dressing quarters. If I knew my brother at all — which I do, better than anyone — the little shit did that on purpose. 
He knew of the risks. I knew them — what might happen if I were to open my bedroom door. And it did happen — the day she was trying on her costumes, and though I knew what I’d possibly be walking in on… I wasn’t the least bit prepared for the sight my eyes would behold. 
As if Josh hadn’t fucked me over enough with the entire ordeal, he added to my misery by choosing costumes for her that only served to enhance her allure that already held me captive. 
That black lace number she was in when I opened my door left my knees weak — my face, numb. I could see every outline of her form, every beautiful part of herself that she’d hidden in my short time of knowing her. The buds of her perfectly shaped breasts were peeking through the embroidered netting, the curve of her exquisite ass was just visible beyond the exaggerated slit of the gown. And her skin, glowing in the dim light, freckled and pristine. 
I stood completely still — in awe of her. I wanted to fall to her feet at that very moment, and I suppose I would’ve if it wasn’t for Natalia. I knew it was wrong to stare at her, but no living mortal would’ve been able to avert their eyes from such an ethereal vision. 
How fitting that she wore that very gown when I at last got to feel her, glide my tongue over every goddamn inch of her sweet skin, mark her so my brother knew who she really wanted…
I’ll surely never forget the way she melted under my touch that night, the way her skin became littered with goosebumps in the wake of my fingers. And when I discovered her little secret, the sexy scarlet colored ink beneath her breast, it left me stunned at first. Yet somehow, it didn't entirely surprise me. It suits her enchantment, her mystery. And it’s enormously tantalizing. 
I simply became intoxicated by her. I needed more, and my futile attempts at withholding my true desires, of delving headfirst into something I knew I’d never be capable of coming back from, would inevitably fail. 
Fuck. She made it so difficult. And it didn’t help when I realized how badly she needed it as well. How could I continue to deny her any further when I myself could no longer resist what we both wanted? 
I chose to tread slowly, to take the time to learn her body and the ways in which she longs to be pleasured. I knew she was losing patience with me, but I had to wait until the perfect occasion. 
I nearly gave in the night she wrapped her gorgeous, velvet mouth around my cock as I drove. I discovered the limitless desires she had been harboring, giving me all she had, keeping her promise of taking care of herself to the thought of me. 
The birthday party felt like the opportune time to at last allow ourselves a true taste of one another, but when I discovered her little lie about the tattoo, my adoration for her burst out of my body like ten foot waves slamming against the oceanside. 
I was angry. But more than that, more than anything, I just wanted her. And I didn’t want to give her a single reason more that she should find herself choosing the affections of Sam over me. 
Fucking her for the first time… nothing in the world could come remotely close to the feeling. And when she’d told me she wished I’d do it — wished I’d fuck her — my heart had catapulted to a place it had never ventured before. Knowing she wanted it so badly… there had been no stopping that shit.
The feeling of her body… No other woman could ever compare — will ever compare. No matter where I venture in the world, there will never be another like her. She's the everlasting dream. My dream. 
Every curve of her body — each time her gorgeous cunt would clench around my dick, her falling apart so gloriously at my touch… I found myself transcending space and time as I knew it.
That night was the one of the most glorious experiences I’ve yet to share with another living being, second only to last night. 
And when I had her in the library…
Jesus Christ. I just need her. In every way that I possibly can. 
And I hate how much I fucking need her. This is a new realm for me. I’ve always been my own unit, seeking the company of others only when it felt necessary. I’ve never known someone who could turn my lonely world upside down and inside out in the ways she has. 
But it wasn’t until Natalia confirmed my fears that Y/n hadn’t been taking proper care of herself that I truly realized the possible breadth of my care for her. Something wholly new to me.
I felt the longing threads of my heart rip to tattered shreds. How could a woman of her magnitudinous beauty be so blind to it? How could she ever doubt the effect she has on unsuspecting souls by simply gracing a room with her charm? It shattered me inexplicably when I learned of the way she views herself. And that—that  was when I truly realized the depths of my affections for her. 
God, the depths… like that of the ocean. 
I then sought out ways in which to help her, and the one thing I was certain would bring her peace was having her lend me a hand in preparing a home cooked meal. I had to suppress the rising flood of tears when I watched her eat it, seeming to have no more doubts in her mind as she did so. I saw the very same thing at The Whitney; Not a single burden behind her eyes as she nurtured her beautiful body. 
God. She’s evoked feelings from me that I never thought could be mine to feel.
But I just can’t stay here. I can’t bear it any longer, and she has to understand that. It’s what she did herself when she chose to move here, to say a final farewell to the town that bore her own pain. 
It isn’t her damn job to have to carry my pain, though. By every measure, I’m a failure. In the truest sense of the word. 
I fell for her when I swore to myself I wouldn’t allow for it. I’ve hurt her repeatedly with my pure bullshit. The worthless tries at denying my heart.
And I’ve hurt her yet again by dragging my feet, letting her find out in the most careless of ways by leaving the evidence in her fucking book. And in turn, I’ve hurt my own goddamn self. 
God knows how hard I tried to talk to her this morning, but she had already decided to hell with me. I can’t reproach her for it. I just wish she’d listen to me, I need her to hear me. There’s no reason she wouldn’t be accepted to Oxford. Fuck — her mind, so wondrous and brilliant. I want her there with me. I’ve suddenly found myself unable to take this trek across the sea without her. But I fear my time to present that to her is nearly up. 
And it’s all my fault. Every bit of it. 
But this morning… she had wanted to twist the metaphoric dagger in my already bleeding chest.
She’d gone to Sam. Immediately. As soon as I’d betrayed her trust, she’d gone to Sam. She could’ve at least asked Josh to take her home, though her and I both knew that Sam was the more obvious choice. The choice she knew would hurt me as much as I had hurt her. 
But what she doesn’t know is how much I’m already fucking hurting. By my own hand, no less. I never intended for this, and yet, here I am, feeling things I’ve yet to allow myself to feel over a woman, a woman that walked into my life only months ago. 
And now, thanks to me, she’s being held in the arms of my younger brother, shedding her tears into his chest right outside of my bedroom window. 
Is she wearing his fucking slippers? Jesus Christ. 
I could wring his goddamn neck for this. It’s not his fucking place. His bed wasn’t where she laid last night. His body wasn’t the one taking care of hers. 
Though, I suppose I can’t fault him–I wouldn’t be able to gather the strength to turn her away, either. Not ever again, if the truth should be told. 
I just…I’ve wanted so much more with her than this. So much more. But I must now accept the chance that I’ve fucked it all up. Perhaps I fucked it up from the very start; The fact that she ever wanted anything to do with me after the way I treated her is a remarkable wonder. 
My nerves are engulfed in flames as I have to witness her getting into Sam’s car now. Him, shutting the door behind her, racing around to the driver's side so she’s not alone for too long, wiping the last of her tears with the cuff of her sleeve. 
Tears that I fucking caused.
I’ve been through immense pain in my life, the kind of pain that feels like shards of glass slicing at my skin at the reminder. But this kind of pain, watching him drive her away because she couldn’t bear the thought of me doing it, it’s brand new to me.
I’m crossing over into untouched realms of misery, of torment. 
I can’t let things with her end in this way. I won’t stand for it. As much as I wasn’t prepared for this to begin with her in the way it did, I’m not equipped to accept it ending like this. 
I cannot leave for London knowing I was never given the chance to properly fight for her.  
But if she won’t listen to me, I fear the choice will no longer be mine to make. 
End of Jake’s point of view. 
⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you say, glancing around the car’s interior, charmed by its retro vibe. “What year is this Bug?”
He chuckles, giving the dashboard a little pat. “’66,” he replies proudly. “Picked her up a few years ago and been keeping her going ever since.”
“Of course you did,” you say with a grin. “Somehow it’s just… so you.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “One thing about me: I’ll always pick the quirkiest option.” And quirkiest or not, you have to admit, there’s something reassuring about the old car – a little bubble of nostalgia that somehow makes the morning feel a bit lighter.
“Wanna make a coffee run before you go home?” Sam questions, turning his face slightly toward you, his mustache curled at both ends, his lips tucked into a graceful grin as his fingers tap at the steering wheel. His voice, soft and tender, is enough to make your heart swell amidst the chaos that has been this morning.
One thing about Sam, he definitely knows coffee is the way to your heart, and while it can’t fix the broken pieces, it can certainly make it feel a little better. 
“That sounds delightful, actually,” you say with a breath of relief over the promise of a little caffeine. 
“Ah, good. Been to Hyperion yet?” 
His attempts at making sure this morning feels as normal and not tense as possible are actually doing you some good, though you can’t help but feel a bit…weird about it. 
It feels almost wrong to be doing this. Going to Sam when Jake’s upset you, getting coffee with him when you should be doing that with Jake. (When you want to be doing that with Jake.)
But, you must admit that Sam is raising your spirits, at least a little bit. And who are you to turn down a coffee in any case? 
“Sure haven’t,” you say, bringing your legs up to the seat and criss-crossing them for a bit more comfort. “Any good?” 
“Oh, yes. It’ll change your life,” he says as he flips his blinker to turn left at the stoplight in front of the U of M. Looking ahead, just down the street a ways, you see an old brick building with the Hyperion Coffee Co printed in black on a white background. 
“I can’t believe I’ve never come here with how close it is to school and work,” you comment, trying to keep conversation, and just genuinely in shock that you’ve never even heard of this place. If it’s as life changing as Sam claims, this may become a new spot for you. Something different, a change of scenery. (And something in this town that doesn’t make you think of Jake. Even better.) 
It looks nice enough from the outside. Quaint and charming. Enough to get your mind off of things, at least for a moment. 
“You can stay out here if you’d like. I’ll keep the heat on for ya.” He turns the knob to crank up the temperature just a few more degrees when he notices your body shiver. “The usual?” He asks as he unbuckles his seatbelt and begins opening the door.
The usual. You seemed to have forgotten that Sam cared enough to memorize your coffee order. Though it’s not the most complicated, it’s still so sweet that he thinks enough of you to remember that. Something seemingly so insignificant means an awful lot to you.  
Does Jake even know that? Does he care enough to know? Of course he does…right? It doesn’t matter, truly. He did so much for you last night, more than anyone ever has. But, if he’s leaving, does he really care? You shake your head, as if you physically rid yourself of the thought. 
Coming back to your senses, you notice Sam patiently awaiting a response from you, his generous charisma as strong as ever. 
Coffee, y/n. Tell him what coffee you want.
“I – I think I’ll do something warm this time,” you stutter, realizing he’s probably wondering why it’s taking you so long to answer. “A steamed latte with vanilla sounds perfect.” 
He then steps all the way out of the car, winking at you with a kind smile and a nod. “You got it.” He shuts the car door behind him and scurries his way inside, looking back once more before he walks through the door. 
A long, exhausted sigh leaves your lips as you relax your body against the cool leather. You let your eyelids shut for just a moment, resting your eyes and your head. But, the moment is cut even shorter than you planned when you feel your phone vibrating in the front pocket of your crossbody. 
There’s no need in seeing who it is. You already know. And you’re not going to answer it. After the fourth ring, it stops altogether and you close your eyes once more, awaiting the heated comfort that Sam will bring you soon. 
But then, it begins vibrating again, forcing your eyes to jolt open. 
No. Just let it ring. 
Just the same, it ends on the fourth ring. And you hope that by now he’s gotten the hint that you’re in no place to speak with him. Not right now. Not yet. 
Before you can rest your eyes just a little more, you notice Sam using his ass to open the glass door of the coffee shop, a drink in each hand and his shoulder pressed against his ear, holding his phone. He’s basically putting on a juggling act trying to get the car door open with his hands full, so you lean over the center console to open it for him. 
“You don’t need to worry about that,” you hear him say to whomever he’s speaking to on the phone, and you sense a bit of annoyance in his tone. But you don’t even think twice about that or his words as he hands you your coffee, too ready to indulge in the warm liquid that you know will take away some of the hurt laying on your soul. 
But as you take your first sip, and as Sam positions himself in the driver's seat, his next words certainly grab your attention. “Well, that’s not what she wanted to do, Jake. She asked me to take her, why the fuck would I say no?”
You nearly spit the coffee out of your mouth when it hits you; he’s talking to Jake. And they aren’t just talking, they’re arguing. Over you.
Sam’s desperately trying to speak, but the yelling on the other end of the phone is relentless. You can’t even tell what he’s saying, but you know he isn’t happy. His sheer volume of speech confirms that. And you’re not surprised, given the way you left his room, going to Sam when he’s been a touchy topic with you and Jake. 
Yeah, you feel a little bad. Only because you know he’s hurt by your actions this morning. But you’re fucking hurt, too. And the choice to separate yourself from him was made the moment you discovered he’s leaving the goddamn country and didn’t think to tell you. 
“I – Jake, it’s not –,” Sam attempts, though his voice is drowned out by the yelling on the other end that you’re still unable to make sense of. “Would you please let me —,” he continues, uselessly. His palm meets his forehead, rubbing away the irritation as he holds his phone away from his ear, letting Jake’s words hang in thin air. And with his phone held away from his ear, you’re able to hear Jake a bit more clear. 
“I know what you’re fucking doing, and I’m not okay with it. She’s not yours to take care of! I’m gonna make you regret this, Sam. I know what your intentions are with y/n – “
Sam’s eyes nervously flick to you when he realizes you can hear everything Jake’s saying, and before you can hear anything else, he quickly brings the phone back up to his ear, quickly clicking the volume button down with his index finger. 
“I’m hanging up, brother. Need to focus on the road.” 
Sam just spoke over the muffled yelling completely before taking his phone from his ear and using his index finger to end the call, tossing it in the back seat so it’s completely out of sight. 
“Guess we really ruffled his feathers, huh?” He jokes, turning the key to start the ignition. It stalls for a moment, having a hard time turning over. But with one more turn of the key, the engine hums a low vibration. 
You’re silent as he pulls out of the lot, thinking about, well, everything. 
What the fuck has this morning been? First, you wake up next to Jake, thinking that most of your days from here on out will begin the very same way. He makes breakfast and brings it to his room for the two of you to enjoy, something so domestic and charming. 
Then, it all falls apart, seemingly as quickly as it was put together. 
And now, you’re essentially back where you started months ago; with Sam, all for the purpose of making Jake jealous. Only this time, there’s more at stake. A fresh wound festered with the reality of what almost was, what you wanted. What you thought he wanted, too. 
Maybe he does want something with you. But he obviously isn’t that invested in you if he’s not been honest this entire time. 
What he was saying before Sam held the phone back up to his ear and lowered the volume, about knowing his intentions with you that have Jake very upset…
Perhaps Sam wants to be with you in the ways Jake just doesn’t. Maybe you’ve been wasting your time with someone who can’t commit to you while there’s someone very close by who can give you everything you’ve been looking for. Someone who’s been there all along, just waiting for Jake‘s inevitable storm that would make you realize that.
There’s only one fucking problem – you don’t want Sam the way you want Jake. That’s just a simple fact you’ve had to come to terms with. Sam is so undeniably special, but your mantra since you’ve met the two of them is still very relevant right now; Sam isn’t Jake.
But as it stands, you do feel something for Sam that is far beyond friends-only. And the fact that he hasn’t given up on you, even after you hardcore ghosted him and used him to get to his brother just may be the indicator you need. 
He may not be Jake. But he is Sam. And Sam is everything kind and gentle in this world, bottled up in one beautiful person. 
But Jake…
The way Jake makes you feel is completely different. No one has made you feel the way he does. He makes you feel beautiful, desirable. He makes you feel sexy, when that’s something you’ve never once felt about yourself. 
But more importantly, Jake makes you feel safe. And during this upheaved phase of your life, when everything feels different and scary, safety is what you crave. It’s what you need. He gives you hope, he gives you meaning. Healing only feels possible with him. Maybe that’s why you’ve relapsed so hard since moving here. Aside from the trigger of the many life changes, you got so bad because he needed to see your pain to help you move through it. 
Last night felt like the first time in your life that you felt like a whole person. Someone who is worthy of love, of being loved. The worries about eating all but vanished, and as you looked at him sitting across the table from you, you finally saw a future in which you were healed and happy. 
That’s probably why this morning has felt so heavy. It seemed like just as your heart became filled with hope, it was ripped away from you at an unprecedented speed. 
Aside from all of that, you’re also afraid that you’ve destroyed a brotherly bond, simply by needing them both in different ways. You led Sam on, then pursued Jake, and now you’re back to Sam. And Jake hates him now because of it.
The very last thing you want is to get in the way of the relationship between brothers. Brothers who live together, work together, have been through so much loss together. You can’t let yourself be the reason they hate each other, after an entire lifetime of leaning on each other. It’s selfish of you. 
“I’m sorry, Sam. I feel like I’m the reason he’s so upset with you,” you carefully utter, finally finding the courage to say something to him. Because, the truth is, it is your fault that he was screamed at by Jake. This very realization is causing fresh tears to form in your ducts, because who the fuck are you to ruin their relationship? All because you can’t deny your feelings for both of them? As soon as something goes awry with Jake, you’re right back to seeking comfort from Sam. And that is not okay. You know it’s not.
And that’s why you feel like the worst kind of person right now. 
But you don’t want him to see you cry again. And you certainly don’t want to have to explain why you’re crying, because admitting what you’ve done outloud isn’t something you’re ready for. So, with the help of another sip of your coffee, you’re able to keep the tears at bay. 
“Ah, just a quarrel between brothers. Definitely not out of the ordinary for us,” Sam says, entirely unaware of the vast emotions you’re feeling, a sweet grin on his lips as he takes the final turn down the street your apartment rests on. “Nothing you should be sorry for. I promise it happens more often than you’d think.” He chuckles at this, and whips the Bug into the parking lot of your complex. 
He’s obviously ignoring what he knows you heard, but you're okay with that. A conversation about that feels a bit too much right now. 
“Thank you for bringing me home,” you say as he shifts the gear in park, letting the door unlock for you. “I really appreciate it.” 
“No problem,” he says, his sweet eyes meeting yours, his gaze lingering for a moment. “Need me to walk you up?” He asks with a gentle smile that’s tugging on every string attached to your heart. 
“I can’t ask you to do that,” you respond as you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door. 
“Just thought I’d offer,” he says, still smiling as he watches you step out of the Bug. “Take care of yourself, and text me if you need me. I’ll see you later, okay?”
With a wave and a confirming nod, you shut the car door and watch him pull away. 
As you head up the steel stairs to the second floor, a memory begins filling your melancholy thoughts. One that was triggered by something Sam had said before you got out of the car. 
It’s a memory from the night your mom ended up in the hospital, and Jake stood by your side through it all. Even stayed in your apartment with you so you wouldn’t be alone, opening up to you about incredibly personal things when you couldn’t sleep. 
“You know, it’s pretty late. And it’s a long drive back to my place,” he had said as he parked his Rover in complete silence, probably sensing your reservations about spending the night alone after what had just happened. “I could stay here, sleep on the couch. That way you’d have someone to take you tomorrow morning.” 
You were utterly shocked by his offer, and you wanted it more than anything else in that moment. You needed him there. And though he tried to play it off by mentioning how far of a drive he had, it was very clear that he proposed the idea because he knew you needed him. 
“Jake I – I can’t ask you to –”
“You’re not asking if I’m offering.” 
He wasn’t going to leave you. No matter what. And he was right; you never asked him, you didn’t have to – he wanted to stay. And he knew how badly you needed his company. 
He just got it. He understood the position you were in, and he understood your need for his presence, even before you understood what you needed yourself. 
He’s made you feel safe from the very beginning. Even when you fought it.
And now, as you’re walking inside the quiet apartment, your mom still fast asleep, you’re wishing you could relive that night all over again. Terrible as it was, you had him to make you feel better. 
The sadness you’re feeling is almost comparable to the heavy emotions of that night, but at least you had him to give you some peace then, even in the rocky beginnings of the two of you. 
You don’t have that now. 
And the reality is, you may never have it again. 
⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎
The daisies sitting in the vase on your dresser are making a mockery of you as you enter your bedroom. As are the ones sitting on the nightstand next to your bed. One bouquet from Jake, one from Sam. And next to the one from  Sam is the photo of you and Nat that she gifted you for your birthday, the photo Jake took.
Fitting. Disgustingly.
You toss your bag on the floor, not ready to take out its contents just yet. A tiny grin graces your lips as you kick off your footwear, the smiley face slippers Sam insisted you borrow for the journey home. 
The only thing you can think to do, the only thing you want to do, is take a fucking shower. Wash it all away. Let the night before flow down the drain, along with everything else you’re currently feeling. 
But before you can do that, the apartment needs tending to. Conveniently, the living room is a fucking mess. Not at all how you left it last night. Your mom certainly seemed to have no problem making the mess, but she’ll find every excuse possible that would explain why she couldn’t clean it. 
It’s frustrating for several reasons. But the biggest one that’s rattling your already shot nerves is the fact that the apartment was spotless last night. And now, thanks to whatever compelled her to ruin all your hard work, it needs to be cleaned. Again. 
You can’t shower in peace knowing the place looks this way. So, you’ll clean it first. 
At least it’ll be a good distraction from everything. A good way to occupy your mind from the disaster that has been this morning. Everything you’re feeling is far too similar to the things you felt the day your dad left. Eerily similar. Like you’re not worth staying around for, and that’s been proven twice now. 
Walking back to the living room, the first thing that catches your eye is the pile of dirty plates sitting on the floor, and the half-full cups of water on the coffee table. And that very coffee table, covered in crumbs from last night's meal. You brush them all off on the floor before picking up the dishes that have been left there, sitting them in the sink to worry about later. 
Right now, it’s imperative that you vacuum. Those crumbs from the coffee table that are now embedded in the carpet will be the only thing you can think about until they're gone. And the couch – it’s just as covered in food remnants as the coffee table was. You brush them off on the floor, too, so their fate will be at the discretion of the vacuum’s nozzle.
You grab the vacuum from the coat closet, its cord tangled and twisted, much like the contents of your mind at the moment. As you try to unravel it, it only knots further, becoming a mess in your hands. You can only get a small amount of the cord free from the rest, and that’s all the lead you have to work with as you just decide to give up and plug the damn thing in.
The low hum of the vacuum fills your head with white noise, an intrusion you hoped would drown out the thoughts swirling in your head about everything. But, it doesn’t work. They’re still there, tormenting you as you clean up your moms mess for the thousandth time.
You focus on the crumbs disappearing into the nozzle, wishing you could suck away the thoughts, too. The daisies. The photo. Sam. Jake. The weight of it all presses down, heavier than the vacuum in your hands.
The couch cushions are next. You flip one over, finding a stain you hadn’t noticed before – a dark blotch that looks like spilled wine, or maybe coffee. You can’t be sure. It’s just another mark, another imperfection in your life that you’ll be forced to live with. One that you have no answers to the questions you have about it.
When you finish, the living room is as clean as it was last night. But somehow, it’s not making you feel any better. Like the mess was the only thing keeping you from the reality you can’t escape. 
You set the vacuum back in the closet and head for the bathroom to finally rid yourself of any lingering piece from last night. The biggest thing – Jake’s smell is all over you. His sandalwood aroma, covering your body, your hair. You smell just like him, like his room. 
And it really fucking sucks. You can’t stand it any longer, it’s too goddamn painful.
The shower is scalding, but you don’t care. It feels good. You stand under the spray, letting the hot water batter your skin until it’s red. 
The water dripping down your chest reminds you of what still hangs around your neck; the sword necklace Jake gave you last night. The one that matches his. The sword, a symbol for so much. You grab the sword, clutching it tightly as you prepare to yank it off, break the silver chain in a hundred little pieces to flow down the drain with the water. 
But, you don’t. 
You let go of it, leaving it dangling between your breasts as the warm water continues to cascade down your body. 
You close your eyes and imagine it washing everything away – the mess, the memories, the ache. But when you step out, dripping and shivering, you realize it hasn’t.
It never does.
⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎
It’s not like Jake to miss class. For any reason, truthfully. 
So, it certainly caught you by surprise when you arrived at Movack's class and saw an empty seat next to yours. 
Class began over five minutes ago now, and he’s still not here. It’s pretty safe to assume he won’t be coming today. And though that should give you some relief that you won’t have to sit in the inevitable awkwardness for the duration of class, you can’t help but feel a little sad about it. 
Regardless, at least you’ll be able to focus on school today. Not him. Perhaps his absence is a good thing after all. And, it’ll truly make things a bit easier for you in this class in particular. Movack made an announcement online that you’ll be working with your partners today on an in-class assignment. 
It may be for the best that he isn’t here. Of course, it’ll leave you without a partner. But, you’re certain it’s nothing you can’t manage on your own.
“As you all know, today you will work with your respective partners on analysis,” Movack says, finally wrapping up his usual long-winded announcements he makes at the beginning of every class. “I’d like you to analyze the psychological dynamics of characters within the lore.”
Solo it is. And you’re actually okay with that.
“Ms. Y/n,” Movack says, causing you to jolt anxiously in your seat. “Mr. Kiszka informed me before class that he will be a few minutes late and wanted me to make you aware.”
Goddamnit. 
Also, why couldn't he tell you that himself? 
“O-okay,” you stutter, timidly as you notice everyone in the room glaring at you, Dr. Movack patiently awaiting your response. “Um, thanks for letting me know.” 
You’re trying to not take it too personally that he felt the need to have the professor of the damn class tell you he’ll be late. But it isn’t working. In fact, it’s kind of making your blood heat to a near boil at the thought of it. And, him coming to class means you’ll have to interact with him. You’re not ready for that yet. Part of you thought he may avoid class because of that.
But, no. Of course not. This man never skips class. No matter fucking what. He’s also never late, though. And you can’t help but wonder why he’s late today. Not that it’s your business anymore. Or, was it ever really your business?
Just as Dr. Movack is beginning to give you all the details of the assignment, Jake comes through the lecture hall doors. Their squeaking hinges echo throughout the acoustics of the room, the heels of his boots click against the hard surface of the floor as he waltzes in. He’s in no hurry, of course. His walk is a saunter, no sense of urgency in his stride as he makes his way up the steps to his seat. 
You try not to observe him too closely, your heart hammering in your chest. It is stupid how one quick, simple glance of the man has your body temperature increasing. 
“Welcome to class, Mr. Kiszka,” Dr. Movack says, greeting him with a kind smile. (And all you can think about is your first day of class, when you were late and treated the exact opposite of Mr. Kiszka.) 
Jake nods his head in response, taking his final steps until he’s right next to you. And, naturally, ignoring your existence. Not that you expected any less. You aren’t exactly pleased to see him, either. 
He sits down with a deep and heavy sigh, glancing at you briefly before looking away just as quickly as his eyes found you. The scowl on his face is rather prominent, his lips pursed and unmoving. You want so badly to say something. But, what? No words feel appropriate, yet you can’t handle this screaming silence sitting in the tiny space between you two. 
(This really does feel like the beginning of the semester all over a – fucking – gain.)
You’re angry as fuck with him right now. For reasons on a continually growing list. But all you can think about right now is how fucking good he smells. The scent that’s carried you through so much, the one you’ve found yourself covered in after being entangled within his bedsheets. It’s so close, yet feels further away than ever. 
And he looks nice. So very handsome. Salt to the still very much opened and bleeding wound. Your cheeks flush as you eye his chest through the partially open button down.
“As I stated, you will be performing an analysis on characters and their dynamics. This is to bring us back to the root of the lore, while also preparing you for your presentations that are set to begin next week,” Movack continues, his voice now like a distant muttering to you as you’re suddenly finding it hard to focus any further with the addition of the presence to the left of you. “This assignment will be interdisciplinary –  I want you to think about the infamous love triangle and how that affects Arthur’s dedication to the court.”
If it were ever possible for a person's heart to completely stop while they’re still living and breathing, right now would be that instance. You know you had a very physical reaction to the premise of the assignment, your body noticeably tensing and the gasp of air that you couldn’t hold in even if you tried. 
You didn’t know what exactly to expect with this analysis, but it certainly wasn’t that. 
Given Jake’s sudden change in posture that you can see from your peripheral, you’d say he’s feeling roughly the same as you. It’s too ironic. Uncomfortably ironic. 
Movack’s had all semester for this. And he picks now to have the class work on it?
Not the fucking time for this, Movack. 
“With your partners, I’d like you to discuss this in as much depth as our time restrictions of the class will allow,” he proceeds, as your heart simultaneously feels like it’s going to stop beating, yet rattling the bones in your body with its nervous pounding all at once. “Take notes, detailed notes, and turn them into me at the end of class. You may begin.”
You can practically taste the bile forming at the back of your throat. What the fuck kind assignment is this? God, you wish Jake would’ve just skipped the damn class. You wish you would’ve skipped. Hell, you have it in your right mind to hop out of your seat and sprint your way out of here. Take the F for the day. At this point, you couldn’t give a shit about your grade.
As if things weren’t awkward enough, this will certainly hit the nail on the head. 
Neither one of you has said a word – you aren’t even looking at each other. How do you even begin this conversation? How do you pretend that things are normal, just for the sake of this class? 
You hear the evidence that everyone else has begun their analyses, talking in depth with their partners while you and Jake have yet to speak to each other. Movack has definitely noticed that you two have yet to start. That much is clear in the way his eyes are piercing the two of you.
And, to make it worse, here he comes. Walking toward you, his arms crossed tightly over his beige sweater vest. His square frames are placed right on the bridge of his nose, his eyes peering above them in agitation as he positions himself before you and Jake. “Is there a problem?” He demands, his salt and pepper eyebrows raised as he impatiently awaits an answer from either one of you. 
You and Jake look at each other at the same time, the first time you’ve looked into his eyes since you left his room the other morning. When you left him to seek the comfort of Sam. 
And you can see it. Feel it. The very same pain you saw in his orbs that morning. They look the exact same. Only heavier, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than before. You begin to wonder if he’s been sleeping, because it certainly doesn’t appear that way. It can’t be because of you, right? Surely you’ve not hurt him that badly. He’s the one leaving. So, he can only be so hurt by his own doing. 
But, still. He looks defeated. And it’s making your heart ache, even though you know it shouldn’t.
“A-hem!” 
You both snap your heads back to Movack, who looks far more irritated now than he did before. 
“Is there a reason you two aren’t participating? I’d hate to give you two failing grades for today, but that doesn’t mean I won’t –,” 
“No, no,” Jake interjects, finally. “Sorry, we’ll get started right away.” 
Movack hums as he nods his head, pushing his frames up to his eyes before he slowly turns to walk down the steps. He’s still looking, peering at you and Jake over his shoulder before he makes it to his wooden desk at the front of the class.
“Guess we better at least look like we’re doing something,” Jake mutters, begrudgingly turning the upper half of his body so that he’s now facing you. 
You force yourself to do the same, knowing it’ll at least get Movack off your back. But, at the cost, that almost seems like the better option. Now that you’re facing him, looking at him again, it’s almost too much to bear as his downturned eyes are looking into yours once again. 
But after noticing the heaviness in his eyes, the next thing you notice is just as devastating. 
He’s wearing the sword necklace around his neck, dangling beneath his coins against his off-white button up. Hanging beautifully between his exquisite pectoral muscles. It’s odd that he's wearing it, given it’s identical to the one he gave you. 
And what’s even more weird — you’re wearing yours, too. Only, yours is tucked into your sweater, hidden beneath the heavy black knitting. Out of sight, yet still close to you. 
The fact is, you’re both wearing them. But he has the nerve to wear his in plain sight. And you immediately wonder if it’s to elicit something from you, perhaps a reminder of the fact that you’ve chosen to cut things off. 
And that pisses you off. 
“Well, we still need to have something to turn in at the end of class,” you start, your throat constricting at the first words you’ve spoken to him since that morning. Not the words you had envisioned, but here they are. All about fucking class so you don’t say what’s really on your mind. “So, don’t you think we probably need to actually do something instead of just looking like it.” 
That came out much more harsh than you truly intended. But, you are right. His idea of just pretending isn’t going to cut it. He knows that, too. 
His eyes grow wide, his jaw clenching. He brings his hand up to his chin, his finger vigorously rubbing at the skin. 
“Kay,” he snarks, sharply. “Why don’t you get started then, y/n? Tell me the impacts that Guiniverre’s love affair had on the King.” He reaches behind him to his book satchel, rips a piece of paper out of his notebook and grabs the pen sitting in the front pocket of his off white button up. “Tell me how bad it hurt the King to see his beloved with someone else.” 
Beloved?
He begins aggressively clicking his pen over and over, the sound of it overstimulating the fuck out of you. 
Hell no. 
“Let’s first discuss the treatment of the Queen,” you start, feeling every ounce of blood in your body reach your cheeks, your heart palpitating in your chest. “And how Lancelot treated her the way she deserved to be treated from day one, and didn’t lie to her like the selfish King did.”
Oh god. 
You didn’t want to say it. But Jesus, the words just kept coming. Spilling out of you like a soda bottle that had been shaken too much. 
You regret it. Instantly. 
Jake just stares at you for a moment, blankly. You’re waiting for some sort of comeback, but he’s silent. Then, to make it worse, he starts etching everything you’ve just said on the paper. Everything. 
“Jake. Jake, stop.” You try reaching across the table to cup his hand, but he quickly pulls away from you, ripping the paper with the point of his pen as he does so. 
“What else would you like to say, y/n?” His voice is steady, yet charged and heavy. The weight of his glare is keeping you locked in, your body tense and unable to move. He lets the silence linger for a moment before leaning forward towards you, his tone sharpening further as he speaks. “I’m sure you’ve got more to add.”
The room suddenly feels smaller, empty. Like everyone else in the class has suddenly disappeared, leaving only you and Jake. 
He glances at the paper in front of him, staring at the half-written words – your words. “Perhaps,” he says, his voice dipping low before rising with deliberate intensity. “You’d like to elaborate on how the King reminded her she’s a queen – by showing her exactly how indispensable she is to him.”
“Indispensable?” You echo, leaning closer to him, mirroring his body language with defiance. Your voice is sharp, cutting through the thick tension between you. “If that’s so, then perhaps we should discuss how he still wanted to leave her!”
His nostrils flare, his fingers tightening around the pen in his hand until you’re sure it’s about to break in two.
“Perhaps,” he snaps, his voice loud enough to make heads turn. “We should discuss how he bared his heart to her, and it still didn’t stop her from running to fucking Lancelot instead of letting the King explain himse –,”
“Jacob and Y/n!” Dr. Movack’s slices through the room, cutting Jake off from the remainder of his rant about the fictional characters, the rant that you know wasn’t just about them. 
You hadn’t even realized how loud the two of you had gotten. Your heart pounds as the Movack’s words pull you back to reality. All at once, you’re acutely aware of the dozens of eyes on you, of the collective silence in the room. It’s like you’d both forgotten where you were, that this wasn’t some private, messy argument but the middle of class. And yet, none of that had mattered – until now.
“Class is dismissed early. Place your notes on my desk, and I’ll see you on Wednesday.” Your classmates begin unzipping and zipping their bags, closing their notebooks, shutting their laptops. “Jake and y/n, I’d like you to stay after class for a moment.”
Shit. 
⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔
“This is the second time you two have disrupted my class.” Dr. Movack stands from his desk chair, walking around to the front to lean against the old wood bureau where you and Jake are both awkwardly standing. “I’m not blind to the fact that something is going on between you. I’ve noticed it all semester.” 
He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, placing the frames on the desk. “You two are the best students in this class. Well, the best students I’ve had in years, actually. I don’t want to see you two fall short in your studies because of something that’s happening outside of this classroom.” 
The both of you are dead silent. You can’t speak for Jake, but you feel like you could come unglued at any given second. 
“Listen, whatever it is – and let me clarify, I don’t need to know, nor do I want to know – keep it out of this classroom. Let it go before you walk through those doors.” He looks to the large doors that lead out to the hallway, pointing to them. “Because if I hear one more display like I heard today, I won’t have a choice but to kick you both out of this class.” 
Here it is. That heartstopping sensation you felt earlier, and that involuntary gasp that apparently comes with it. 
“With as late as we are in the semester, and with as much work that I know you two have put into your project, I don’t want to do that. But, it won’t be up to me. This campus has a very strict code of conduct.” He pauses, his eyes shifting back and forth from you to Jake. “As intelligent as you both are, I hate seeing you break that.”
You’ve never heard Movack’s voice like this before. His normally loud and booming voice has softened, almost unrecognizable from what you’ve come to know.
He’s stern, undoubtedly. But, it’s the kind of stern that you’d hear from a loving dad who is disappointed. You feel his sincerity, his softness hidden behind his professor-persona. 
It’s intimidating, yet it’s comforting all at once. He cares, deep down.
“Jake, I’ve known you long enough to know that this behavior is not in your character. And y/n,” he starts, looking at you with eyes that are soft and altogether hard as rocks. “I’m aware that I’ve only known you for a few months, but I know you’re better than this. I’ve seen it.” 
He then picks his glasses back up, placing them on his face again as he steps away from his desk. “I’ve seen it in both of you,” he continues, placing his hands in the pockets of his gray slacks. “Listen, I’m not just giving you this speech because of today, or because of the last time this happened. I’m telling you both all of this because you’ve both been nominated for the Distinguished Student Award given to English Majors. I am the one that nominated you.” 
Your eyes widen, your mouth parting in surprise. Instinctively, you look to Jake, whose face is emitting nearly the same expression as yours. 
“I don’t know who will be chosen,” Movack goes on. “But I can’t stand the thought of you two being ineligible because of episodes like today, that I’ve now seen twice.” He moves back to his desk, leaning his back up against it as he crosses his arms over his chest, and one loafer-clad foot over the other. “This award looks really good to grad programs. Jake, I know you’re already accepted to Oxford.” 
Fucking Movack knew before you did? Wonderful.
“But this award will guarantee funding through the scholarship only awarded to the student chosen. I can’t give you too many details, but you don’t want to mess up this opportunity.” 
He then focuses his attention back to you, looking at you with a softness that is somehow reminding you of the way your dad used to look at you. “And for you, this would be money in your pocket since your tuition is mostly covered by the fact that you’re employed by the university.” 
Money in your pocket…something you really need. You’d love to get you and your mom out of that shitty apartment someday, someday soon. Aside from that, this would be really helpful when you begin the process of applying for grad programs next semester. 
You didn’t even know anything like this existed, let alone that you would be considered for something like this. You can’t fuck this up. Movack’s lecture is the thing you needed to bring your focus back to why you’re here in the first place; your education. The only thing that’s ever truly mattered to you. The reason you were able to get yourself out of Oklahoma, the thing that will prove to everyone and yourself that you are capable of achieving anything. 
This award could open so many doors for you. And for Jake, whom a part of you wants to win it just as badly as you want to win it. He deserves it. Despite everything, he deserves it. He should be recognized for his talents, his incredible brain. He was accepted to one of the most prestigious schools in the world, after all. Painful as it is to think about, it’s not lost on you how impressive that is. 
“Do me a favor and consider everything at stake here while you’re on Thanksgiving break,” Movack continues. “You two are shining examples of the brilliance of this department. Don’t let yourselves down by letting things get in the way of that.” 
Movack excuses you and Jake, and the walk down the hall is filled with only the sounds of your sneakers and his boots against the carpeted floor. You stop once you make it to the stairwell, letting him continue his walk down the stairs. But when he realizes you’re no longer walking with him, he turns around, looking up at you as you’re standing still on the top step. 
He takes a breath, as though he’s ready to say something. But after a moment of him looking at you, of you looking at him, there isn’t a single word spoken. Instead, the silence lingers until he turns away, continuing his trek down the stairs.
Not even so much as an apology over what happened in class, or a single comment about what Movack had to say. And you’re angry about it. He should’ve said something. 
But then again, you also could’ve said something. And you didn’t. Couldn’t. 
What transpired in class wasn’t all his fault. You’re self-aware enough to recognize that. And you’re aware enough to know that everything he said was rooted much deeper than the Arthurian lore. Maybe he really does care. And maybe you truly have hurt him. Hurt him more than you ever really intended. 
But the damage has already been done. You fear there’s no coming back from this. From any of it. 
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The smell of charred turkey and singed herbs is rather potent throughout the entire apartment. So strong, in fact, that the freezing temperatures outside didn’t keep you from opening each window to air out the stench.
You had spent hours researching how to properly bake a turkey, what to season it with, how the hell you’re supposed to carve the damn thing. It’s not something you’ve ever had to worry about doing before, and you didn’t want to fuck it all up your first time. 
But, as you make the first cuts into the smoky meat, you realize that you may have done just that. It’s cooked all the way through – that’s certainly not something you need to worry about. Cooked a little too well, in fact. It’s way too dry, that much is evident by the way your knife isn’t slicing easily through the meat. 
Your mom couldn’t help you with the meal. Her coughing has gotten so much worse; she’s been struggling to catch her breath the past few days. You can hear the rattling in her chest when she speaks, when she coughs – she sounds bad. Really bad. Probably the worst you’ve ever heard. 
You can’t be certain, but you’re suspicious that she’s stopped taking her medications again. A thought that simultaneously pisses you off and breaks your heart. You’re doing everything you can to help her, but if she won’t swallow the pills, she won’t be around much longer. And no matter what she’s done, that fact absolutely terrifies you.
So, Thanksgiving was up to you this year. And the sad reality of it is you would’ve been able to enlist Jake for help. He would’ve happily done it in a heartbeat. He’d be here right now, guiding you through the steps of preparing a meal you have zero experience in.
The only thing you managed to not fuck up are the mashed potatoes. And that’s only because they’re the instant kind. A little hot water, and voila. You have perfectly mashed ‘potatoes’ that taste subpar at best. 
Even the stuffing you made from a mix didn’t come out right. Without gravy, (because you couldn’t find any instant gravy at the store) the stuffing and potatoes will just be dry and rather lackluster. But, at least it’s something. 
The chicken noodle soup is a recipe from your late grandmother. Easy enough to follow, though it just doesn’t taste like it should. It’s certainly not the worst thing you’ve ever made, but you’re a little more than disappointed in the fact that the store was out of carrots. Carrot-less chicken noodle soup just doesn’t feel complete to you. And if you know your mom, she won’t be too thrilled about the lack of carrots, either.
A less-than adequate meal for your first Thanksgiving in your crummy apartment in Ann Arbor. There is a small sense of pride, though. Regardless of how the food turned out, you did it. All on your own, too. You know you deserve at least a little pat on the back for all the work you’ve done. And not just with the food, but how you’ve managed to keep you and your mom afloat. Being the sole provider and caregiver for over a year now, surely she’ll cut you a little slack if the food isn’t up to par with what’s typically expected for a Thanksgiving meal. 
For years, you and your parents had gone to your dads side of the family for pretty much every holiday that called for family gatherings. The only family you had left after the passing of your maternal grandparents. And even before that, you didn’t get to see them but once a year for a few days during Summer break. 
With your dad having exited the frame of your life completely, that means his family is also non-existent in your world. Last year was your first Thanksgiving without him, and the holiday was spent in a small diner over an hour away from Cherry Tree. It was the only thing open, and it was all you could manage at the time. It certainly didn’t feel like Thanksgiving, but it was the best you could do given the circumstances. 
It was your goal this year to give your mom (and yourself) a decent holiday. And even if that means a shitty excuse for a meal, it’s still better than last year. A little, at least. Though, current life circumstances are still feeling rather heavy – some in old ways, some in new ways. 
As you're plating each of your dinners, the main thing on your mind right now is your dad. He’s probably in Oklahoma with the rest of the family, enjoying his second Thanksgiving without the burden of you and your mom. You wonder if he’s happier now, if he’s relieved. Maybe he’s found someone else by now, someone that’s worth sticking around for. Maybe this new someone has a daughter that he loves more than you. Maybe…
Enough. 
Those thoughts will do nothing but make this day a thousand times harder than it already is. It’s been difficult enough as it is, having to turn Josh down over and over again when he’s asked you to come over and celebrate with them. You’d told him that you needed to spend the day with your mom, and of course, his next idea was to have her come with you. Told you there was plenty of food, that Jake had spent hours preparing the meal. 
That sounded even worse than dealing with the guilt of leaving her by herself. The situation would be far too awkward, and you haven’t even told your mom of everything that’s happened. It’s just too much to explain, and going tonight, having her go with you amidst everything…
Nope. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Alone with your mom it is. And though it’s not the ideal scenario by any means, it’s the best option. (And the morbid part of you can’t help but wonder if this’ll be the last Thanksgiving you’ll ever celebrate with her.) 
“I think the turkey is a tad bit burnt,” you admit, defeatedly. “But hopefully it’ll still taste okay.” 
She’s found herself in another coughing fit as you set the plate in front of her. The coughs are deep, heavy. They’re coming straight from her chest. “Try and take a deep breath for me,” you say, rubbing her back until she finally catches her breath. “That sounds bad, mom.”
“I’m…fine…,” she tells you through gasps of air. She sits still for a moment, letting air fully fill her lungs again before she reaches for the plate of food you’ve brought her. “No carrots in the chicken and noodles?” 
Of course she noticed. 
“Couldn’t find them at the store,” you tell her as you get settled in your dining chair. “I guess I waited too long to go shopping. Just about everything was sold out.” Pulling apart your piece of turkey, you grimace at just how dry looks. “And most of what I did manage to find was from the cheap brands that no one really likes.” 
The turkey really does taste terrible. As you suspected, dry as fuck. Without a giant swig of your water, you’re not sure you’d be able to get it down. Gravy probably would’ve helped, you silently ponder. 
After a few bites of potatoes, a spoonful of chicken noodles, and a bite of stuffing, you decide you’re mostly done with the meal. 
The food is pretty bad. But that’s not the only thing keeping you from it. Eating was already hard; it’s about a hundred times worse right now. 
The holidays have always been difficult, simply because they always revolve around food. And Thanksgiving, being the holiday for food, has typically been your least favorite one to celebrate. You have so many memories of family members giving you a look when you filled your plate with less food than they deemed appropriate. And you would get even more looks when you never finished everything on your already scarce plate. 
It’s just a lot. Always has been. And this year, it’s just that much harder. 
Your mom, on the other hand, has practically finished everything on her plate. Which, to say the very least, is shocking when considering how much she shit-talks your cooking. 
“Does it taste okay?” You ask her as she smothers her last piece of turkey in mashed potatoes, shoveling it all in her mouth in one go.
“It’s a little dry,” she utters through a full mouth. “But it’s not half bad. Good job, sweetie.”
“Thanks mom.” Standing up from your seat, you take your half full plate to the kitchen and dump the sad remains in the trash. “There’s plenty more if you’re still hungry.”
“Done already?” She asks while you begin rinsing your plate in the kitchen sink.
“Yeah. The food was pretty filling,” you say, rubbing your tummy to indicate that you’re full. “Couldn’t eat another bite if I tried.” 
She hums inquisitively as she sets her fork down on her plate, grabbing her cup and sipping on the store-bought apple cider you poured her. “You’re not starvin’ yourself again, are you?” 
The plate in your hand crashes into the sink, slipping out of your grasp. You never truly know what your mom is going to say, but this…it caught you by surprise, startled you. This isn’t a conversation you want to have with your mom; you’ve never really had it at all. She’s always dismissed this part of you, pretending like it didn’t exist. Your dad was the one that got you help. Not her. 
So, hearing her mention it is…strange, to say the least. Strange and uncomfortable. Though you don’t like discussing this with anyone, she’s the last person you want to talk about it with. 
You’re not sure what to say, or if you should even say anything. Avoiding it feels like the best option – maybe she’ll forget about it, let it go if you change the subject. Just pretend like you didn’t hear it. 
“Um, there’s some pie,” you force out, leaving the plate where it landed and turning off the faucet. “In the freezer, there’s a frozen pie. Pumpkin. If you want it, I can preheat –,” 
“You didn’t break the plate, did you?” 
The plate? She’s only concerned with the fucking plate?
“N-no?” You stammer, confused. Looking in the sink to be sure, you see the plate still in one piece. No cracks beyond the ones that were already there from age and use. “No, the plate’s fine. Do you want pie?” You ask again, finding this entire interaction incredibly odd.
“No, I don’t think so.” She pushes her now cleared off plate to the center of the table, standing and stretching her arms as high as she can. She coughs again, this one even deeper and more rattling than the ones before. “Think I’ll go take a bath and head to bed soon. I’m not feeling too great.” 
Do you ask her about her medications knowing she’ll probably just lie? No, there’s no point. You know that. She’s clearly made the choice to forgo her meds again. And you learned the last time she did this that you can’t force her to take them. She’ll do what she wants, even if it means it’s slowly killing her. 
And that thought, regardless of everything, absolutely breaks you.
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After helping your mom through a bath, putting away leftovers, and cleaning the kitchen until the laminate countertops were sparkling, you’re at last snuggled up under your covers. Though it’s only a little after eight, being in your bed this early feels like the best way to spend the rest of the night. Your mom is already fast asleep, snoring away whatever Western film she’s chosen for the night, so there’s no reason you can’t hunker down in your room a little earlier than usual. 
The apartment is freezing, but you don’t mind. It just gives you a reason to turn your heated blanket up as high as it’ll go, break out your prized pair of purple fuzzy socks, and a giant ass Nike hoodie you thrifted years ago.
This kind of weather begs for a Harry Potter night, one of your favorite things to watch during the colder months. But, of course, you can’t just watch them from the beginning. As of tonight, the Christmas season has officially begun. It’s only right that you watch The Sorcerer's Stone first, the one that, in your opinion, is the most Christmasy of the whole franchise.
The only thing you’re missing are your decorations you’ve always put up in your room. Your tiny tree that could only hold maybe five regular sized ornaments, the string of colorful lights with the big, retro bulbs you’d hang from your ceiling, the wreath you made yourself when you were probably eleven or twelve that you’ve hung on the back of your bedroom door every year. 
You moved to Michigan so quickly, and there was only so much room in your Firebird for everything that encompassed your entire life. Decorations just weren’t a priority when you packed up your life in Oklahoma. 
So, you’ll just have to make do with your fairy lights framing your vanity mirror, and your cuddly cactus plant that could probably hold a star on top, if you really wanted to get festive. 
You’re only a few minutes into the movie, but your eyes are slowly becoming heavier, each blink longer than the last. There’s a certain peace with tonight, thinking about Christmas and watching a movie that has always made you happy. It’s all made you feel so comfortable, and the addition of your warm blanket is the cherry on top of the perfect, cozy night to yourself.
Letting your eyes fully close, you begin to doze off to the sound of the movie, letting it lull you to a restful, tranquil slumber. 
Until your phone vibrates. 
Initially, it scared the hell out of you, your eyes shooting open in an instant. Sitting on your nightstand made the vibration much louder than normal – you swear you felt your bed shake along with it. You clutch your chest, the intrusion making your heart race. 
Reaching for it to see who it is, you’re fully expecting a text from Nat, or another plea from Josh to join them for Thanksgiving.
But reading the screen tells you your thoughts over who it could be are very wrong. It’s the last person you expected to hear from tonight, and you’re reluctant to even open it. You were so relaxed, so close to resting. Why did he have to ruin it? 
You let the text remain unopened for a bit, but you know damn well your anxiety won’t let you leave it that way for much longer. 
“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you click on the message. 
Jake: Don’t let the food sit out there for too long, it’ll get cold. There should be plenty for both of you.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sit up in bed, unwrapping yourself from your heated blanket-burrito and using the remote to pause your movie. You read the text again, trying to make some sense of it. 
Did he…drop food off at your front door? 
There’s only one way to find out. The chilly air hits your bare legs the minute you get out of bed. The shivers run up and down your body as you quickly leave your room and head to the front door. Keeping your arms in the sleeves of your hoodie, you open the door to see probably five or so tupperware containers, stacked neatly by size in front of your door. Further inspection tells you they’re full with food. 
Quickly, so as to not let any more cold air in the apartment, you gather the containers, finding a way to cradle them all in your arms so you only need to make one trip. You use your foot to close the door, hurrying to the kitchen before one slips out from your arms. 
Pieces of turkey in one container, mashed potatoes in another, stuffing, the most gorgeous mac and cheese you’ve ever seen, and sweet potato casserole. Each lid you open lets out steam; it’s all so warm and fresh. And it smells absolutely heavenly. 
The first thing you have to do is taste the mac and cheese. Grabbing a spoon, you dig into the gooey side dish. Strings of cheese hang off the spoon as you bring it to your mouth. 
Jesus. This has to be the best thing that’s ever touched your taste buds. It’s perfectly creamy, and you can taste so many different types of cheese blended in with just a hint of garlic. You’ve never had gourmet mac and cheese, but you’re pretty sure this is about as delectable as it gets. 
Next thing to try is the potatoes, which you’re sure were handmashed. Those instant ones you made earlier don’t even deserve to be called mashed potatoes, especially in comparison to Jake’s. 
Before you know it, you’ve tried at least a few bites of everything. And, as you presumed before you did a taste test, everything is incredible. Jake is certainly skilled in the kitchen, and it makes you wonder if he’s missed his calling as a prestigious chef.
Then again, his literary brain is one of the things you love most about him. It would be a shame for him to not pursue something in the written arts. 
You’ve suddenly remembered you haven’t thanked him. Though you’re not exactly on speaking terms, you can’t let him do all of this, driving over twenty minutes just to bring you and your mom something to eat, go without a proper thank you. 
You: Thank you, Jake. That was really nice of you.
You pressed the send button before giving yourself the chance to overthink the tone of your message. (Which, you’ll still do. But, at least you didn’t type the message a hundred times before you sent it.)
After finding a place for everything in the fridge, you walk back to the front door to lock it, remembering you hadn’t earlier. You then go to peek in your moms room to see if she’s awake to offer her some actual good food. She’s still asleep, her snoring now a dull noise as she’s deep in her slumber. 
It’ll be a nice surprise for her in the morning, you think to yourself as you head back to your room. You’ve ignored the fact that your phone has yet to vibrate with a text back. No response from Jake, and it’s been a solid ten minutes. (You know it’s not that long, but your anxiety about texting him makes it feel like ten hours.)
Oh well. It is what it is. He doesn’t have to respond, and there’s a good chance that he won’t. You’ll just have to be okay with that. 
You crawl back into bed, clicking the button on the control to your heated blanket a few times to ensure it’s up all the way before unpausing the movie. Though, it doesn’t feel quite as relaxing now that your mind is a bit preoccupied with the fact that he’s still not responded. You keep glancing at your phone on the bed next to you, waiting for the screen to light up with his name. 
But, it doesn’t.
And that’s okay. Or, at least you’re trying to convince yourself of that. It was, afterall, your choice to cut things off with him. He’s already done more than he probably should’ve done. Though, you still don’t really know why he did it. The fact that he thought of you at all feels good. Really good. 
But, did he do it because he wanted to, or because his twin that’s been texting you all day put him up to it? 
That’s the question running laps around your mind as your eyes are becoming heavy again, the sound of the movie fading as you’re starting to drift to sleep. 
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“I really need your creative mind, y/n,” Josh begs. “I can’t do this without your eye, my dear. You’re the heart and soul of this whole thing.”
You’ve been on the phone with him for nearly fifteen minutes now; he’s been incessantly begging you to come over the entire time. He swears he needs your help with the final edits of the film, making sure everything flows properly, that the story line makes sense. Why a film genius like him needs your help is beyond you. But you’re flattered, nonetheless. 
And while you are flattered, and you do want to help, going over there means risking an interaction with Jake. That’s risky territory at the moment, and you can’t help but be a little offended over the fact that he never responded to you the other night. 
“Can we just go somewhere else?” You ask him, the phone nearly slipping out of your palm from the nervous perspiration. “I just don’t want to see–”
“I can get rid of Jake,” he interrupts, speaking a little quieter than he was before. You’ve got a sinking feeling that means Jake is in the room, or at least nearby. And that possibility has your tummy doing flips. “I’ll just tell him he needs to take Sam’s shift, let him handle the office for a while. I do have that power, you know.” 
He wheezes a chuckle to himself, and it actually makes you smile too. It eases your edginess for a moment, but that quickly fades when you hear another voice on the phone, one that seems to be a bit further away. 
“I can take the fucking hint.” He’s yelling, he’s angry. And you suddenly feel like absolute shit. You then hear a rather loud bang, presumably the front door being slammed as he made the decision to leave.
“Well, that takes care of that little nuisance,” Josh says, still giggling. “So, you’ll come?”
“W-was that Jake?” You ask, though you already know the answer. The very mention of his name makes your heart ache, and hearing that tone from him is like a slice to the skin. 
“Sure was,” he chuckles. “He’ll get over it. The coast is clear until six o’clock when the office closes. I’ll be awaiting your anticipated arrival, my dear.”
“Josh, wai–” You hear a smooching sound from his end before the call ends, cutting you off completely. 
Little shit. He didn’t even give you the chance to turn him down again. It’s only reluctantly that you’ll go. And you may as well go now. Get it over with quicker. 
You couldn’t care less about your appearance today. Comfort takes priority over cute as you pull on your clothes. Sweats today instead of leggings, your trusty Billy Joel crewneck – an old relic from the ‘90s that used to belong to your dad. Not that sentimentality has anything to do with it; it’s simply warmer and sturdier than your other options. Men’s clothing always seems to be made better than women’s, and vintage pieces like this remind you of a time when quality mattered. Heavy, durable, and practical – exactly what you need today. The fact that it was once your dad’s? Pure coincidence. (Mostly.)
A little moisturizer and aquaphor for your lips is the extent of your makeup, and a messy bun on the crown of your head is all you care to do for your unwashed hair. 
You slip your phone in the front pocket of your crossbody before securing it over your shoulder and heading to the coat closet to grab your puffer. You’re trying not to breathe as you walk past your mom, hoping by some chance that she’ll ignore the fact that you’re leaving. She’s been sitting on the couch for hours now, watching every film Clint Eastwood ever made back to back. 
“You know,” she starts, keeping her eyes glued to the forty three inch insignia. “Your grandfather performed a few stunts in his movies. Remember that?”  
Pulling your coat from the closet, you hold it under your arm as you turn your attention to her. “Yeah, I do,” you say, smiling softly at the fond memory of his stories. “I really miss him.” 
She’s not looked at you until now, and she’s smiling at you. Something you’ve not seen in a long time. At least not a genuine one. Her eyes are smiling, so you know she means the one she’s wearing across her lips. “I miss him, too.” 
You’ve not talked about your grandfather in years. Not since he passed. Your mom forbade you to do so, saying it hurt too much to talk about him. 
Her grieving process was much different than yours. She felt her sadness by watching movies he loved, but not talking about him while she did so. You felt yours by asking your dad about any memories he had with him. 
He’d always warned against asking your mom too much about him, or anything about her childhood altogether. There’s so little you know about her life growing up. You only know the things your dad had told you, and you know a little from what your grandparents felt comfortable divulging, which truly wasn’t much. 
Her mother, your grandma, struggled immensely with her mental health. She struggled in a time when the world simply didn’t acknowledge that the brain could be just as sick, at times more, than the body. She never got the help she needed. Though she tried to be the best mother she could be, you’re fairly certain she put your mom through a lot as a kid. From what you’ve gathered from your dad, she would act out and cause quite a bit of disruption at times. She did it purely for the attention it garnered. 
But she never remembered doing it. As your dad described, it was like a switch would flip inside of her mind, turning off the logical side of her brain and closing her eyes to what she was doing. She’d even gone so far as to make herself sick a few times, just to get attention from people. When the switch would turn back on and she’d realize what she’d done, she felt terrible. 
By the time you came around, she had finally gotten some help. She became the mom your mom always needed. 
You loved your grandma. She was as sweet and gentle with you as any grandma should be. Her and your grandpa both were. But they lived in Texas, so you didn’t see them as much as you wished you could’ve. 
His passing happened only a few weeks after hers. You’re certain he died of a broken heart. As much trouble as she gave him throughout the half century they were wed, he still loved her. 
He couldn’t find the strength to attend her funeral service. Said he’d already gotten his closure, and didn’t see the point in letting the wound fester even more. 
He was already gone by that point. A soulless vessel just waiting for the body to give out. 
You weren’t able to go to his service. Money was far too tight to make the drive to Fairview more than once in such a short period of time. Your dad did everything he could to make the trip possible. And if you’re remembering correctly, your mom didn’t exactly fight to go. She kind of just…gave up on the idea. Didn’t even try. If you had to guess, aside from the money issues, she more than likely just couldn’t handle attending both of their funerals so close together. 
This is the first time she’s mentioned him since then, and it’s…odd. But, a bit comforting. While you don’t have too many memories of him, of either of them, the ones you do have are beautifully engraved on your heart forever. 
There’s a longing to stop what you’re doing and sit with her on the couch, take advantage of this rare moment of her wanting to talk about something she’s never talked with you about before. 
But you made a promise to Josh. And that promise is quite dear to you. And, it’s not like you’ll be out late. You’ll get home just in time to make dinner and, hopefully, continue this conversation with her. 
“I-I’m going to help with some things on the film,” you say, timid over the sudden wave of guilt for leaving right now. “But I’ll be back in just a few hours. Is soup okay for dinner?”
“Sounds good to me,” she responds, deadpanned and monotone, eyes now back on the screen. “See you later.” 
“Okay.” Her sudden tone-shift has you a little nervous, that feeling of disappointing her weighing on your chest. “I’ll be back around six thirty. Love you,” you say as you head out the door, and you wait just a moment to see if she’ll respond.
She doesn’t. She essentially waves you off, and you leave in silence, left in complete confusion as to what the hell just happened. 
Part of you wonders if she’s attempting to rebuild your relationship. Well, could you even call it ‘rebuilding’? Or… more likely, was it possible she continued to work (like always) to cover up everything that’s happened in your life again? The slightly more cynical part of you wonders, like you often have been lately, if she started the conversation to guilt you into staying home.
In truth, you just don’t know with her anymore. And you may never again. Well, at least you thought you understood her. Thought that your entire life. 
But, as you’ve recently discovered, you may have never truly known her. The fact is, you’re coming to the conclusion that she’s manipulated you into believing things that just aren’t true. When Jake played you Stevie Ray Vaughn, reminding you of music that defined your life up until this point… You pondered the music you thought your mom introduced you to. Certain things with him have forced your brain to remember things from your past a bit… differently. 
Your mom didn’t listen to Stevie. Your dad did. He played his music, he talked to you about how much he admired him, and your mom took the credit for it. And, your dad being the man he had always been for her, had let her have that. Let her take credit where it was due him. She ‘took credit’ so often that she had you convinced, for years, that it was the truth. And, when he left, she took advantage of the newfound ‘hatred’ you developed for him, and used that to her advantage. 
Perhaps you’re just easy to manipulate.
Or, she’s just that good at strategically lying. 
Jesus. You just wish Jake wasn’t leaving. 
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This is your first time at the Kiszka place since Sam took you home the other morning. And while you know Jake isn’t at home, seeing his Rover outside as you pulled into your parking spot most definitely elicited some strong emotions from you. A bit of a jumpscare to see it, to say the very least. 
A helpful reminder that he is technically here as he’s working the front office of the complex. So, avoiding that specific area is necessary. If you do that, you’ll be just fine.
And though Jake may not be at home, someone else most definitely is. As if your life isn’t enough of a disarrayed puzzle, the closest spot to park your car in was an empty one right between Jake’s Rover and Sam’s Bug. 
Okay, universe. I fucking hear you. 
As you’re getting out of your car, you catch sight of Sam jogging toward his Bug, smiling wide when he sees you. “Hey, beautiful!” He pulls you in for a tight hug once he gets closer to you. His blue Patagonia pullover feels so soft and warm against your cold cheek. And he smells amazing, like eucalyptus mixed with the scent a rain shower leaves behind. “Here to help my brother, are ya?”
“Mhm,” you hum into his chest, reluctant to break the hug as it's freezing outside. As you pull away a bit, you look up at him, his warm smile making the cold air a little less crisp. “Are you helping, too?”
“Well, with Jacob taking up my post in the office, I’m free to head to the animal shelter like I’ve been wanting to.” He shrugs his shoulders, his grin growing even wider. “Kind of been thinking about adopting a puppy. Finally have the chance.”
You’d sort of hoped he was going to stay and help, but the fact that he looks so excited about the possibility of getting a puppy makes up for the fact that he’s leaving. 
He gives you one last hug before walking to his car. “I hope you find the perfect baby to bring home with you,” you say as he opens the squeaky driver's side door.
“Me too! I’ll see you later, beautiful.” With that, he hops in and starts the ignition as you power walk your way to their apartment, desperate to get out of the cold. 
Josh welcomed you with literal open arms when he let you inside, hugging you tight against his soft beige sweatshirt before you could walk all the way in. The display of affection made you breathe a sigh of relief. You’re glad to know that your friendship with him is okay despite everything. In truth, you have been a bit worried about that, given Jake is his literal twin. It would only make sense he’d choose his side over yours.
But what you’ve learned about Josh in the few months you’ve known him, is he’s the most unbiased, loving ray of pure sunshine who doesn’t hold anything against anyone. 
He's the kind of person anyone would be so lucky to have by their side. And you just so happen to be one of those lucky few. 
“Talk to me,” he says as he pulls out a chair for you to sit at the dining room table. He then sits at the chair right next to yours, turning it completely so that his entire body is facing you, his way of letting you know you’ve got his undivided attention. “Are you doing alright?” 
“I’m doing fine! Stressing about finals, but other than that I–” 
“No,” he interrupts, crossing one khaki-clad leg over the other and folding his arms over his chest. “You know what I’m talking about.” He leans his body against the back of the chair, getting himself nice and comfortable as he’s prepared to hear the truth about how you’re actually doing. “You can’t hide from me, y/n.” 
Well. Perhaps he’s correct about that. You’ve almost always been able to hide the way you truly feel from people, but when you moved here to Michigan, you found it much harder to do so with the people you’ve befriended. 
There’s no answer as to why they are able to see you so vastly different than anyone else in your life ever has. They just do. The fact that they see you at all is a wonder entirely unheard of to you. 
In a display of defeat, your body slumps down in your chair, your elbow meeting the table as you move your head to rest against the hand of the same arm. “I’m…a little sad, I guess. I don’t know, I just –,” This new territory of expressing whatever the fuck is happening in your mind is not exactly a comfortable place for you just yet. And you’ve had to do it an awful lot as of late. Jesus. Your emotions could use a fucking rest. “I thought things were going well. Better than they actually were. I can’t – I just don’t really know how to articulate it.” 
“Trouble articulating is certainly not something you need to worry about with me,” Josh giggles, unquestionably referring to his slightly long winded rambles that sometimes take awhile to get to the point he’s trying to make. That characteristic just so happens to be one of your favorite things about him.
But just as he’s about to finish his thought, your whole body stiffens in fear as you hear the front door unlock and begin to open. Glancing at your phone, you note that it’s not even two yet, so surely it can’t be him…right? 
The door opens a little more, and your breath is held tight in your lungs at the possibility of who’s behind the frame, your body frozen in your chair, entirely unable to move a muscle. 
Dear god, please no.
“Well hello, darling!” Josh lovingly boasts as Malachi struggles to walk inside with his hands full of carryout bags from Shake Shack, impressively juggling his keys and phone all at the same time. 
Thank fuck. 
Not that you don’t love to see Malachi all the time, but you’ve never been happier to see him than you are right at this very moment. 
“I know you’re a little busy, babe,” Chi says, struggling to find his footing and a free hand to shut and lock the door with. “But I could really use a little help making sure the food actually makes it to the table.” One of the bags falls from his fumbling hand, but with pure grace and luck, he somehow catches the handle with the tip of his foot, bending his knee so that the bag is suspended from the ground. 
Josh yells a monstrous laugh, clapping as he bolts out of his chair with such speed that the whole thing slams on the ground. “That was talent, baby!,” he shouts, jogging his way over to lend Chi a hand before he loses his balance. 
He grabs the bag still dangling from Chi’s foot, finally giving the poor man back his footing. You smile as you watch Josh lift on the tips of his toes to plant a big smooch on his cheek. “Thanks for picking up lunch, babe.” 
“Mhm,” Malachi hums as they bring the bags over to the table you’re still sitting at. “Wasn’t sure what to get you, y/n,” he says as he and Josh are moving the fast food contents from the bag to the table. “I hope a grilled cheese and some fries are okay!” 
You didn’t know food would be involved today, but you are hungry. Extremely hungry, in fact. Needless to say, meals have been even harder since you discovered Jake’s little secret. Just one more thing to add to the endless triggers as of late. 
And though eating is hard right now, a grilled cheese is actually one of your safe foods, something you’ve never been too anxious to eat. A childhood staple that’s never been too much, yet just enough. “You can never go wrong with melted cheese on toast,” you say to Chi. “You really didn’t need to get me anything, but I appreciate it.” 
“My thoughts precisely. And it was no problem at all,” he remarks as he sets the meal down in front of you, along with a few crumpled up napkins. It smells so wonderful. You’ve suddenly gotten the urge to rip open the foil wrapper around the sandwich and scarf the whole thing down as quickly as you can. Of course, that’s not what you’ll do. One bite at a time like a normal, not ravenous person will do just fine. 
“You two get anything done while I was out?” Chi asks as you take your first bite, letting the warm cheddar sit on your tongue for a moment, relishing in the melted gooeyness. 
He pulls out the chair on the end of the table beside Josh, digging into his own food once he sits down next to his partner who’s nearly finished his burger already. 
“Not quite,” Josh answers, mouth full of food, wiping ketchup globs from the sides of his lips with his napkin. “We’ve been catching up, haven’t we?” He looks to you, smacking his food and winking. “And don’t think we’re done with our conversation just yet, sweetheart.”
Dammit.
“Ah, the Jake drama, I take it?” Chi speculates, examining his burger with a huff of irritation. “They never remember to leave off the damn pickles.” Begrudgingly, he peels them off the patty, one by one, tossing them in one of the bags he brought the food in. 
“Picky picky,” Josh teases, tossing his trash in the same bag with the forsaken pickles. “Anyway, as I was saying,” he begins, dusting the salt from the fries off his hands and turning his chair back to face you. “We’re not done talking about this.” His hands reach for yours, cupping one the one not holding your grilled cheese between his two palms. “I don’t want you to let anything that happened with my brother make you feel like you should keep your distance from us.” 
You know he’s referring to his multiple attempts at reaching out to you, inviting you over, eliciting your help on the film. He’s certainly been trying to keep you around, and while you’ve never really been able to identify your self worth, the fact that he’s gone to all of this trouble just to maintain a friendship with you truly does make you feel good. Really good, actually. 
You’re suddenly feeling incredibly horrible for ignoring his endeavors. Avoiding Jake doesn’t mean you need to avoid Josh, or Malachi, Sam…
They are extensions of Jake, to a degree. But they aren’t Jake. You can have relationships with them without the addition of Jake. If they’re okay with it, then so are you. 
“I won’t,” you confirm with a deep sigh, setting your sandwich with a few small bites out of it down on the foil it was wrapped in, deciding you’ve had enough. “I promise.” 
You’re glad Josh hasn’t decided to cut you out completely, because losing Jake is hard enough as it is. It would be much worse if everyone decided you were no more than an insignificant fling in Jake’s life (which could still be the case… for Jake, at least.) and chose to cut you off when he did.
But you can’t help but wonder why no one thought to mention it to you, or why it was never brought up. Obviously, Jake’s decision wasn’t on a whim, or some spur of the moment choice to move to another country. This had to have been in the works for a long time now. And you know his brothers knew about it. They’re his brothers, for christ sakes. One of whom literally shares his DNA. 
Aside from that, Jake’s job as co-business-runner of this incredible complex is far too important to just leave without warning. There have no doubt been several talks amongst all of the Kiszkas. And surely, they’ve begun the process of hiring someone in his place by now. (The mere thought of all of these loose ends getting tied up sucks, by the way. Makes it all the more real that he’s actually leaving to live in an entirely different fucking country.)
So, a question that’s been sitting in your mind, festering, lingers. 
“Can I ask you something, though, Josh? And I want you to be honest with me.” 
You’ve certainly piqued Josh’s interest. He sets his burger back down on the table just as he’s about to take a bite, choosing you to give you his full attention. “Of course, love,” he says.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me he was leaving? I’m far past done trying to comprehend Jake’s silence about the whole thing. I cannot wrap my mind around that—.” Shifting your weight in your chair, you try shrugging off the tension forming in your body at the thought. Tugging at the sleeve of your sweatshirt, you let out a heavy sigh as you stare at your fidgeting hands. “But I just want to know how come no one warned me. I mean, I know we weren’t exactly public about…,” you pause, thinking of the right word that describes what you and Jake are – were. “...our thing together. But we didn’t really hide it, either. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is I feel like someone should’ve told me, you know?” 
You peer at Josh through your lashes, having felt far too nervous to look at him until you said what you needed to say. His hand is rubbing at the back of his neck, his lips curled in a nervous grin. “Well,” he begins, fluffing the curls sitting on his forehead with the back of his hand. “I can’t argue that, my dear. You’re right; someone should’ve told you. It’s not that I didn’t want to – I was obligated by oath.”
“Oath?” You question, finding yourself awfully intrigued by this now-apparent promise to keep quiet.
“He made me – us – vow not to tell you, or to let on to it until his timing felt right.” He shrugs his shoulders, uncrossing his legs and places his hands in his lap. “I trusted that he’d find the right time and the right way to present it to you. He fucked his entire plan up. The whole goddamn thing.” 
Us? Plan?
You’re hearing Josh’s words, but you’re growing increasingly frustrated over the fact that it seems everyone knew before you did. Along with the frustration is the maddening confusion that seems to relentlessly linger. “Who’s us?” You ask, fighting the frustration seeping out through your tone of voice. It’s not Josh’s fault, you know that. He’s not the one you’re upset with, and you don’t want him to think your anger is toward him.
“Well, Malachi and I,” he says as he gestures toward his partner who’s just finished his burger. “And Sam.”
Sam? He talked to Sam about this? Your heart practically skipped a beat at the mention of his name. 
“But he hadn’t told Natalia or Danny yet. He didn’t trust those two to not spill the beans,” he giggles, Chi joining him with an agreeing smile. 
He’s certainly correct about that. Nat wouldn’t have kept something like this from you, wouldn't have let him keep it from you. She would’ve made him tell you. 
So, yeah. He was smart in keeping her out of it. And telling Danny would mean practically the same thing as telling Nat. 
But if he asked Sam to keep it from you, wouldn’t that mean Sam was privy to your situationship? He acted like he had no idea you two were a thing…acted? It certainly makes more sense to you that Sam would’ve known this whole time. How could he not? The times you and Jake snuck off together and weren’t seen for the rest of the night, or the unspoken glances and subtle touches you’ve shared in front of everyone. The fact that you completely ghosted Sam when things with Jake were picking up. 
Surely he knew before he found out about your birthday date with Jake. It’s possible that he really was naive and oblivious to it, but you also can’t help but wonder if there’s more to it than that. Especially considering what Jake said to him on the phone the morning he took you home. 
What if he has known this whole time, but chose to ignore it? What if he was waiting for the moment Jake would fuck up and you’d turn to him once again? 
Jesus. That’s a lot to take in, and you’re in no place emotionally or mentally to consider all of that. Your fingers begin rubbing away the ache present in your temples, and you feel Josh’s hand reach for your knee to offer you some comfort.
“I’m sorry, love. You probably feel like you’ve been lied to by everyone,” Josh goes on, the sympathy in his voice touching your heart. “But no one had any malicious intent. We just wanted Jake to take the reins on this one and, well, he blew it.” 
Yeah, that about sums it up. 
“You don’t need to apologize, Josh. It’s not your fault – or yours,” you add, directing the words toward Malachi, who looks a bit uneasy with the direction this conversation has taken. Definitely not what he bargained for when he showed up with the food, you’re sure. One of the most non confrontational people you’ve ever met. “I understand why you didn’t want to tell me. It makes sense. Really, I get it.”
Josh gives a gentle squeeze to your knee before letting go, offering a sweet, apologetic smile. “I’ll tell you one thing,” he says, chuckling softly through his nose. “I’ve never seen him this…,” he pauses, raising his hands as though he’s reaching for the right word. “...entranced before. And don’t you dare let on that I told you this,” he says, waving his index finger toward you. “But he’s absolutely captivated by you, my dear.”
You cock an eyebrow at Josh’s words, feeling a mix of emotions about it. You know Josh wouldn’t lie to you, but you can’t fight the lingering sense of doubt over what he’s saying. 
The way your stomach tightens and then flutters at his words, though… The idea that you ‘captivate’ him in a way his own twin has never witnessed another woman ‘captivate’ him — it makes your skin tingle in a way that has you reminiscing. Reminiscing on the evening of your birthday…
But, when you think about the night of your birthday, when he played Lenny for you and handed you that part of his heart, it does make you wonder if it could be true, that he is captivated by you. 
You can’t be certain about how he feels, but what you do know is you are undoubtedly captivated by him. In every way, unfortunate as it may be.
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“My god,” you mutter as you’re seeing the first clips of the film. The picture is beautiful. The cinematography is beyond what you imagined, like a movie with a billion dollar budget, set to be released on silver screens around the globe.
The fact that your group of people, that Josh was able to produce something of this magnitude…
You knew it would be beautiful. But you didn’t realize it would be this professional. 
“Josh, this is –,” you say, watching only the exterior shots he grabbed to set the scene. “Wait –, “ You press the spacebar on the laptop to pause the video, looking at Josh who’s grinning into the palm of his hand at your reactions. “I didn’t know you had a drone!” 
The footage is of a mountainous landscape, from above it. He’s slowed the video down, letting the powerful cinematic music play over the view of the lush peaks. The camera rounds the mountains, hovering above a crystal lake glittering at their bases. It then turns to the field of trees next to the water, their leaves in full evergreen wonder. He must’ve filmed this at the beginning of August, as the colors of the trees are exactly as they were when you moved here. You remember, because they charmed you instantly. 
“You like it?” He eagerly asks, anxious excitement laced in his voice. “I thought the drone footage added a bit of je ne sais quoi to the piece.” He kisses the tips of his fingers in a chef's kiss of sorts, in regards to his work. 
Awestruck is the only word that appropriately encapsulates how you’re feeling as you watch this masterpiece, and you’re hardly two minutes in. The quality is perfect. The colors are so rich and deep. How a college student managed to create this is absolutely beyond you. Then again, this is the mind of Josh you’re witnessing. After months of working with him, seeing his gorgeous visions come to life, you really shouldn’t be all that surprised. You’ve been utterly impressed by him since day one of working with him. 
“It’s beautiful, Josh. Better than any movie that’s come out in the last few years.” 
He laughs shyly, pausing the film with a tap against the space bar. “I can’t accept that, y/n. But, it most definitely means a great deal coming from you.” 
“Don’t inflate his ego,” Malachi chuckles, gathering all the trash from lunch on the dining table. He leans down to Josh, whose face is contorted in annoyance, offering an apologetic kiss. Josh lifts his hand just as their lips are about to meet, so Chi’s lips land on his flattened palm. “Awe, c’mon, babe. I just was joshin’ ya.” Chi winks in your direction, grinning mischievously from the corner of his mouth.  
You can’t help but giggle, holding your hand up to your mouth to suppress how hard you truly want to laugh. 
“You are done,” Josh says, holding back his desire to laugh by brushing down the slides of his mustache. “I believe the costume picker-outer is no longer needed during the process of editing the film. You know, since the costumes are already picked out and filmed.” 
Malachi winces as he tosses the fast food trash in the trash can, clicking his tongue. “Ouch, babe. Got me there,” he says, sarcastically, strutting back toward the table and leaning down to Josh once again. “This costume picker-outer is going to take a nap and leave his brilliantly callous boyfriend to edit in peace.” They both giggle, and Josh finally gives in and gives Chi the kiss he went for earlier. 
As Malachi heads up the stairs, you notice the blush in Josh’s cheeks as he scrolls through the footage on his laptop. “You guys are sickeningly cute,” you say. 
“We are, aren’t we?” Josh replies, the gap in his front teeth on display with the biggest grin you’re sure you’ve ever seen from him. 
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You’ve been looking through video clips for over two hours now, lending Josh a hand in editing and arranging them wherever you can. It’s certainly a bit weird and almost uncomfortable to see yourself, well, like this. You hadn’t realized just how much of you you’d see on the screen. Both in the amount of scenes you’re in and the amount of skin you’re presenting. 
Especially those scenes with Sam. 
Though it is uncomfortable to see yourself tangled up with him like that on the screen, the way it’s filmed is incredibly sexy and perfectly sensual without it being too much of either of those things.
Josh’s camera skills are unmatched, as you’ve discovered by watching everything back. He filmed all the right things, found all the best angles. The ones of you in bed with Sam, the ones you were most nervous to see, are so beautifully done. You don’t even see yourself in them, you see Guiniverre. And when you see her, you see beauty in yourself that you’ve never known before.
Josh paid extra careful attention to the shots of your body, being sure you’re not in a place to be objectified, but admired. Only very small glimpses of your body are shown, but enough that it’s very clear what is and will be taking place with the queen and her secret lover. It’s simply magnificent, cinematically stunning. You’re proud of it, and you have no doubt it’ll guarantee you and Jake a good grade in Movack’s class for this genius adaptation of the lore. 
You’re mesmerized by each scene you watch, but your favorite scene you’ve seen thus far is the one in which the queen and Lancelot kiss for the very first time, hidden in their secret sanctuary in the forest. 
It was the first scene you’d shot. You were so nervous; you hardly knew everyone at that time. Yet, it’s the most convincing acting you had done in all of the scenes you’ve seen. Not only that, but it’s the most aesthetically beautiful. The place Josh found for it was incredible, and you find yourself thinking about that little hidden gem amongst the trees behind their apartment complex quite often. 
Watching all of this has brought back so many memories of filming. Like that day you filmed the first scene, how Jake was pissed and you got to witness your first twin fight. 
As you watched further, there were little clips interspersed within the captured film that highlighted times like that. ‘Behind the scenes’ footage, if you will. The candid moments made your heart skip a beat and your eyes well with tears. A smile, pulling easily at your lips as you reminisced. It was as you reviewed these clips that you truly realized how this experience had been one of the best in your entire life. Truly. This group of people, having changed your life so inexplicably… It made you wonder if part of your reason for winding up in Michigan was to simply meet and love all of them. 
These small, carefree moments in time you remember witnessing (others you were sure occurred as you busied yourself with costume changes) — they rivaled many cherished family videos of your own. Because, you realized, these times and these people had taught you an authentic appreciation for life like you’d never had before. Every single ‘outtake’ made your chest ache and long for all of it, all over again. A never changing existence with these wonderful individuals you got to call your friends. Chosen family, even.
Giggles and snorts filled the room at the miscellaneous clips, thrown in at the most hilarious times. Extremely serious scenes would end with a ‘cut!’. And Kiszka mischief would immediately follow in the very next break of camera footage.
You snickered watching the clips of Jake and Sam, stealing the cameras and filming each other at the same time. They were flipping the bird at one another and laughing so hard at Josh throwing a fit over them “mistreating the equipment.” 
And then one of your favorite days filtered in. When Jake was practicing his British accent and sounded way too much like Jack Sparrow. His little accent, endearing to you in a way you still can’t describe.
His brothers gave him so much shit for the lilted tone. You grinned as you watched film roll back of them telling him he sounded like the drunken pirate, only serving to fan his flames. Acting like a pirate for the rest of the day, yelling “argh!” at least every five minutes and continuously asking where the rum had gone. (Of course, there was no rum to begin with. Only tequila… a Jake staple.) 
As well, you heard him yell “parlay” in the background of some of the clips. You remembered he’d done it anytime Josh told him to prepare himself for a scene. At which point Josh would remind him that they were, in fact, not on a pirate ship and, consequently, there was no captain to take him to. 
You belly-laughed harder than you ever had that day. Just as you did watching them now. Josh was so frustrated with him and his pirate antics, but after a while he got in on it, too. Jake’s impression, arguably better, probably due to his childhood obsession, (and his adult obsession – his car is named the black pearl for a reason, after all) but Josh’s, heard again in these outtakes… it wasn’t half bad.
Those days were simply the best, and you’re finding yourself reflecting on them with a feeling of pure joy, with that bothersome undertone of sadness. Though those days were only a few months ago, some of them even less than that, you miss them. You always will. You miss the peace they gave you, the new sense of belonging they provided that you’d never known up until that point. 
Things are so different now, and you hate it. You’re afraid you’ll never be able to hangout with all of them again. Things would be too awkward, too tense. Those days are only left in your memory as some of the best days of your life. And your memory, sadly, is probably where they’ll stay. 
But at least you have something to commemorate those memories; the film will forever exist in the ethos of time, a visual representation of the moments — some bad, but most of them wonderful — echoed in your mind for the remainder of your lifetime.
“The red looks so vibrant, Josh,” you say as you watch him edit a scene in which the queen is wearing her red gown, the most stunning costume you’d ever seen when you put it on the first time. And the red lips, the special Guiniverre red you wore that you’ll always identify with your portrayal of her (and you’ll certainly never forget the smear of it, all across Jake’s face. The two of you, hidden behind the door of his room). The lipstick in every scene is so brilliantly bright – you knew it would be a staple for your version of her, and the red lips, along with the red dress and Sam’s red costumes are suddenly inspiring you. 
“I have an idea, and if you hate it, it’s okay. Just don’t tell me you hate it,” you say, still eyeing the suddenly iconic lip color. 
Josh stops what he’s doing as he grins and gives you his attention. He squints his eyes as he looks at you, staring directly into yours and biting his lip. 
“I see a glint of genius in your eyes,” he says, staring at you almost uncomfortably intently. He then bends his torso and places his elbows on his knees, making a fist with his hands for his chin to rest on.“I’m all ears. Let’s hear it.” 
He’s looking up at you with giant, baby cow-like eyes, lashes nearly touching his dark brows. He certainly looks intrigued, and you’re fighting against the nerves to voice your thoughts to someone so talented. But, if anyone isn’t going to judge you for an idea, it’s Josh. 
“The color red is really significant in this film – it symbolizes their lust and the intensity behind their passionate affair,” you begin as he cocks an eyebrow, nodding his head while his lips part a little. “Here’s what I’m thinking. We edit every scene with Guiniverre and Lancelot to be black and white, except for the color red. So, her lips, her dress, the bedsheets, anything red is highlighted as an ode to their passion.” He quickly lifts from his bent over position, bringing his hand up to his mouth as his eyes grow wider.
“Brilliant!” He shouts, so loud that your body jolts. “Your mind is a visionary trove, y/n. What a dazzling testament to your pure genius!” He leans forward and cups your face in both of his hands, planting a wet kiss on your cheek. “How very Spielberg of you, my dear.”
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Almost two more hours of non-stop editing have gone by, focusing on the colorization of the scenes that’ll be mostly black and white, save for the red details.��
And just as you expected, it looks incredible. Josh has given the scenes an almost noir effect; they’re grainy and contrasted, very low exposure. It’s beautiful, divine, and so sexy. The pops of red are subtle, yet alluringly effective. It looks even better than you imagined, all in thanks to Josh’s eye for filmmaking. 
You both decided on only the intimate ones to look this way, that it shows the significance of their ill-reputed affair and sets them apart from the rest of the film. The only scene of this nature that won’t look this way is the first kiss between the lovers, and that’s simply due to the breathtaking scenery surrounding them. It’d be a shame to take away from that, and Josh believes it makes perfect sense that their first encounter be colorized. 
Everything is turning out even better than you could’ve ever imagined. And while you’ve only tackled a handful of the scenes in this masterpiece, you know the rest of this film is pure magic. 
It’s getting late now, and you promised your mom you’d be home at a good time tonight. (Not to mention, it’s almost time for Jake to get off work, and you don’t want to risk that intrusion.)
“I’m forever in your debt, y/n. Thank you endlessly for your insight today.” Josh helps you put your coat on, handing you your crossbody once you’re situated in your puffer. “You’re the very thing we needed for this film, I hope you know that.”
You thank him with another hug, letting the embrace linger as he sways you back and forth. You then hear the front door open again, and you look over expecting Sam to walk in with his newly adopted baby from the shelter.
As the door opens further, you look down towards the floor in hopes of seeing a dog walking through. But, what you see is no dog. It’s a boot. A black boot. One you recognize rather well.
The way your heart picks up in your chest, your breath catching in your throat… it’s embarrassing. But you can’t help your bodily reaction of his closeness. His proximity, fulfilling secret desires of being with him again. Secret, ridiculous desires.
And as the rest of him walks in, you’re met with the person you tried to avoid tonight. For obvious reasons, but mostly because you can’t trust yourself around him. Jake walks in, seemingly unaware that you’re standing only feet away from the door. He turns around to shut and lock it, kicking off his boots before he finally notices you and Josh.
You don’t say anything, he doesn’t say anything. The two of you stand still for a moment, sharing an awkward glance in complete silence. God, how you wish things were different.
Josh being Josh, can’t handle the quiet tension any longer. He knows the two of you probably won’t say anything unless he breaks the tension himself. “How were things at the office?”
Jake heads toward the kitchen, walking past both of you to get to the fridge. “Fine,” he says as he grabs a Miller Lite from the top shelf. “Pretty slow. Slow enough that I probably could’ve worked from here and just had the phone on me.” Based on his tone, you’d say he’s still a bit angry over having to work tonight. Also, the fact that you’re still here is most likely not helping. 
He cracks open the can, taking a large swig of it before he walks out of the kitchen toward the hallway.
“Oh,” he mutters before as he stops midway to his room. He spins back around to face you, taking a few steps closer. Your heart beats at the prospect of him being nearer to you, even if only a little. “Sorry I didn’t respond the other night,” he says to you. “I had just forgotten to.” His voice is gentle and sincere, yet there’s a touch of sadness encompassed in his words. “So, um, you’re welcome. I hope you and your mom enjoyed it.” His lips form a thin, sweet smile. He nods his head as he takes another sip of beer, disappearing back down the hallway. 
You ignore the way your heart falls at his sudden lack of presence. Him, being the last thing you wanted to see and the only thing, all at once. Foolishly, you long to follow him down the hallway.
But you don’t.
“He insisted on bringing it to you,” Josh tells you as he gently nudges you, capturing your attention from the last spot you’d been able to see Jake. Fuck. You let his nudge sort of guide you to the door. He takes the hint and begins walking you there. “Said he knew your cooking wouldn’t suffice.” He laughs, and you can’t help but chuckle a little, too. Because, well, it’s absolutely correct. 
As you say your goodbyes to Josh, and head out the door and walk to your car, your heart feels like it’s beating in your throat. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to utter a single word. You only gave him a half smile when he apologized for not texting you back. You could’ve at least thanked him again for the food. 
But, you didn’t. And all you can think about now is the way he smiled at you before he went to his room. 
It was a Jake smile, no doubt. But it was missing something. What was missing, you can’t be sure. Whatever it was, it has you ruminating on everything Josh told you today. Everything about Jake… his ‘plan’ for telling you about London. 
You may never know what his plan was, because you’re not allowing yourself to get close enough to him again to find out. One thing you can be certain of is his plan wouldn’t have changed the outcome. He would still be getting ready to leave, and that alone is enough to force you to keep your distance. 
Because if not, you fear you’ll fall for him… Further than you already have. 
⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎
The coffee tastes bitter this morning. The cold foam on top isn’t as foamy as you normally prefer it, and the vanilla is, well, lacking, to say the least. 
Not even Carmen, the most lively girl with her sweet freckles and stylish glasses, could bring you out of your slump this morning when she handed you your coffee. She already had it made for you before you even walked in the automatic sliding doors, and normally her toothy smile always brightens your day. 
But, not today. Not for the last few days, in truth. 
You told Nat you weren’t coming to the coffee shop this morning. It was a lie, clearly. And you feel bad for lying, but you need a moment of reprieve before the day begins. A moment away from home, from work, from classes. 
Any time you can get to yourself, you’ll take it. Even if it means being dishonest to someone who truly doesn’t deserve it. 
You could’ve just told her the truth, and you know she would’ve understood. But you also know that she would’ve fought you on it. You need to be around people, you can hear her voice telling you in your head. You shouldn’t be alone right now. 
But you want to be alone. Your longing for solitude as your mind wraps around everything is far greater than your need to be with people right now.  
Talking to everyone is just too damn much. Every single conversation you’ve had as of late has absolutely drained every piece of you. There’s no harm in telling a little white lie, if only for the sake of balancing and maintaining your own mental peace. 
But, that peace is disrupted, shattered, replaced with pure guilt when your eyes catch the person currently walking into the coffee shop. Her pace is quick as she bolts through the door, her normally tamed curls are full of frizz and tangled in a messy bun. She’s wearing her giant Aalyiah t-shirt with an even bigger fluffy cardigan over it, and baggy sweats as if she had just gotten out of bed. But she still looks beautiful. Beautiful as ever. And, she looks mad. Her eyes connecting with yours freezes you in your spot.
“Just as I suspected,” she says as she stomps over, joining you at your lonesome table meant for two. “Had a pretty good feeling I’d find you here.” She slams her book bag on the table, yanking the chair out from under it and planting herself in it. 
Dammit. 
“Nat, I’m sorry. I just needed to be –,”
“Alone?” She interjects, giving you the most frustratingly disappointed look you’ve ever seen her give, her voice practically echoing around the coffee shop. “You’re alone all the time, y/n. And no offense,” she insists, yet her tone would suggest that she most definitely means to offend you a bit. “But I don’t exactly trust you to be alone right now.” She pauses, her eyes flitting up and down your body that’s slumped down in your chair. “Are you eating? Because it really doesn’t look like it.” 
One way to irritate you is to take away something you feel you’re entitled to, like having alone time. No matter how much of it you have or need. And another way to irritate you is when someone insinuates that you’re not allowed to do the things you need to do in order to cope. 
Everyone deals with shit in different ways. Some need to be surrounded by people, some need to have time to reflect on their own. You just so happen to be in the latter category. Just because someone doesn’t handle things the same way as you, doesn’t make them wrong in doing so. 
And, to bring up your eating? 
No. That has quite literally nothing to do with what’s going on right now and you do not want to entertain that at the moment. 
You know she cares. She probably cares more than anyone else. But she’s bordering on the line of being downright rude and, with everything else happening in your world, it’s not the time to hear that your best friend doesn’t trust you. That’s the last thing you want to hear right now, and for what? Because you want to be alone? 
“Okay, for one, can you please lower your voice?” You say through gritted teeth, the blood rushing to your cheeks from fear that everyone in this blessed coffee shop heard what she said. “And second, what do you mean you don’t trust me, Natalia?” 
There’s a lingering, rancid vanilla taste from your coffee sitting in your chest, creeping up and burning your throat. You feel like you could throw up. This isn’t what you want right now, it isn’t what you need. 
The palms of your hands slam against the metal table, then reach up to your scalp, fingernails scratching at the roots of your hair. A display of the raging turmoil happening inside, unable to be concealed any longer. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Natalia. I can take care of me, my mom, anything. Don’t treat me like I can’t.” 
Fuck. 
That nauseous feeling is even worse, the very thought of taking another sip of coffee sounds revolting. This fucking sucks. All of it. 
You don’t want this with her. And you don’t want her to leave you because of this, because of who you are. But you’re clearly causing her vast amounts of unneeded stress, burdening her with your shit self-esteem. 
Maybe she’d be wise to leave you, to end this friendship and find someone else to replace you. 
“Got it. I’ll let you be alone.” Her voice is sharp as she stands up from her chair, the metal screeching loudly against the floor as she pushes it underneath the table. She turns from you, beginning to walk away, but something stops her feet from moving further. She then turns on her heel to face you again, taking small steps closer to you. “I know you’re upset with him. And I know you’re going to miss him.” 
Her once angry eyes have turned softer, more understanding as she’s staring into your own, as yours begin to fill with tears. “But don’t let him be the only reason you care about yourself. Because what will you do when he leaves, hm?” 
The tears that were filling your eyes are now streaming down your cheeks, warm and salty to the taste when they reach your lips. She moves even closer, her hand reaching for your shoulder, her touch offering a gentle reassurance. “I love you, okay? Don’t try to push me away.” 
With that, she leans down to kiss the top of your head, then walks away toward the glass doors she entered just moments ago. With blurry eyes, you watch her walk to her car through the window.  
You shouldn’t have lied. You know that. Being honest with her would’ve made this whole situation fair much better. She’s just looking out for you, and her love is a bit tougher than what you’ve been used to. While you wish she’d show you more careful love, perhaps tough love is what you truly need. And perhaps she is aware of that as well. 
Even though it’s something you’re not entirely familiar with, deep, deep down, you are grateful for it. She forces you to question the way you care for yourself, she forces careful self-reflection when it’s not something you’ve ever really done. 
One thing you know, undoubtedly, is that you can’t let yourself lose her. 
Deciding it’s time to swallow your pride, and when you realize she’s still sitting in her car that hasn’t moved, you gather your bags, toss the revolting remains of your coffee in the trash, and speed walk your way outside. 
She’s staring at her phone when you walk up to her driver's side window, lost in a mindless scroll through TikTok, slumped in her seat. She’s aware of your presence, that much you can tell. It’s obvious she’s waiting on you to make the first move. (Though, in your mind, walking out here in the first place was the first move.) 
Alas, you’ll give in to her stubbornness. With your fingernail, you lightly tap it against the glass to get her attention. It’s clear she’s fucking with you when she doesn’t acknowledge you right away. So, you tap the glass again, a little harder this time, and continuously until she has no choice but to humor you. 
She slowly turns her head in your direction, looking up at you through her beige framed Ray-Bans. Keeping her eyes on you, and making an intentionally slow effort, she presses the button to lower the window. 
“Seriously, Nat?” You say in response, giggling at her almost comical pace with lowering the window. “Are you going to let me apologize to you or not?” 
“Oh, so you’d like to apologize, huh?” She mockingly states, at last letting the window roll the rest of the way down. “I’m all ears.”
With a roll of your eyes, a deep breath, a one last gulp of what's left of your ego, you begin your plea for forgiveness. “I know what I did was wrong. I should’ve just been upfront with you instead of lying.” She lowers her glasses a bit more down the bridge of her nose, waiting for what she really wants to hear. “And, you’re right. About everything. I don’t take care of myself the way I should, and it’s definitely been much harder lately.”
With a smirk, she takes off her Ray-Bans, fully revealing her golden irises, like sweet honey in the morning sun. “Yep, I am right,” she says through a snorting chuckle, adjusting herself in the seat to face you better. “And you should also know that you’re a really shitty liar. If you’re gonna do it, at least get a little better at it, geez.” 
Well. When she’s right, she’s right. You are a shitty ass liar, apparently, given she knew the very place you’d be. The one you said you swore you wouldn’t be at. 
“Do you forgive me?” You ask quietly, internally worried that this may have driven a rut in your friendship. And it’s all your fault. 
Without a word, she places her sunglasses back on her face and unlocks the car. “Get in,” she says. 
Confused, but in no place of wanting to argue with her, you walk around to the passenger seat. Once you’re in the car and buckled, she puts the gear in drive and slowly makes her way out of the parking lot. 
“W-where are we going?” You question, far more perplexed than you were before. She takes a left out of the lot, leaving campus altogether. “Nat, we have class, remember? Women in Literature? We need to be there in less than ten minutes!”
She smirks as she continues to drive further away, ignoring your concerns about class. “Hello?” You try waving your hand near her face to get her attention, to which she only turns to you and smiles. 
She stops at the red light, completely tuning you out as she digs into her purse, retrieves her phone, and scrolls through her Spotify playlist. After a moment, she chooses Stay High by Brittany Howard. As the smooth melody fills the car, she bobs her head in time with the beat. The light turns green, and she drives forward, her focus entirely on the music.
You can’t help but laugh at whatever she’s planning, but the potential of missing class is certainly gnawing at you. She, however, appears completely unfazed — dancing to the music, belting out the lyrics, carrying on as if you’re not here at all.
“Natalia Deloris!” You do something you hate other people to do, and you reach for the volume button to turn the music down. “Stop ignoring me! What are you doing?”
She says nothing as she stops in front of the Kerrytown Market & Shops, tossing the gear in park and pressing the button that turns off the ignition. 
“Listen,” she says, taking off her seatbelt and facing you, smiling at your clearly confused expression. “There’s no forgiving you, because what happened doesn’t require forgiving.” She pushes her glasses up to sit on top of her curls, against her messy bun that somehow enhances her striking features even more. “I’m not mad at you, dude. I get it. I just worry about you.” She lets out a soft sigh, her fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry that I’m a little harsh with my love sometimes. I don’t always think about how to say things before they come flying out of my mouth.”
That is certainly true of her, but you love it. Her extroverted nature is something you truly adore, as well her tendency to love so hard that she sometimes can’t hold it back. Every introvert needs their extrovert, and you’re so happy that you are her chosen introvert. 
“I’m sorry if I don’t show you enough how grateful I am for you, Nat,” you say as you stare down at your lap, knowing all too well that you have a hard time accepting when someone truly loves you. Which means, to you, it doesn’t always feel real. So, you don’t show nearly as much appreciation for it as you should. “But, can I ask you a really important question?”
“Don’t, babe. I know you’re grateful. And yes, of course,” she says as she’s putting her phone in her purse and zipping it shut.
“Why the hell are we at Kerrytown and not in class?”
“Told Dr. Lacey we were with each other over the weekend and that we’ve both come down with horrible colds,” she says, sounding as though she really believes herself. 
“What? Why would you do that?” You ask, shocked though, a little relieved to not have to worry about that class today. 
“Decided we could use the morning for a little girl's day.” She gets out of the car and you quickly follow suit. “You’re going shopping with me. It’s the least you can do after your little trick you pulled on me this morning,” she says with a stone face, though her contagious smile is breaking through her facade as she begins walking towards a boutique.
“You are such a hypocrite, Natalia!” 
She stops mid-stride to the store, turning on her heel to look at you. “How the hell am I a hypocrite?” 
“You were so upset with me for lying, and you lied to get us out of class!”
She starts to say something in retaliation, but before she does, she ponders what you’ve said, grinning when she realizes. “You may be right about that,” she says, once again taking steps in the direction of the store. “But my lie was better and benefited both of us.”
You roll your eyes, chuckling at the fact that she will always have the last word. “You got me there, babe.”
⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎
You’ve been laying on the floor in the middle of your room for, what you think, has been well over an hour.
Flat on your back. Leaky eyes staring at the ceiling, tears falling past your ears, wetting the hair behind them. 
Before you found yourself here, you were trapped by your own hand in the bathroom, doing everything you could to bring your dinner back up. Everything. But nothing worked. 
The intense fullness from the salmon bowl you made sent you careening down a massive spiral. You knew you’d feel this way after you took the first bite of the perfectly baked, buttery fish. 
But goddamnit. It tasted so good. So fucking good. And you’d been craving it all day. It was all you could think about. It’s one of the few dishes you’re truly skilled at making, and you certainly proved that tonight. It was the best it's ever tasted.
That’s why you just couldn’t put it down. The first bite turned into a second, then a third, and before you knew it, you’d finished the whole fucking bowl full of rice, steamed broccoli, and the best salmon your hands have ever prepared. 
It made you feel good at the time. Each bite was just as delicious as the last, garlicky and lemon pepper seasoned to near perfection. 
But the stark reality of it all crashed into you the moment you set your empty bowl in the sink to be cleaned. You felt it, felt the thing you despise the most. 
It was the kind of full that made you sleepy, groggy. Your skin felt greasy, your arms felt huge. Your face felt puffy. 
And your stomach was bloated. More bloated than you’ve felt in a very long time. It felt like a rock sitting beneath your skin.
The shame was instant. The guilt came shortly after, but greeted you even stronger than the shame. 
Once you helped your mom into bed, you locked yourself in the bathroom. And you did something you shouldn’t have done — you looked. 
I look fucking pregnant, you thought, your fingers gripping tightly at the protruding flesh. There was no amount you could’ve sucked in to mask it. It was just there, taunting you with the reminder that you did that to yourself.
And then, it began. 
The manic research on your phone of ways to get rid of the bloat, how to digest your food quicker. Every site said the same things – consume less salt, drink hot tea, avoid processed foods, don’t eat too quickly. 
You didn’t have any tea in your kitchen, and the rest of the tips, well…it was just too late to avoid those things. The damage had already been done.
So, when none of those options were possible, your mind took a much darker turn. 
You tried to do it. You did what you knew would trigger your gag reflex, but it just didn’t work. You couldn’t get your finger back far enough, couldn’t keep it there long enough for anything to happen. 
So, you turned to your phone again, typing something in the search bar that you’ve never felt the need to type before. 
How can you make yourself throw up? 
Your thumbs typed as fast as they could. In part because you were shameful over what you were typing, and because you were desperate for reprieve from the far more profound shame over eating so much. 
But the first thing that you saw upon your search inquiry was something you weren’t prepared for, something that forced you into a much different reality than you wanted to face.
It was the website to the National Eating Disorders Association, with the words Get Help attached to the link below it. 
It scared you. You didn’t expect it. And it certainly stopped you, your thumbs held frozen above the link that begged you to click on it.
But you didn’t. Couldn’t. 
You’re not that far gone that you have to seek help in that way…right? 
Defeat overshadowed the shame as you slumped yourself down on the bathroom floor, letting your phone crash against the ceramic tile. 
And you cried. You sobbed. Harder than you’ve ever sobbed before. 
And you let yourself do it. You needed to do it. There wasn’t anything left to do. 
Minutes went by. Several of them. But exactly how many, you don't know. You didn’t keep track. The tears just kept coming, and you were in no place to stop them. They were old tears that you never allowed to be shed, and new tears that needed to join them. 
They were tears from the nine year old you that grew breasts before anyone else in her class and was bullied over it. Tears from the eleven year old you that discovered she could skip the breakfast her dad made in the mornings if she slept in just a few minutes later. Tears from the thirteen year old you that began skipping lunch everyday at school. Tears from the sixteen year old you that was told she was severely anemic from malnutrition and needed the highest dose of iron supplements her doctor was able to prescribe. Tears from the eighteen year old you that refused to take senior pictures because she hated the way she looked. Tears from the nineteen year old you who was told there was a slim chance she’d ever be able to have children. 
And tears from today you. The you that misses her dad, the you that is tired of people leaving and lying to her, the you that wants so badly to love her body the way Jake did.
The you who’s going to fucking miss him.
When your eyes decided to let up, you slowly stood from the floor, grabbing your phone and heading to your room.
And that’s where you’ve been ever since. Laying here, letting a few stray tears fall as they please. You’ve no control over them anymore. They now choose when to cascade down the sides of your face. And you’ll let them. They need to be shed. 
You want to talk to someone, but at the same time, you don’t. 
You can’t bother anyone with this anymore. Especially Nat, who's probably sick of hearing it by now, and whose voice is currently playing on a continuous loop inside your head. 
“But don’t let him be the only reason you care about yourself. Because what will you do when he leaves, hm?”
She said those words only hours ago. She probably doesn’t want to be bothered with all of this again, twice in a single day. 
No, you can’t do that to her. She shouldn’t have to worry about you, or have to hear about your pathetic triggers again. She’s too good for you, too strong of a woman to be burdened with the likes of you. She would deny that if you told her. She’d tell you she loves you and you’re the best friend she could ask for. But you know she’s too good for you. (And, deep down, she probably knows it, too.)
But more than anything, what's haunting you is the one person you truly want to talk to right now: Jake.
And you can’t do that. 
You can’t just call him up, listen to his voice to make yourself feel better. You can’t  get in your car and drive to his apartment so he can hold you. You can’t let him be the one who saves you, because you won't have that option anymore once he leaves. Just like Nat was trying to get you to understand earlier, that you now understand too well.
And she’s right; what the hell will you do when he leaves if you only try to heal because of him?
But, fuck. He’s the source of your safety — was. You don’t know how you’ll ever find that again. And in moments like these, you need that the most. You can’t even talk to him anymore. 
So, instead of following your heart, you’ll continue to lay here. You’ll lay here as long as you need, keeping your eyes off your body and up towards the ceiling. Letting the tears come and go as the deem necessary. 
Relapses happen. You’ve known that for the majority of your life. 
But this one…this one is different. It’s darker than any other time before. Admitting that, even if  only to yourself, is quite difficult.
And you’re scared you may never be able to pull yourself out of it. Because, while you’ve been able to do that every time before, this time is so very different.
You’ve always been able to do it on your own. But what if…
What if you really need someone by your side this time?
And what if that someone is currently packing his things to move across the world from you?
You want to heal. God knows you do. It’s miserable to live this way. But your fear is that you’re too far gone at this point, that the hope of you ever being able to eat food like a normal person is dwindling with each passing day that you struggle, each year. 
You don’t want to live like this anymore. But you also don’t know anything different. 
It’s a sad reality you’ve had to face for as long as you can remember, and it’s one that you’ve had to confront even more so since you moved here. 
Perhaps there’s a reason for it. 
The tiny optimist in you would like to think that, because this season has been so much more difficult than any other, that means you’re closer to healing than you’ve ever been.
But.
The much larger pessimist in you is fearful that the true reason you’re struggling more than ever is because…
…because this may be your final battle. 
The battle you’re destined to fail. 
⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎
“Why don’t you like this?” Nat asks you, tugging at the green chiffon fabric sitting against your hips. “This looks hot as hell on you.”
“Nat. Are you joking? This looks awful.” The reflection in Nat’s gold framed, full length mirror isn’t one you’re exactly thrilled with. This is the third dress of hers you’ve tried on and nothing is up to your satisfaction. And of all of them, this one is by far the worst. Swamp green, long sleeves made of the most uncomfortable material, and the skirt bunched up at your hips. Not exactly the way you want to look for the premiere tonight.
“I look like Kermit the fucking Frog in this color.” 
She rolls her eyes with an exaggerated groan, waving her arms in defeat. “Well, your highness, I’m just about out of options that meet your royal standards of dress wear for the evening.” She comes behind you to help you unzip the horrid gown she’s put you in. “And Kermit, y/n? You seriously think this makes you like an amphibian with some man's hand stuck up his ass?”
“Uh, yeah. I may as well bring a banjo tonight so I can sing about fucking rainbows.” You pull the dress over your shoulders, instantly scratching your arms once it’s off due to the itchy chiffon that was clinging to your skin. It made you feel suffocated and trapped in its green netting. 
“I’m convinced that you’ll find something wrong with anything that I give you to try on,” she grumbles as you help her put the dress back on its hanger. “I give up! You’re impossible to please.”
“That’s not true! You just have terrible taste in dresses,” you say, laced with sarcasm because it’s certainly not the case. All of these pieces would undoubtedly look amazing on her, just not on you. Though, you’re convinced she could wear just about anything and make it a fashion statement. 
Her outfit for tonight is the epitome of grace and effortless beauty. The soft baby pink of her soft, velvety gown perfectly compliments her glowing caramel complexion. It hugs her body beautifully, and the off-the-shoulder neckline seems designed just for her, highlighting her elegant physique. Her natural curls, sitting just above her collar bone, are lustrous and full of body. It’s rare that she wears her hair down, but you love it when she does. Her gorgeous curls only enhance her striking presence. She truly is one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen. 
“I really think you should just wear this one, babe.” She points to the dress you brought to her place with you. The one that’s laying across her bed, the red dress Jake bought you. It’s the nicest thing you own, and you love the way it looks on you. But, wearing it tonight feels weird. It was purchased specifically for your date, and what it now symbolizes for you is deeper than just the gorgeous, satin dress you wore for your birthday. 
“You don’t think it’ll be weird? I mean, considering it’s —,”
“It will not be weird.” She interjects your thoughts as she takes the dress from her bed and holds it out for you. “If anything, seeing you in that sexy number will make him regret ever lying to you in the first place.”
She’s probably right. No, she is right. (You hope, at least.)
And, aside from the fact that this dress makes you feel beautiful, the color is fitting given its significance in the film. 
Deciding to give up on trying on anything else that you know you’ll hate, you slip into the dress and, for the first time tonight, admire your reflection — something you hadn’t done with any of the other gowns you tried.
“Like I said before, babe,” Nat says, fetching her black faux fur shawl she had you try earlier in the evening with something else. You despised it then, but with this dress, it’s altogether different. “This dress was made for you. I mean, look at your ass!” She looks you up and down, biting the knuckle of her index finger, shaking her head in disbelief. 
Your face, completely flushed as you giggle at her remark and contort your body to see what she sees. There is a rather pronounced, rounded curve, the material and fit of the dress accentuating the shape. But, it’s not that impressive. At least not enough to warrant her reaction.
She drapes the shawl over your shoulders, pulling it snuggly around the front. The soft, textured fur frames your neckline in a graceful v-shape, elegantly cascading from your back and delicately covering your upper arms, leaving the tops of your shoulders exposed. It's timeless, and so classy. More than that, it promises to shield you from the biting, Michigan air as this dress wasn’t exactly made for such temperatures. “I love this,” you say, running your fingers over the soft warmth of the faux fur. “It really dresses it up, doesn’t it?” 
The confidence in her I told you so smile says she knew all along that this would look as good as it does. “You should never doubt my stylistic abilities.” She heads to her closet, bringing out a shawl that almost identically matches yours, only hers it white. A gorgeous fit with the baby pink color of her gown. Her beauty is simply impossible to ignore.
“You‘re so beautiful, Nat.” She smiles, her perfect teeth whiter than the shawl she’s draping over her shoulders. 
“So are you, my gorgeous bestie,” she says as she grabs her liquid lipstick to put on one more coat before Danny gets here.
As you watch her paint her lips, you remember the lipstick you brought that you had planned to wear. And, it’s no coincidence that it’s the very same one you wore for your portrayal of Guiniverre. You grab your cross body from her bed and rummage through it to find the lipstick. And as you’re doing that, you’re reminded of one more thing you brought — the sword necklace. You’re considering wearing it, but only for the sake of the film. (Part of you is clinging to the hope that Jake will wear his, too.)
Standing next to Natalia in front of the mirror, you quickly coat your lips in the scarlet shade, using your finger to blot the excess and clean up the sides. “Oh that color is perfect,” Nat says as she’s finishing up her own lips. She makes a kissy face in the mirror once she’s done, leaning over like she’s about to plant one on your cheek until her phone begins ringing. 
“I bet that’s my Prince Charming ready to whisk us away to the royal ball,” she says, tilting her chin upward in a regal pose, waving her hand in as though she were a true Princess. “You ready, babe?”
Mimicking her royal stance, you link arms with her and practice your very own Princess wave, thinking of the way Princess Mia learns to do it in The Princess Diaries. “Thou art ready,” you say, in your best (albeit, horrible) British accent. (Jake would certainly be disappointed.)
As you’re heading out of her room, walking arm in arm to the front door, you’ve suddenly remembered something you forgot. “One sec,” you say as you unlink your arm from hers. “I left something in my bag. You go ahead and go out, I’ll be there in a minute.”
She dances her way out of the door, humming some tune that sounds like something from a Disney movie. “Don’t keep us waiting, darling! The King anticipates our arrival!” 
Walking as fast as your heels will allow, you reach her room and grab your bag sitting on her bed. The sword charm is the first thing you see as you unzip it, and without much of a thought, you pull it out, placing it around your neck. 
The clasp is tricky without someone to help you, but after a few tries, it’s finally secured. 
After one more glance in the mirror, finger combing your bangs and adjusting the necklace so it sits just right against your chest, you decide it’s the perfect final touch. 
And with that, you head out the door to begin what you’re certain will be an unforgettable evening. (For many, many reasons.)
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The neon lights reading ‘FOX’ can be seen blocks away from the building they’re lit against, practically blinding against the stark contrast of the night sky. Glorious reds and blues glow with the sparkling stars, illuminating the city with their gleam. It’s an incredible sight to behold, adding to the seemingly endless reasons you’ve fallen madly in love with this city. 
“Wait, is that where we’re going?” You ask as Danny makes a sharp turn on Woodward avenue, coming closer to the theatre and essentially answering your question as he pulls into the private parking lot across from those neon lights you’d been eyeing for several minutes. 
“I’m so excited to finally see this place,” Nat says, her voice high in pitch as Danny shifts the car into park. 
You knew the viewing of the film would be at least a little more formal than your typical classroom presentation, but you weren’t prepared at all for this.
Formal is indeed the correct word. It’s comparable to a Hollywood premiere – not that you’ve ever been to one, or anything close to one, but this certainly feels like something you’ve seen in the movies a time or two.
Josh wasn’t bullshitting when he told you to go all out with your attire; everyone is dressed to the nines. Gowns and suits, a true black tie affair. You’re suddenly feeling more grateful than ever that Jake bought you this dress. There’s not a thing in your wardrobe that would fit the bill for a night like this. 
There are a few students walking in that you recognize, but for the most part, it feels almost too official for a collegiate event. You didn’t realize anything of this grandeur existed within the realms of the U of M. Apparently, this is an annual thing, just before the end of the Fall semester. 
Keeping strictly in the English department, Natalia’s never been to one as you either have to be exclusively invited or a film student. She’s always wanted to experience it, so Josh made sure she’d get the chance to come, even though she wasn’t part of the film. She’s one of the VIP guests for the night, listed right along with the cast and crew of the film. Her eyes are practically as bright as the neon colors in the theatre’s sign as she steps out of the car, taking it all in as this was her very last chance to attend one of these things. 
Enhancing the Hollywood-esqu aura, a lush green velvet carpet stretches up the stairs to the entrance, illuminated by spotlights that guide your way. You may as well be a beloved film star, gracefully making her way across the grand carpet to the premiere of a highly anticipated movie directed by the industry's biggest names. That's certainly how it feels, at least. And while this event may not have the global scale of a blockbuster premiere, you are, in essence, the star of one of the films being showcased tonight. College film or not, tonight, you truly feel like you might be someone special.
“Holy fuck,” Nat mutters under her breath as the two of you take anxious steps along the carpet together with your arms linked together and clutching your shawls in the wake of the cold air, Daniel towing closely behind. “This is…insane, right? 
She took the words right out of your mouth. “That’s putting it lightly, Nat.” 
“I think I’m a little underdressed,” Danny giggles as you get closer to the two ushers in full tuxedos, coat tails and all, greeting you as you approach the doors. 
“Welcome to The Fox, ladies,” one of them says before noticing the tall man in a black turtleneck and maroon slacks following behind you, awkwardly waving to get their attention. “My apologies,” he continues. “And gentleman.” They each open the doors on their respective sides, and when you catch the first glimpse of what’s behind them, your breath is completely sucked away from your lungs. You’ve never seen anything more magnificent in all of your life. 
East Asian architecture is an art deco lover's dream. The colors are so full, so rich, mimicking the ones glowing on the outside of the building. The intricately designed ceilings, golden and lined with chandeliers, practically reach the height of the stars. 
Another staircase, with statues of lions with jeweled eyes guarding the base of the railings, is in front of you, leading where you can only assume will hold the evening's main event. The only thing you can think to compare it to is the grand staircase depicted in the Titanic, though you’ve got a feeling this may be even more majestic than anything James Cameron could ever hope to produce. 
“Pretty sweet, isn't it?” Danny says, standing behind the two of you with a hand on each of your shoulders as you’re both left awe-struck by the vision before you. “Been to quite a few musicals here with my family. I promise you, it’s just as beautiful every time I see it.” 
Approaching you is yet another usher, dressed in full black tie with a clipboard held in his hands. After greeting the three of you, he glances down at the list attached to the clipboard, taking his pen and making marks. “You’re here as guests of Mr. Kiszka, I presume?” He asks, as though he’d been waiting on the three of you to arrive. He smiles  as you each confirm, making one last mark on his list. “Right this way.”
With that, you’re led up the grand set of stairs. Nat takes your arm once more, giggling as Danny is stuck walking behind you two again. 
There are hundreds of seats with gold crowning, upholstered with red velvet, facing a giant screen that’s framed by a curtain the same shade of red as the seats. 
This is certainly not the kind of theater you had in mind when Josh explained what tonight would entail. You expected a classic AMC or a Regal. Not this. 
The theaters back home are nothing like this one. In the almost six months you’ve lived here, you’d never once driven by the Fox Theatre. It was forty minutes away from your home in Ann Arbor, but still. You’d never even heard of it, which is mind boggling considering the sheer history this place must have. Apparently, this place is quite the home for the prestige around here. This city will never stop surprising you, and you fall in love with it a little more each day. 
The usher has led you all the way to the first row of the orchestra pit that’s blocked off with red ribbon, a sign reading "Reserved” attached to them. Each seat has a name card on it, and once you find yours, you’re appalled when you read the names on the seats yours is between. 
Samuel Kiszka on your left, Jacob Kiszka on your right. 
While you’re not entirely certain, you do have a pretty good feeling you know who’s behind this.
Thank you, Joshua. 
Jake and Sam aren’t here yet, of course. Nor is your director and his partner. The Kiszkas are notorious for showing up at least a little late everywhere they go, but you thought for sure they’d break that late streak for tonight of all nights. But, no. They have yet to make their grand arrival. And that is only serving to heighten your already shot-to-hell nerves. Not knowing when Jake and Sam will be here, if they’ll show up together, what their reactions to this little seating arrangement will be that you will get to witness first hand. 
Aside from all of that, the thing that’s really tying your nerves in knots is what Jake will be wearing tonight. Something regal, you’re sure. He’ll no doubt sport his necklaces, maybe a hat. Perhaps he’ll wear something all black – your ultimate weakness – sleek, irresistibly sexy…
Fuck. Just thinking about it makes your core ache, but also hurts your heart with just as much intensity given the circumstances with him right now. 
And then, there’s Sammy, who will be on the other side of you all evening. He elicits an entirely different set of emotions from you. Emotions that are just as complicated as the ones you feel with Jake, but in ways that are completely unique to Sam. 
Jesus. Though you know it’s an unrealistic wish, you hope that somehow the two of them just decide to not show up tonight, save you some of the agony of sitting right in the middle of them. But, you know them both better than that. They wouldn’t dare miss an opportunity to support their brother. And that’s why you are here, too. To cheer on Josh, to show him the love and admiration he deserves after pouring all of himself into this film.  
You’re just so grateful to be a part of it. The fact that it’s all coming to an end tonight dares to bring a few tears to your eyes. 
“Bitch,” Nat whispers as she takes her seat next to the empty one that will be Sammy’s, throwing you a look after reading the names on either side of you. Her hand flies up to her mulled wine-painted lips, muffling a laugh at the pure irony of the situation and the discomfort you’re sure is evident in your features. 
Danny, already seated in his assigned chair near the end of the row next to Nat, leans over her to see what the fuss is all about. And when he realizes it, he is having a hard time not laughing at the matter as well. “Big yikes,” he giggles. 
“Stop it,” you mumble through gritted teeth, deciding to simply pretend like everything is normal. You want to make things the least awkward they can possibly be when they arrive and discover the situation for themselves. 
“Hi, girlies!” You hear in a familiar, high-pitched voice. One that you should’ve expected to hear given her involvement with the film, though you truly hadn’t thought about that possibility until this very moment. 
And, here she is. Floor length, completely sequined gown of vibrant pink, a slit running all the way up to her bronzed, smooth thigh. The bust is strapless, of course, and her boobs are basically pushed up to her fucking chin. Her platinum locks are curled and feathered to near perfection, her makeup without a single flaw against her already unblemished skin. And a glance behind where she’s standing realizes a fear you didn’t prepare yourself to have tonight – her name is taped to the seat on the other side of where Jake will be sitting. 
So, suffice to say, this little seating arrangement is probably the worst way to have placed everyone. 
Josh on the end next to the aisle, then Malachi, Danny, Nat, Sam, you, Jake, and Stacy. You certainly don’t hate the universe, but you do wish it would align a little more in your favor from time to time. 
“Hi, Stac,” you say as you plop yourself in your seat, feeling the weight of dread over what events the next few hours will bring. “You look beautiful tonight.” 
The words felt like fire against your tongue. But, they’re quite true. And no matter how you feel about her, she deserves to know she looks incredible. Suddenly, you’re feeling like you don’t quite measure up. A familiar feeling, one you wish you weren’t experiencing tonight. 
Stacy’s glossed lips become stretched over her pearly teeth in a huge smile as she takes her seat, smoothing down a few sequins and pushing her boobs up even more as she does so. “Awe, thanks, y/n!” She says, almost as though she was expecting the praise. She wasn’t surprised by your compliment, at least. That much is evident in her I know, don’t I? tone of voice.
You glance over at Natalia to gauge her thoughts on the interaction, and to no surprise, her lips are pursed tightly, as if to force them shut so she won’t say what’s truly on her mind. Which is almost always a good thing. She’s one of the sweetest souls you’ve ever encountered, but she can be quite ruthless when she wants to be – not all of her thoughts should be vocalized. And when they are, someone will end up with sore feelings. But, she means well. Most of the time. 
There’s only ten twenty minutes until this thing is set to begin, and still no sign of a single Kiszka. While you’re not happily anticipating Sam and Jake’s arrivals, you are beginning to worry a bit about whether Josh and Malachi will make it on time. It is his big night, afterall. Showing up late may not be the best look to all of these scholarship funders, with their pockets full of a promising future for only a few of these anxious students presenting tonight. 
Josh always pulls through, you know that. He will be here. It may be nearing the very last second that he makes his grand appearance, but he’ll do it in style. Stylishly late. 
 “Nat,” you quietly mutter, a failed attempt at getting her attention as she’s whispering in Danny’s ear, the two of them giggling like two kids who’ve just said something they really shouldn’t have. 
They’re adorable. And nauseating. 
“Natalia Delores!” Your voice has a bit more umph behind it this time, enough that her and Danny both now have your attention. Her face says she’s definitely annoyed by your interruption, but you can’t be bothered with that at the moment. 
“What, y/n?” She responds, matching your tone almost perfectly.
“Do you think they’d be mad if I switched spots with Sa–,” 
“Here we are, sir.” 
“Ah, thank you, good man!” 
“What’s up, Sammy?” Danny says, lifting from his seat to greet his friend with a full body hug, offering a playful tap to his ass. “Handsome fucker,” he jokes. “You get all dressed up for me?” 
One thing you’ll never deny is just how sexy Sam is. He’s gorgeous. He truly does look handsome as hell tonight. He’s donning a full red suit, tailored flawlessly to his physique. Tight in all the right places. 
And, he’s matching you. The hue of his suit is an almost exact compliment to your dress. There’s no way he would’ve known what you had planned to wear, so it’s most definitely not on purpose. 
But, Jake may not believe that. He just might think it was a deliberate choice for you two to match. And there’s a chance he’ll even be a little angry about that presumption. 
Good. 
You’ve always known Sam to have a rather eccentric sense of style, but he always makes it work. His style is so very much him. Most probably wouldn’t be able to pull off a suit of this shade, but he just does. He can make anything look good. Anything. 
“Only for you,” Sammy winks as he shimmies his way down the row in search of his seat, Nat standing to give him more room down the narrow way. 
“You’re right here,” she says, pointing to his name taped on the back rest. “Right next to y/n.” She looks to you, noting the horror in expression you’re sure your features are screaming. You mouth out the words Thanks, Nat and she chuckles, blowing you a kiss for forgiveness that you can’t help but smile at. Fucking brat. 
“Y/n! Look at you!” Sam nearly shouts, leaning down and taking your hand, forcing you to stand up. He pulls you in for a deep hug, holding you close for a few seconds longer than what most would deem appropriate. “I like that we match,” he whispers in your ear, meant only for you to hear. His lips just barely ghost the skin beneath your earring. Every inch of your skin rises in goosebumps, your heart fluttering. 
“Th-thank you, Sam,” you stutter, keeping your voice as hushed as his. He leans away, breaking the hug and letting you see the smile across his lips. His grin urges one from you, too. His smile is always contagious. 
He pats your arm, then moves to sit down. And just as you’re about to take your seat once more, a well-known cologne overwhelms you, a sexy, captivating scent of musky sandalwood that you recognize all too well as… 
“Jake!” Danny shouts, echoing across the acoustics as he leaps out of his seat yet again to embrace his friend. “Looking snazzy as ever, I see.” He pats his exposed chest, twiddling with the lapel of his suit’s jacket. Even as Danny’s hand slides down the lapel, your eyes stay firmly planted on the tanned skin of his chest and abdomen. “Where the hell’d you find this?” 
Jake’s famous giggle leaves his smiling lips, his teeth sparkling white against the contrast of his all black garb. “Malachi dug through endless trenches to find it for me.” He brushes at each of his shoulders, adjusting the waist of the jacket as he straightens his posture. “Found it a rather fitting piece for the night,” he says, pursing his lips through a smug grin, acting as though he’s the true belle of the ball.
And you are in an even worse predicament than you’d thought you’d be in.
Nat’s eyes almost instantly find yours. Hers are wide and smiling, faux sympathy for you laced in her golden irises. 
You’d already prepared yourself for the chance of him showing up in something that would leave your knees weak and your skin on fire. But nothing could’ve prepared you for what you’re witnessing right now. 
“Is that hand sewn?” Nat asks, standing from her seat to give Jake some room to head down the row in search of his seat. He nods his head to confirm what she already knows, scooching his way through as you’re practically frozen in your seat, watching him get closer and closer to you. Your eyes are glued to the impeccable way his expensive, straight-leg, black satin slacks hug his round ass. The suit might as well have been made for his beautiful body.
“You know your brother finds only the pinnacle of clothing. He wouldn’t have let me show up in anything less than the absolute best quality.” 
“He doesn’t do that shit for me, damn,” Nat snarls as he passes her, his back just slightly brushing against her, then walking slowly past Sam. You’re certain it’s on purpose, but he’s avoided all eye contact with you thus far. And you’re mentally thanking whoever the hell you need to thank for that, because it would absolutely make things all the more awkward. 
But you can’t seem to move yourself from your chair when he turns around finally, body no longer turned towards the front to get through. No, he’s now facing your row of seats. And your poor legs can’t handle his proximity, feeling numb at the fact that he’s now so close to you. The thick silvery stitching embroidered on this suit jacket, in the image of a sword piercing his chest, dark red stones, the color of blood, dripping from the blade, are blinding against the black satin they’re embedded in. It’s the beginning of December – the temperatures are frigid. Yet, his jacket is completely open, exposing his toned (and unseasonably tanned) chest, his tummy, all the things about his body that make your head spin. 
And, no surprise, he has quite the collection of coins hanging against his bare skin. Some that you’ve seen him wear many times, some that you haven’t. But there’s something noticeably missing. 
He’s not wearing the sword tonight, and you are. And you know he sees it. His eyes confirm that as they’re staring directly at your chest where the necklace rests. 
You’re embarrassed that you’re wearing it, wishing you would’ve just left it in your purse. Or, better yet, left it at home. There’s no way to know what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling. But if you had to guess, his thoughts aren’t exactly happy ones at the sight of you wearing the dress he bought and the necklace that matches his own that he deliberately chose not to wear. 
The air becomes trapped in your throat as he approaches you, his eyes flitting to yours for the first time tonight. Damn this theatre for not having enough space in the rows of chairs – he can’t get past you, so you have to stand in order for him to reach his seat. 
But you’re still stuck. Stuck in fear, in hurt feelings, stuck in awe of him. 
How are you supposed to stand when the feeling in your legs has essentially vanished? 
How are you still feeling this way about him after he lied to you?
As his eyes are still fixed on yours, he takes the last step towards you. He reaches his right hand down to yours, holding his palm up and open, ready for you to place yours inside. 
What – ?
Tentatively, hearing nothing but the erratic beating of your heart pounding in your ears, you take his hand. He helps you out of your seat, his dark eyes keeping tight hold of yours. 
You suck in a breath as he begins to walk past you, not speaking a word. With the way he’s now turned, you can’t help but notice… unlike everyone else he’s just walked by, his back isn’t facing you – it’s the front of his body slowly gliding past you. He’s so warm, so sturdy. And you feel all of him. And while you may never get to feel him inside of you ever again, you can certainly feel his cock pressed against your front. It’s taking every ounce of strength you’ve got to not let on to what it’s doing to you. The throbbing in your core is enough to make you want to take him right here. And while you certainly shan’t do that, you can at least play out the scenario safely in your thoughts. 
His right hand still has yours in his grip, while his left gently grabs your hip. His hand slides down as he fully passes you, his thumb just barely skimming the top of your thigh. His fingertips linger for just a moment longer, before finally letting go of your hand. It’s then he discovers where his seat for the night is, and you can see the slight downward curl in his lips as he realizes. 
Now you’re left to wonder – was the indication of disgust over you or Stacy? 
Her squeaking voice pierces your ears as she greets him, having no problem standing to pull him into a hug. Something you couldn’t bring yourself to do. 
There’s a tightening in the pit of your stomach as you sit back down, feeling far too many things all at once right now. He does look irritated as he’s hugging her back. But, he’s still hugging her. You know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t hold the embrace any longer if he didn’t have reason behind it. It could be to make you jealous, (a trick you’re all too familiar with) or, worse, it’s because he wants to keep hugging her.
Either way, you’re mortified by it. And if you didn’t have as much self-discipline as you thankfully do, you would've used that moment to unleash all your true feelings about her, to her. Just as you should’ve done a long ass time ago. 
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“Are you excited to watch this?” Sam asks, throwing a sly wink and nudging your shoulder with his. “I bet we look pretty hot,” he giggles, his famous laugh that forces one from you. No matter how much you don’t feel like laughing right now. Sam can always make you crack a smile. 
You look to Jake out of your peripheral to gauge whether he’s listening or not. He’s sitting stone cold on the other side of you, completely still, looking only at the stage that is set and ready to proceed with tonight's events. 
He’s still not spoken a word to you. But to be fair, you’ve not said anything to him either. It hurts. It feels like absolute shit. It’s almost like everything wonderful that happened between the two of you never truly happened at all. The slate has been wiped clean, like you’re in the very same place you were with him when you first moved here. 
But, the unfortunate part about that is, there’s a painful history there now… where there wasn’t one before. 
You almost wish you could go back in time, rewrite the story of you and Jake and take out all of the beautiful things you shared. At least then you wouldn’t have this weight settled between you two as you’re sat very close to one another. The problems you two had would have remained unspoken and left as nothing more than a mutual hatred. 
But, nope. That wasn’t what the stars had written for you. 
In truth, he should be your date this evening, your other half as you watch the very thing that brought the two of you together, reminiscing about the last few months spent pouring yourselves into this massive project. Instead, you’re both acting as if the other doesn’t exist to either of you anymore. Heavy silence is all that is left. 
And that feels like shit. 
But, at least you’ve got Sam. And no matter the situation, he’s a bright light and a calming spirit, one that is able to calm yours at this very moment. 
“Oh, yes. I know we look hot,” you respond, speaking loud enough that hopefully Jake heard you. Is it absolutely shitty of you? Yes, yes it is. But at least you can admit that. And at least you know it’s sure to ignite a fire in him, get the wheels in his head turning. Maybe even force him to speak to you. Because god knows you will not be the first one to break the ice tonight. Nope. He can do that if he really wants to. 
You sneakily glance over to him just to see if he’s wearing any sort of reaction on his cold features. 
But, alas, nothing. He’s still staring at the stage, as if his glare will make this whole thing begin that much sooner. 
And that thought makes you realize that Josh and Malachi are still not here. The masterminds behind this whole thing, and they are cutting it way too close for comfort.
Leaning over Sam, you reach for Nat’s arm, tapping her until she looks at you. “Where are they?” You ask, motioning toward the two empty seats at the end of your aisle. 
Nat shrugs her shoulders, lifting her hands up. “Fuck if I know,” she says. “Josh probably spent over an hour figuring out what to wear, my brother probably had to have at least five outfits prepared for him to try on a hundred times before he decided on something.” 
“Fucking diva,” Sam mumbles under his breath, chuckling to himself. 
“He is the definition of diva,” Nat confirms. “Beyonce’s got nothing on that man. And Malachi does nothing but encourage it.” 
“Speak of the diva himself,” Danny chimes in, looking over his shoulder as Josh is practically flying down the green carpet toward you all, Malachi speed walking close behind. 
All of you have now turned your attention toward him, and he stops just before he makes it to the seats to put on a dramatic curtsey, one from each side of his body. 
Now you understand what took them so long. 
He’s dressed in full sparkle. Head to toe. Literally. 
As he approaches his seat, you note the elaborate pattern of rhinestones glued around his black tight-lined eyes. His cheeks are glowing with an iridescent highlight that the bright lights of the theater accentuate gorgeously. 
And his jumpsuit. It’s truly unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Full velvet, with a jacket of the most intricate designs you’ve ever seen sewn with beads and jewels. It almost perfectly mimics the iridescent color on his cheeks. Each time he moves, you see pinks and lavenders in the material. Even some blues as he gets closer. And, as a reminder that he and Jake are in fact twins, the neckline is taking quite the plunge down his chest, hitting just below his sternum. 
These boys must never get cold, you ponder.
He looks absolutely immaculate. Not that you expected anything less, but still. Josh is the best kind of unexpected. This man always keeps you on your toes, never knowing his next extraordinary move. The traits of a true, professional director who creates the most revered and timeless pieces. 
Malachi compliments him beautifully with his black velvet tux. And god, he looks handsome, too. They both pulled out all of the stops. It looks like they both got fresh haircuts, their facial hair cleaned up and shaped. They are absolutely gorgeous, and it makes you so indescribably happy to see them like this on what very well could be the night that lays the foundation for something even bigger for them. Especially for Josh. 
If you know anything about film (and you’re pretty sure you do), you have no doubt that this one will be a crowd favorite. No doubt that it should open every door possible for Josh to have a future in this business. Which he very much deserves. 
The house lights begin dimming just as Josh and Chi are taking their seats, proving that they truly did make it just in time. How on earth they did that is nothing short of a damn miracle. 
A spotlight hits the master of ceremonies, a tall man without a single hair on his head, appears from behind the velvet curtain to thunderous applause from more than a hundred excited film students. Josh whistles through his fingers, and you’re impressed by how loud he is. While you don’t recognize this man, almost everyone else in this room certainly seems to adore him. “Welcome, my dear students and guests, to the annual University of Michigan Film Fest,” he boldly announces through the microphone. “As many of you know, my name is Dr. Steven Turner, and I am the department head for our film studies program on campus.”
After more applause, and more whistling from Josh, Dr. Turner waits for everyone to quiet down before he announces the films that will be presented. There are only three films that will be shown in their entirety tonight, one of them being Les Sombres Intrigues de Guenièvre et Arthur, under the direction of the one and only Josh M. Kiszka. 
You felt the thumping of your heart when Dr. Turner said the (very long) name of your film, and it’s truly beginning to settle in that you'll be watching yourself on the screen tonight. And so will everyone else. A crashing wave of anxiety courses through your veins at the thought, tingling under your skin. Your tummy is twisted in knots, your leg bouncing with nerves. There’s no turning back now.
“At long last, I present to you our first film of the night,” Dr. Turner declares, and you’re silently praying and pleading that Josh’s film isn’t first. You need time to prepare yourself before you watch it like this.  “Written, produced, and directed by senior Josh M. Kiszka,” 
Fuck. 
“Please enjoy the debut of his first short-film, Les Sombres Intrigues de Guenièvre et Arthur.”
As he exits stage left, the spotlight begins dimming until it’s gone. Then, the curtain begins to lift, revealing a huge projection screen. Suddenly, it displays the title card of Josh’s film in an elaborate red font against a stark black background. 
This is it. 
Your whole body begins trembling with unease. The knots in your stomach have turned into pure nausea that you’re trying your hardest to swallow down. But, as the image on the screen shifts to the opening sequence, the beautiful drone footage Josh captured of the mountains, your throat suddenly becomes too dry to swallow. 
At this point, the entire row must be shaking from your bouncing leg. You can’t help it. You’ve seen yourself in this film, but you’ve not seen it like this. On a humongous screen and in front of over a hundred people, no less. You’re fearful of their judgements, what they’ll think of you playing the Queen. 
The opening footage starts to fade out, and the first thing that fades in – The Queen. In full color, she’s dressed in the deep, red gown, the first costume you had tried on. As the angle widens, Lancelot, in his white velvet top and red cape, is seen standing across from her in their secret spot hidden in the middle of the forest. They stare into each other's eyes, longingly. Hopelessly and forbiddenly in love with one another. 
Lancelot, Sam, begins to speak his first lines, the first of the entire film. 
“My love. I accept this token and will wear it as I carry you with me, that with it wrapped around my arm, so as you are wrapped even tighter around my heart.”
And then, the Queen, you.
“With it carries the promise you will return to me, unmarked and whole. Again will you lie with me, again will you hold me as tightly as my token holds you.”
As you’re watching yourself on this screen that is larger than your entire apartment complex, your leg continues to bounce, your teeth biting at your brittle nails. It’s only the beginning; there’s still so much left of this film to witness, and you’re not sure you can find the strength in you to keep watching. If seeing yourself like this has you ready to run out of this theater and never look back, how the hell will you be able to sit through what’s to come?
No. You can’t do it. You’ll ask Josh to forgive you later, but right now, you have to get out of here. As you uncross your legs, readying yourself to make a quick and hopefully unnoticed exit, you feel a warm hand against your trembling thigh. Your right thigh. The side Jake is on. 
With a downward glance to your lap, you see the hand you’ve come to know quite well as his. You’d know those hands anywhere. There’s no doubt you’d be able to recognize them instantly, even without seeing his face. 
Your leg has stopped bouncing, and your body begins to relax as you no longer feel the desire to escape. You feel like you can breathe again, all from the most gentle, grounding touch from someone you’re supposed to hate right now. At least, you think you’re supposed to. 
Without being able to stop yourself, you look at his face as he’s absorbedly studying the screen. His lips are parted just slightly, his brows carefully knit as he’s focusing his attention on his twins project. All at once, as though he really wasn’t paying as close attention as you thought, he looks down at his hand that’s still resting against your thigh. And once he realizes, he removes it. 
“Sorry,” he whispers, still peering down where his hand once was. “I didn’t mean to, I just, I knew you were –,” he stammers, his raspy voice hushed and soft so as to not disturb any viewers. He takes a deep breath, the hand that was on your thigh rubbing at his lower chin. “You look beautiful,” he sighs, looking back to the screen. 
Whether he’s referring to you on film, or right now, you can’t be sure. Either way, your anxious wave has settled to a warm calm, wrapping you in a quiet embrace.  
“Thank you,” you whisper, and you’re almost certain you see the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 
Though his hand isn’t there to offer you comfort any longer, the effects it left are lasting. As the scene in the forest comes to its end, and as the big first kiss is taking place between the lovers, your nerves have significantly calmed down. You’re still not completely comfortable, but knowing Jake could somehow sense that you needed someone, that you needed him, is giving you a sense of peace over it all. He’s still right next to you, and that’s truly enough to help you get through this. 
“We look pretty good, huh?” Sam whispers, nudging your arm with his elbow. If you were to be completely honest, you had almost forgotten Sam was here. You’ve been so focused on watching yourself on the film, letting your nerves get the best of you before Jake intervened. And, while you’re sitting here between both of them, just as close to one as you are to the other, Jake was the one who noticed you were feeling tense.
Not Sam, whose smile is oblivious while eyeing your shared kiss projected on screen. It was a good kiss; it was a great kiss. You’ll never forget the way it made you feel, the way Sam made you feel. The passion is there in this scene; it’s there in all of your scenes with him. 
But if your memory serves you right, (and you know it does) you were only a convincing actress when Jake was nearby, when he was watching. His very presence ignited something within you, and the only person who could fan the flame at that moment was Sam. So, with every kiss, heavy and full of emotion, you envisioned Jake. Every. Single. Time. And because he lingered in the background for nearly every scene you shot, watching you as you acted with his brother, your performance is far more authentic than you realized — as you were in the moment. Watching it back now, fully edited and being viewed the way it was intended, the affair does appear incredibly believable. 
The heaviest scenes, the ones in black and white have finally been reached. You’re taken aback by how magnificent the editing turned out. On the big screen, it’s an entirely different experience compared to watching it on the laptop. The reds are even more vibrant, more eye-catching and captivating. Every intimate moment between the illicit lovers is a beautiful depiction, where the color red emerges as a poignant symbol of their passionate affair.
But, the beautifully filmed and edited work doesn’t change the fact that you are the one portraying the Queen. No matter how many times you tell yourself that it isn’t really you being pictured across the screen, you still see pieces of yourself that serve as a daunting reminder. As someone who’s never been keen on her appearance, it’s certainly difficult to view yourself in such a manner. You’re just thankful that Josh was so careful in the way he filmed you, and even more mindful of your scenes when it came time to edit. 
As this vigorous affair is unfolding on the screen, it’s becoming more intense than it’s been conveyed in the story thus far. The camera pans the expanse of the Queen's body, clothed in black lace. The gown striking within the noir effect. You’ve almost forgotten entirely that it’s your body, feeling as though the camera has truly made you unrecognizable as y/n. And, you’re okay with that. 
The camera stills on her torso, and suddenly a hand appears just below her rib cage. A widening angle then reveals the Queen in a passionate exchange with Lancelot. Their bodies become tangled, fully engrossed within one another as their love is about to consummate. 
You’re beginning to notice a sharp change in Jake’s breathing. Every time the Queen's lips meet the ones of the King's most trusted companion, you see Jake shift in his seat out of your peripheral vision, breathing heavily through his nose.
You know exactly why. Anxiety begins to creep its way back in as you ruminate on how Jake must be feeling. Watching these intimate moments between the Queen and Lancelot transpire on such a massive display, knowing how he feels about the actors beyond the film. The anxiety is quickly morphing into immense guilt, and a bit of shame. Though you know it’s not your fault, it is certainly making you think of other choices you’ve made as of late. 
This moment in the film is one you remember quite well. And it’s not just because of the contents of the film that you have such a vivid recollection, it’s what happened behind the camera that makes your heart flutter. As the scene progresses with the lovers, the King suddenly makes a dramatic entrance through the doors of the boudoir, bearing witness to his wife’s best kept secret with his second in command. 
You’ve practically stopped breathing at the sight of Jake as the king, wearing the cropped chainmail top and black pants, his sword attached to his hip. He despised the top at the beginning, having an almost visceral reaction when he wore it for the first time. Yet, you remember feeling as though he was the most enchanting vision you'd ever seen before your eyes. That very same feeling is overwhelming you at seeing him wear it again.
As the King begins to speak, the black and white slowly fades away to color, a decision Josh made to symbolize the ending of the forbidden affair. 
“I thought I knew better than to heed Mordred's vile words of my first in command. And yet, I find that I needn’t worry of his lies, only those of my beloved and her dearest, both of whom betray their King.” 
The King’s voice, Jake’s voice, is so deep and raw, vibrating the floor beneath your feet from the power behind it. As he speaks his lines, your mind takes you back to the day this was filmed. Jake was the most angry you had ever seen him, and he placed that energy into the King’s reaction to seeing his wife in bed with another. He couldn't even finish the scene at first, as his anger overcame him and he was no longer the king you’re seeing on the screen. 
He lost control and stormed off set, and when you followed him to his room, you witnessed his unraveling for the first time. 
That moment, while you were filming this very scene, serves as the beginning of what has now ended, and seeing a representation of it through the film makes your heart feel as though it could shatter at any second. 
Jake’s leg has now begun to bounce in the seat next to you, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking the same things you are. Unlike he did for you, you choose not to rest your hand on his leg to offer him comfort. It’s not that you don’t want to, you’re just not sure that you can. You fear it’ll only make things worse for him, given how quickly he chose to remove his hand from you just moments ago. The touch would probably cause him even more discomfort, and you don’t want to be any more responsible for that than you already are. 
In the film, after the King has threatened Lancelot with his life, the scene then shifts to his infidelity with Camillie. This is one you haven’t watched yet, and now you’re understanding what Jake may have been feeling this whole time watching you and Sam. 
As the pair begins to kiss one another, the camera closes in on their faces. Watching Jake lips interlocked with hers in high definition isn’t something you were ready to see. And to make this moment much more difficult than it already is, you hear the infamous giggle that belongs to Stacy from further down the row. As your eyes leave the screen and glance her way, you’re wishing you would’ve just kept your attention on the film. Her hand is on Jake’s thigh, and he is smiling.
The rage you’re suddenly feeling is surpassing every other emotion you’ve experienced in such a short amount of time. What is she doing with her hand on him? Why does she think she has that right? Because of her miniscule little role she played in the film? 
You want so badly to get Nat’s attention, but it would be inappropriate to do so during the film. And, Nat is just as enthralled by it as everyone else. 
And you should be, too. It’s a true work of art, a magnum opus. Why can’t you let everything else rest so you can enjoy what you helped to create? If not for you, for Josh and Malahchi who labored endlessly over this. It’s not fair to either of them to allow your mind to be so preoccupied with other things that you know don’t matter right now.
As Camille and the King's scene comes to an end, it then fades into the final goodbye between Lancelot and Guiniverre. He’s holding her, telling her that he must put an end to this affair, if only to spare his life from the King’s wrath. In a final display of their love, they kiss one another deeply before he sets off. 
The moment is powerful, as it shows the Queen and Lancelot doing what they know is right, while the King has just been shown having his own affair behind the back of his wife. The camera closes in on the Queen’s face, tearfully watching her lover fade into the shadows. You’re enthralled by moment, as you can feel the very emotions you felt as you filmed it all over again. 
You hear a sigh from Sam, who nudges your shoulder once more as you’re the single shot on the screen. And with the nudge of his elbow, your body is shoved into Jake’s. 
You begin to apologize for it, but as you look at him, his eyes piercing yours, you’ve found yourself unable to speak. His face is close – close enough that you needn't hardly move if you decided to kiss him. And the desire is there, no doubt. His warm breath fans your face, eliciting chills all over your body. His eyes begin to move down to your chest, and you feel your nipples begin to perk at breath touching your skin. You know he notices, as you can see the hint of a smile on his lips, even in the dark theatre. 
The longing to lock your lips with his is dire. To feel him again, to taste him again; you’d be damned to say you haven’t wanted that this whole night. His eyes slowly lift back up to yours and his tongue glides over his lips, and before you can say or do anything, he turns his attention back to the film.
Taking a deep breath, mentally brushing away any other thought, you do just as he did and focus your eyes back to the screen, watching the most beautiful film progress before your eyes. Instead of wasting this time worrying about what you can dwell on any other time, you’re choosing to witness the retelling of a King and Queen who loved one another, yet they couldn’t be together for many reasons, most of them beyond the telling of the well-known tales. 
You know you have a bias, but this adaptation of a lore you’ve studied for more years than you can count is truly the best you’ve yet to see. Josh’s careful attention to the details of the classic story, while adding his own magical touch to the insight of each of these characters – these incredibly deep and complex characters – it’s done in a way you’ve never seen. To be part of something like this, it’s the biggest honor of your life. 
As the film is reaching its final scene, you feel tears welling in your ducts as you watch the King prepare his final speech. Jake’s acting is something to be revered, and his portrayal of this timeless character is award-worthy in itself. 
As the King, Jake, holds Excalibur high in the air, the tears begin falling down your face as the King bares his heart to his knights. 
“Guinevere, my queen, my love, has forsaken our sacred bond for the arms of my most trusted knight. The pain of this treachery pierces deeper than any sword.” 
As he proclaims his love and hurt over his dear wife, and his loyalty to Camelot, this magnitudinous film reaches its ending. 
Once the final credits begin to roll, the whole theatre starts rumbling with roaring applause. And as you look over your shoulder, the tears start falling even harder when you see a standing ovation from every person filling the Fox. Josh is nearly beside himself when he notices, a look of pure relief and pride on his tear-stained features. 
“You did it, babe!” Malachi shouts, standing with Josh to embrace one another. The rest of the row stands to join the ovation, as the applause seems to be endless from the crowd. Sam’s arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into a short side hug. You then catch sight of Nat, who seems just as emotional as you are with streaks of black mascara down her cheeks. 
And then, you look to Jake, standing beside you and gazing at his twin with nothing but admiration laced in his smile. To see him so clearly proud of his brother is such a beautiful thing, and it’s certainly distracting you from everything else you’ve felt tonight. 
The film, and everything surrounding it, has reached its final closure. 
It’s done. The hard work has more than paid off, in your opinion. Seeing it like this, played before an eager audience as though it were being premiered in Hollywood, has made everything about it worth more than gold. You’ll still present it in class next week, but this – this was what it was made for. It’s a crowd pleasing masterpiece, and Josh should be nothing but incredibly proud that he is the creator of something so extraordinary. 
⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎
After watching the other two films, each of them far beyond anything you expected tonight, the viewings have come to an end. You didn’t realize the sheer talent present at your school, and it enlists a sense of pride within you. These students, Josh included, are so passionate about what they do, and it’s so very clear in every piece you’ve seen tonight. You’re in awe of every one of them, to say the least. But, putting your clear bias to the side, Josh’s film surpasses the other two by a massive landslide. His is as close to perfection as a short film can possibly be, with or without you. 
Dr. Turner, joined by four more faculty members from the Film Studies program, walks back on stage to more applause from the crowd. “Distinguished students and guests, we are pleased to present this year's Hopwood Award for Screenplay and Cinematography,” he announces.. “As you all know, students who earn this award are guaranteed a full ride to The Los Angeles Film school, as well as the opportunity to shadow a world renowned director of their choosing.” 
As you look down the row towards Josh, his nerves are present in his body language, a timid smile across his lips. You are filled with nerves, your chest tightening and your palms becoming damp with perspiration; if you are this jittery, you can’t begin to imagine how Josh is feeling. He’s holding Chi’s arm with one hand, gripping Nat’s hand in the palm of the other. Touch is his comfort, and you’re sure he’d be clinging to every one of you right now if he could.
He looks down the row as he’s chewing on his bottom lip from anticipation, locking eyes with you as. He mouths the words “Thank you,” and you respond with a quiet “Good luck!” He nods his head, blowing a kiss as you offer one in return. 
“After careful consideration, the board has chosen the student whom we believe has directed the most visually stunning and well-written short film. This has been no easy choice, as each film we’ve seen tonight more than qualifies for such a prestigious award,” Dr. Turner says, holding the physical representation of the award in the hand not holding the microphone. “But the student we’ve chosen has displayed time and time again what it means to be a director in a field that requires the kind of talent and discipline that we’ve seen from him over the years.” 
Without even realizing it, your hand is gripping your necklace, something your anxious thoughts decided you needed right now. Your pounding heart can be felt against your hand, beating so quick you’re afraid you’ll faint if the recipient isn’t announced. 
“With that being said, the student we feel is the most deserving is…,” 
Come on, come on.  
“...Josh M. Kiszka, for his impeccable direction of the astounding Les Sombres Intrigues de Guenièvre et Arthur.” 
The mention of his name has each of you shooting up from your seats, cheering and shouting for Josh as you fight back the gleeful tears. As Josh stands, he hugs Malachi tightly before the two of them walk hand in hand up to the stage to accept the award. Everyone in the crowd is clapping, rallying behind him and encouraging him.
He deserves this. More than anyone in this room, Josh deserves this. 
As Dr. Turner hands him the award, he shakes his hand and pulls him into a hug. Everyone from the board walks by to congratulate Josh, shaking hands with him and Malachi, commending the two of them for their work. 
Josh is wiping away a few tears as Dr. Turner hands him the microphone, patting him on the back. “You’ve made a grave mistake in handing me this,” Josh jokes in the mic, cackling to himself. There are quiet agreements from each of you, knowing damn well that Josh will talk forever if given half the chance.
“I promise to keep this short. I would just like to extend my gratitude to a group of people that have been the driving force in seeing this dream of mine come to fruition.” He looks at your row, holding out his hand to you all with heavy emotions present on his smiling face. “My brothers, Jacob and Samuel, my dear friends y/n, Natalia, Daniel, and Stacy –,” Of course she had to be mentioned. 
“ – and, lest I forget, my loving partner, Malachi.” Standing beside him, Malachi wraps his arm around Josh's shoulders. “You all are the beating heart of this production. Without each and every one of you,” he tearfully exclaims, holding up his award. “This wouldn’t have been possible. Know that my love for you is boundless.” 
He takes a bow to the crowd, blowing kisses all across the theatre. As he hands the mic back to Dr. Turner, Josh pulls Malachi close to him for a hug. The two of them, so proud and full of love. It melts your heart in every way a love like theirs should. 
And watching them has you longing for your own hug, specifically from the person to your right. But as you look over, he’s already lost in a hug. With Stacy. 
Before you can give yourself the chance to lament on it, Sam reaches for you, pulling you into his arms. “Can you believe it?” He sways you back and forth, turning you both in a circle, to where you’re now facing Jake, who’s no longer in an embrace with Stacy. 
He’s looking at you, staring into your eyes while you’re wrapped in his brother's arms. At once, you try to pull away from Sam so you can celebrate with the one you really long to be with. 
But, it’s too late. 
With a solemn smile, tearing his eyes away from yours, he walks right past Stacy down the other side of the aisle. She tries to get his attention, but he’s paying her no mind. You watch him continue to walk, until he’s gone, completely lost within the sea of people in the theater. You let go of Sam, beginning to follow after Jake until you feel a tug on the back of your arm.  “Don’t,” Josh whispers in your ear from behind you, his thumb rubbing circles on your arm. “Just let him go.”
⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎
a/n: i can't lie, i'm a little sad the filming days have ended, too. i know this was a lot, & i am once again offering my sincerest apologies, lol. see you in part 2. 😘
as always, thank you all for your love & support. hearing from you guys makes my heart soar, & it truly keeps me going. my inbox is always open. don't ever be afraid to reach out. 🤍
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concreteburialplot · 6 months ago
Text
Wallflower 🌸
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Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Fem!Reader
Series Masterlist: Here | Crossposted: ao3 | Word Count: 7.6k
Summary: Overwhelmed at your first college party, you catch the attention of the most popular guy in the room. Not only does he offer a comforting escape from the chaos, but he also provides a place to stay when your roommate kicks you out for a hookup.
Warnings: mutual pining, panic attacks, overstimulation, alcohol consumption, college parties, frat boy!danny lol, minor altercation / brief angry sam, hint of forbidden twin?, weed, one bed trope technically?, very soft, enchanted by TS vibes, eventual smut in future parts, 18+ MDNI
A/N; This is my first fic for gvf, pls be kind 🥲 - this is a work of fiction and does not reflect any members of the band or their real lives/actions/etc. - i hope you like it 🥲💞🌸
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It was only your 3rd weekend away at university and your extremely extroverted roommate somehow talked you into a frat party. You followed Katie into a massive, bustling house illuminated only by strobe and neon lights. The air was thick and hazy with cigarette and marijuana smoke, making your nose scrunch up at the pungent smell. 
She pressed a gentle but firm hand on your back and nudged you forward, not realizing until then that you had been frozen in place.
Katie somehow managed to glide through the crowd effortlessly, skillfully maneuvering without bumping into anyone. She even asked someone for directions to the kitchen, to which they eagerly pointed out the way. It was so foreign to you, the concept of speaking to strangers and receiving such kindness in return so quickly. Perhaps it was her brighter face and friendlier persona that made the difference. 
Following the directions from a blonde girl wearing only a bikini, you made your way across the house into a surprisingly spacious kitchen. The room had an unconventional layout, resembling a triangle with an oddly-shaped island at its center. 
There were people scooting around the edges of the crowded kitchen trying to reach the liquor bottles and jell-o shots strewn across the counters. Surrounding the ample island were party goers all engaged in a rowdy conversation. You followed their focus to the one commanding their attention and landed on what could quite possibly be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. Long brunette hair flowed past his shoulders and had a slight wave that framed his face perfectly. Even in the dim light of the kitchen you could make out the sharpness of his features. The air in your lungs seemed to vanish and your ears tuned out the booming laughter and thumping party music. Your chest swelled with a feeling of rampant heart rate and your stomach dropped into a flurry of butterflies. Suddenly, you felt even smaller and more out of place than you’d ever felt perhaps in your entire life.
Your life-of-the-party, sunshiney roommate wrapped her fingers around your wrist and dragged you to the group of people on the opposite side of the island, next to where the stunning man stood. She made it to a tall male in a t-shirt with cropped sleeves, large enough to show his ribs.
“Danny!” Katie exclaimed, getting his attention.
“Oh hey!” He smiled wide as he turned away from the counter to face her. “You made it!”
“Y/N this is Danny,” She gestured to the boy with dark curly hair that was tucked beneath a backwards cap, “I met him at the bookstore yesterday.”
You wondered what sort of magic Katie possessed that allowed her to make friends everywhere she went.
He kept a kind smile on his lips as he waved to you.
“Hey.” You sheepishly smiled and waved back to him.
Your roommate gestured back to you, “Danny this is Y/N.”
He gave you a soft grin before directing his attention back to your roommate. “Did you ever get your textbook situation figured out?”
The party had only grown more unruly in the short time you’d been there. You slunk into the background of the lively kitchen until your hips met the cold counter. You tugged at the pink top Katie had lent to you in an attempt to cover a bit more of your midsection. Not only had she persuaded you to party tonight, she also convinced you to borrow some of her clothes, since yours were too “casual comfy”. She managed to get you into a baby tee paired with a high-waisted white skirt paired with your usual white Converse. You didn’t necessarily feel exposed or vulnerable in the outfit, it was just not your preferred level of comfort.
Loud cheering rang through the house and even though you could tell it was from a distance, the loud sound still made you wince. Almost immediately afterwards, a clearly wasted man in a tank stop shoved his way past you, pushing you into the granite counter. The encounter caused you to tuck your crossed arms even tighter against your body. 
“Sam,” Danny spoke over the blaring music to the male that was keeping the group laughing to get his attention. “Sam,” He repeats, though the lanky boy was too caught up in whatever conversation he was in to notice. Danny gently tapped his shoulder which finally got the boy to look over at him. “I’m gonna go find Josh.” He nearly yelled over the music and thumbed over his shoulder towards the living room.
“Okay.” The male nodded in acknowledgment.
Just as his gaze fell from his friend, it landed on you. It was clear that he didn’t expect there to be anything to get his attention as he blinked to do a subtle double take. His eyes flickered over to his friends across from the geometric-shaped island. He snapped right back into the flowing banter like a puzzle piece. The ease of how swiftly he melted back into the conversation reminded you a lot of Katie and her magic socializing powers.
While Katie didn’t originally know the people beside you, it only took for her to ask them to pass the tequila for a friendship to be born and for you to have a mixed drink in your hand. You swirled the contents of your plastic red cup, watching as the ice cubes crashed into each other. It felt as though you’d faded into the background and became one with the cabinets and counters. You weren’t anywhere near as outgoing as her and you knew nobody else at the party. It was just you and the shitty alcoholic punch that was quickly getting watered down in your cup.
“Well, you sure look like you’re having fun.” Spoke a voice from beside you. It wasn’t until then that you realized you had zoned out. Your eyes snapped up to the now half-empty kitchen, and you wonder when it was that everyone cleared out, including your roommate. Finally, you followed the voice and trailed your eyes up to find the long-haired boy from before.
Your cheeks heated up and your gaze immediately dropped back down to your cup. “Oh um, yeah.” You forced a quick smile back up at him. “Having a great time.”
He let out a laugh that was more reminiscent of one someone would offer after a witty joke. “Well that was incredibly convincing.” He said sarcastically although his tone was light and playful.
You could feel the redness spreading on your cheeks getting caught in your (quite obvious) lie. “I just don’t know anyone here.” While it was the truth, it wasn’t exactly the whole reason you were miserable. “Except for my roommate, who,” You sighed and motioned towards where she had stood before. “Disappeared on me.” You let your arm fall to your side in utter defeat.
“Well, let’s fix that.” He said, holding out his hand. “Hi, I’m Sam, I’ve also been known to go by Sammy, Sammy Boy, whatever tickles your fancy really.” He grinned, big and wide, and most importantly, kind .
You offered a small, timid smile back before reaching out and slipping your hand into his. “Y/N.”
His smile only grew as he firmly grasped your hand and gave it a good, firm shake. “An honor to make your acquaintance.” 
You couldn’t help but giggle at all his eccentric verbiage. “Nice to meet you too, Sam.”
The alcohol must’ve been hitting your system more than you thought since you probably would’ve barely been able to speak a single word to this man if you had been sober.
“Is this your party?” You asked, trying to cover your bases before talking any more shit about the ensemble.
He laughed hard that time, “Me? In a fraternity? God no.” He shook his head and took a sip of his beer. “It seems like everyone ended up at this party, even you, Wallflower.” He offered a playful smile.
Your cheeks burned hot at the nickname even though it was meant to be comical. “Oh,” You chuckled nervously and your gaze fell back to your red cup. “Parties just aren’t my thing, my roommate just dragged me here.”
“What couldn’t you like about a party like this?” He stepped back and stretched his arms wide. If you weren’t mistaken, his tone sounded half facetious. He smiled then stepped back towards you. “Besides the god-awful music, of course.” He kept his grin as he took a sip from his beer bottle, a lime wedge clunking against the glass walls.
You chuckled at his theatrics, he was quickly becoming one of the most interesting people you’d ever met. “The music isn’t so bad, not really my taste but, it’s not the worst part.” You shrugged. “It’s mainly the people.” Your gaze followed past the boy, through the kitchen arch entrance into the living room where the hoard of college students danced and mingled. “Too many people.” 
“You sound like my brother Jake.” He laughed fondly. “He loves to party, but with the right people. That’s why he’s not up here. My other brother though,” He peeked over his shoulder at the party. “He’s in there somewhere having the time of his life right now.”
“And you?” You questioned, turning your face up to him. “Why aren’t you out there?”
The corners of his mouth turned up like it was the easiest thing in the world, like forming a smile was what he was born to do. “Well, because I’m talking to you, silly.” He stated as if it was obvious.
Heat rushed to your cheeks once more. “Oh, well I don’t wanna keep you from your friends.” You shook your head and tried to keep your eyes on him as you spoke but failed and your gaze fell back to the melting ice in your cup. “I’m sure they’re waiting for you.”
“I’m not in a rush.” He replied simply, keeping his focus earnestly on you. “I’m sure that I’m the last thing on their minds right now.” He joked.
“I suppose you’re probably right.” You chuckled and met his eyes.
Suddenly, a visibly wasted frat boy fashioned in a neon green tank top shoved his way between the both of you. The abrasive action not only shoved Sam backwards but also bumped into your cup splashing a bit of drink onto your shirt. You gasped at the unexpected force then hissed at the coldness now spreading across your skin. 
Sam set his beer down harshly on the island, hard enough for the glass clank to ring through the small space. “What the fuck man?” His tone was irritated but not quite angry yet, until his eyes noticed the blue alcohol bleeding across your baby pink top. 
The boy, who looked like his name was Kyle, drunkenly smirked at the remark, as if irritating Sam seemed like fun to him. “You should be thanking me for getting your girl wet.” 
You’d only known Sam all of maybe 30 minutes but you could tell he wasn’t one to pick fights, however you questioned that truth when you watched his brows lower at the male. He stepped towards him with a strongly pointed finger. “Really bold of you to be so disrespectful to someone who could easily get your ass kicked out of here.”
The boy scoffed at him, “Oh what are you gonna do, ban me from every party?” He asksd as if it’s a joke.
“That exactly.” Sam stated calmly though you could tell it was anger he was suppressing. “I know every fucker in this house, all I’ve gotta do is point you out, and boom,” He shrugged casually. “Say goodbye to every party of the year.”
It was obvious that the boy only half believed him but the threat of being exiled from the campus’ largest and most anticipated parties had his eyes widening. 
“That’s what I thought.” His arm swung towards the kitchen exit. “Now get the fuck out, and don’t let me see you again.”
He nodded quickly and sped out of the kitchen. When Sam’s gaze returned to you it quickly softened and his hands immediately found your arms to comfort you. “I’m so sorry.” He apologized even though it wasn’t his fault. His eyes landed on your chest though you knew it wasn’t disrespectful. “Here.” He swiftly pivoted behind you to snag the roll of paper towels, snapping off a few squares before dampening them in the metal sink beside you. He brought the dampened pieces and went to help clean your shirt but stopped himself before making contact. His chocolatey eyes snapped up to you with a look of apology. “May I?” 
You were stunned by everything that had just occurred so you just nodded. His touches were gentle, patting the colorful stain away. “I’m sorry that happened. I know you just said how you were already overwhelmed with everything.”
You sucked a breath in through your nose trying to steady your breathing, attempting to act normal even though the event overstimulated you enough to border a panic attack. “No it’s okay, I just-“ You closed your eyes and let your chest fall as you exhaled. “This stuff is just, it’s a lot.” You kept your focus off of him feeling somewhat ashamed of it. You’re in college, something so minor at a party shouldn’t bother you, right?
He paused his actions to glance up at you before returning to his work on your shirt. “Don’t apologize. Like I said, my older brother Jake doesn’t like crowds either.” He informed softly, taking extra care to not touch you too much or make you uncomfortable. “I’m used to this.” His shoulders pulled into a shrug. 
“Thanks.” You nodded, grateful for his kindness. You allowed a quiet fall between you as you focused on calming down. After a bit of him going back and forth with new paper towels with little success, you sighed looking down at the vibrant blue splotch. “It’s okay, it doesn’t look like it’s gonna come out.”
The edge of his mouth curved into a slight frown knowing that despite his best efforts, you were right. “I’m sorry.” He added the last used paper towel onto the pile beside you. “Hey, let me at least get you a fresh shirt.”
After cleaning up the mess of paper towels, he led you away from the crowd and upstairs to rows of ample bedrooms. 
“I thought you weren’t a part of this frat?” You asked as he went directly to a specific door. 
“I’m not,” He twisted the doorknob to a surprisingly empty bedroom. The rest of them seemed to be …preoccupied. The room looked like a stereotypical college dorm just in an elaborate fancy house. There were sports posters on each side of the walls above two separate beds, along with soccer and golf gear spread over the floor. It was surprisingly clean but you wondered if that was by design, if it was only clean because they anticipated having company tonight. Without turning the light on, Sam found his way to a wooden dresser and dug through it. You furrowed your brows in confused concern since he just informed you that this was in fact not his room. If you knew him better you’d scold him and ask what he was doing rifling through someone else’s belongings but you held your tongue in favor of curiosity. 
The moonlight peering through the window casted a sparkling light across his features. He seemed to glow, the light loved his smooth tan skin, the sharp edges of his face and the honey in his eyes. It felt wrong to ogle at him like he was some Greek sculpture but you couldn’t help it. He was just so beautiful .
You promptly averted your stare when he finally turned back to you and held out a folded shirt flat on two hands like a gift. “That guy your friend was talking to in the kitchen? That’s my best friend Danny.” He smiled fondly, evidently proud of his friendship. “He does live here and so I end up crashing here all the time so, I have some backup clothes.” He tilted his head to the shirt. “It’s clean, you can borrow it for the night if you want.”
You couldn’t help the small smile that crept up to your lips at his gesture. You gently took the rusty brown shirt and thanked him. He led you to the nearest empty bathroom for you to change.
Being alone in a bathroom at a party tended to be a great place to gauge where your head was at so, when you stood in front of the mirror and assessed yourself you noticed a couple things. You looked absolutely ridiculous with the giant blue splotch across your chest. There was a slight warm redness in your cheeks indicated that you were a little tipsy but not enough to numb your fingers or lips. And finally, a fluttering had made home in your tummy and a smitten grin kept threatening to creep across your lips. You wondered if the pink in your cheeks was truly the alcohol or something else entirely. 
After you changed into the borrowed shirt, you stepped out of the bathroom to find Sam leaning against the stairway railing mindlessly waiting for you. Once his eyes finally landed on you, the edges of his mouth tugging into a smooth and soft smile. “Ah, it looks great on you!” He exclaimed with an arm stretched out to his side before softly landing on your shoulder. 
The warmth in your cheeks worsened at his compliment, which you quickly tried to squash by telling yourself that he’s just being nice. “Thanks.” You replied in a voice smaller than you intended. 
If this had been any other night, with anyone else, you would’ve definitely already been on your way home by now, but you couldn’t possibly cheat yourself out of time with the most interesting person you’d ever met. Even so, the idea of going back to the chaos downstairs wasn’t appealing at all. 
Almost as if he could read your mind, he straightened up a bit like he’d just thought of an idea. “By chance, do you happen to play pool?”
Your brows furrowed and your head tilted slightly like a confused puppy. “Um, a little, a long time ago. I don’t really remember how though.”
His lips tugged into a wide smile. “Perfect! Let me show you something, follow me.”
Now, it wasn’t your brightest moment, letting a random boy at a party lead you downstairs into a basement but for whatever reason you trusted him. He was far too kind to be devious – besides, what sort of sinister person wears a cream-colored knit sweater to a frat party?
You followed him down some carpeted steps into a brick-lined basement. You looked around the room taking it in fully. While it was still busy with people, the atmosphere was much different. The music was softer, and the chatter wasn’t nearly as loud. The room was full of games, from pool tables to air hockey to darts and even some arcade games. It was accompanied by an espresso-colored leather couch and wooden bar stocked with what looked like every bottle of liquor imaginable. The basement was much more your speed than upstairs would ever be.
Sam must’ve noticed your amazement, giving you a tiny smirk. “Much better, isn’t it?”
“Worlds better.” You grinned up at him in gratitude, though a twinkle of fear sparked in your stomach at the thought that he may just leave you there to rejoin his friends upstairs.
That worry melted away when he was instantly greeted by nearly everyone in the room. You were beginning to learn that he had friends everywhere he went. The only one you recognized was Danny from earlier which surprised you since he seemed like the life of the party earlier and it was his party after all. Next to him stood a shorter boy with long brown hair somewhat reminiscent to Sam’s. In opposition to Sam’s sweater, this boy wore a button down held together only by the last two buttons before being tucked into his jeans. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow the long corded, crystal necklace that laid down his exposed chest. When you heard Sam’s voice beginning introductions, you blinked your eyes up to the mystery boy’s face only to find his eyes already on yours with a smirk. Your cheeks burned in hopes that neither of them noticed your wandering eyes. 
“Well you already met Danny, but this is my brother Jake.” Sam grinned introducing him. “Jake this is Y/N, Y/N this is Jake.” He gestured between you both. 
Jake smiled at you but you took note of the corner of his lip curling into another smirk. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He pulled the pool stick he was using off the table until he stood it up beside him holding it like a staff. 
“Hey.” Your lips tugged into a tightlipped smile as you tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear before waving at him. 
Sam then grinned wide and clapped his hands together, startling you a bit. “Okay! Now you said that you don’t know how to play, right?”
“Not really, no.” You shook your head, stepping back to turn towards the vacant pool table parallel to the one Jake and Danny were playing on. Your eyes lingered on the green fabric table top and tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you realized that you absolutely did not remember how to play. 
Sam noticed your lingering apprehension and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "Don't worry, it's easy! I'll walk you through it, Wallflower." He said the nickname in a playful manner, poking light fun at your timidness.
Out of the corner of your eye you caught Jake take note of the nickname and it made you wonder why - was it because it was clear why it was your nickname or the fact that Sam had already given you one?
He picked up a pool cue and handed it to you, demonstrating how to hold it properly. "First, you want to get your grip right. Hold it like this," he said, gently taking your hands and positioning them on the cue. His touch was soft but firm, and resembled electricity against your skin.
You tried to mimic his stance, but it felt awkward and unnatural. Sensing your struggle, Sam stepped closer, his chest barely brushing against your back. "Here, let me help you," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. His hands gently adjusted your grip and guided your arm into the correct position. "Now, keep your eye on the ball you're aiming for."
You nodded, trying to focus despite the buzzing in your stomach. Sam's presence was both comforting and extremely nerve-wracking. "Like this?" you asked, lining up your shot.
"Exactly," he confirmed with a large, prideful smile. "Now, just take a deep breath and strike."
You took a breath, steadying your nerves, and struck the cue ball. It rolled smoothly across the table, colliding with the intended target and sending it into a pocket. Your eyes widened in surprise and delight. "I did it!"
Sam laughed, clearly pleased with your success. "See? I told you it was easy."
As you and Sam continued to play, Jake wandered over, with a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Hey Sam, I got a few pointers to give, don’t you mind?" he asked, already picking up a pool cue before the other answered. 
Sam’s tone and deadpanning glare made it obvious that he was used to but far too old for the competitive big brother behavior. "Alright, Jake, let's see what great pointers you got." Sam rolled his eyes already knowing where this was leading but stepped back with a good-natured chuckle to keep peace. 
Jake sauntered over, exuding a casual confidence with every step. While he and Sam both oozed confidence, they were much different in their own ways. Sam was self-assured in the way he could be the center of attention in any room by being solely his authentic self. Jake’s composed demeanor was different. He didn’t make himself the center of attention in the room, he just was - you’d barely been in the room 60 seconds before he captivated you.
Jake stood beside you, his presence more imposing than Sam's, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. "Alright, Y/N, let's see how you're holding that cue."
You showed him the way Sam had taught you hold, feeling slightly nervous under his intense gaze. He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Nah, you've got it wrong. Here, let me show you."
He moved behind you, much like Sam had, but his approach was different. Jake's hands were firmer, his touch more assertive. He adjusted your grip with a practiced ease, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "You need to be more confident with your shot," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Pool is as much about attitude as it is about skill."
Sam watched from a distance, his expression unreadable. You tried to focus on Jake's instructions, but his proximity was a bit overwhelming. "Like this?" you asked, adjusting your stance under his guidance.
"Exactly," Jake replied, his breath warm against the shell of your ear. The sensation alone had goosebumps erupt across your skin. "Now, don't hesitate. Just go for it."
You struck the cue ball, and it collided with the intended target, sending it into a pocket with a satisfying clink. Jake's grin widened. "See? Not bad at all."
You glanced over at Sam across the room, who surprisingly gave you a thumbs up, his smile genuine despite the shift in dynamic. "Nice shot, Y/N!" he called out.
Jake stepped back, leaning against the table with a satisfied look. "Alright, Sammy boy, she's all yours again," he said with a perpetual smirk and a wink in your direction.
Sam rejoined you, his demeanor as warm and patient as ever towards you but you caught him shooting a slight glare over at Jake. "Great job, Y/N. You did so good!" Even though Jake’s proximity had your heart thumping, you were happy to have Sam’s comforting presence back.
Blood rushed to your cheeks at the compliment, “Thanks.” You replied meekly. Between Sam being well, Sam, and Jake’s oddly competitive behavior, you had to admit that you were a tad overwhelmed with it all. Although, it wasn’t necessarily an entirely bad feeling just, a lot for someone who never went out all that much before. It was a lot and your social battery was quickly depleting.
You ended up finishing your rounds with Sam while Jake and Danny continued to play their own game. Every so often you found yourself peeking over at Jake who was cool and focused with a cigar perched between his fingers. 
Surprisingly, you won your game but wondered if Sam had let you win. Regardless of whether your success was genuine, it filled you with a rush of accomplishment. If the night hadn’t been so long already you might’ve even initiated another game, but the ache of sleep started to weigh heavy on your bones. 
You rounded the table with a smile wider than you’ve had in weeks, thinking that maybe college wouldn’t be as scary as you spent so much time stressing over. 
“Thanks for teaching me.” You used both hands to keep the cue in place while you leaned against it tiredly. 
“Ah, you were a great student.” He waved away your politeness. 
You blinked up at him, finally able to see his face clearly in the better lighting of the basement. He looked even more striking under the warm glow, the soft yellow light highlighting his beautifully sun-kissed skin. His features were defined, with sharp angles and a complexion so smooth it was almost unreal. But the most captivating part of him was undoubtedly his eyes. In that light, they were a mesmerizing shade of dark caramel brown, drawing you in and momentarily distracting you from everything else.
“Oh, um,” Blood rushed to your cheeks, turning them a deep pink. “I don’t think so, but I had a really good time.” For some reason the admission felt vulnerable. 
He smiled, “Well, I’m glad. I did too.”
You glanced over to the circular wall clock to find that it was well past 1 am. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize it was so late.” You sighed and met Sam’s gaze again. “I really should get going.”
“Oh,” He faltered a bit, “Did you need a ride? I’m sure I could find someone sober around here.” He twisted his body around to check the room for any candidates. 
You chuckled and shook your head, setting your cue on the pool table. “No it’s fine, I was just gonna walk.” 
“Oh, I can’t let you walk home alone! There’s creeps out there!” 
You mulled it over in your head and while you didn’t want to inconvenience him further, he had a point that hadn’t dawned on you yet. “Well, I wouldn’t wanna bother you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s no bother at all.” He gestured towards the exit upstairs. “You ready?” 
You nodded and followed him up the stairs. Despite it being so late the party still raged on and kept the house chaotically crowded. Before you could really process an escape route, Sam grabbed your hand and began weaving through the crowd. You knew it was just precautionary and in reality it didn’t mean anything, but the action still filled your tummy with rampant butterflies and your chest with rapid thumping. 
Once you were safely on the porch, he released your hand and looked down at you. “You okay?” His brows curved up in concern. 
“Yeah.” You nodded with a small smile. It was almost embarrassing how brave you felt after surviving a rowdy frat party. 
“Okay good.” The smile he gave you was so sincere it almost made your heart ache. “Which way we headin’?” 
“That way.” You pointed to the left where the freshman dorms were located. 
“Cool, I live that way too.” He hopped off the porch while you opted for the three steps down he had skipped. 
You were both grateful and disappointed for the fact of your dorm was rather close to the party. As much as you craved your bed, it meant the end of this night with him would come sooner and you weren’t sure you were ready for that just yet. 
“Don’t take this the wrong way but,” He prefaced a question, “Was that your first college party?” 
A gush of warm August wind washed over you, blowing your hair back. You let out an embarrassed chuckle, “Was it that obvious?” 
He let out a genuine laugh, “Not necessarily.” He lied, his shoulders pulling into a shrug. “Just a hunch.” He teased in a way you could tell wasn’t meant to be malicious. Even though he couldn’t relate, his words somehow sounded completely understanding. 
You fidgeted with your fingers since you didn’t have pockets in your borrowed skirt to shove them in. “You see, I have a history of being dragged to parties.” You joked even though you were exaggerating just a bit, only being ‘dragged’ to maybe 2 large high school parties, 3 if you count the one in middle school. You weren’t a stranger to alcohol or partying though, just preferred it in small, controlled settings with people you knew. “Like I said, I just don’t like strangers.”
“Well, strangers aren’t always bad.” He leaned a little in your direction with a raised brow. 
You giggled, “I guess you’re right.” And paused, “Afterall, I met Jake.” You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh at your own joke. 
He stopped dead in his tracks, turning to look at you with a completely deadpan expression and eyes filled with mock disapproval. The sheer dramatics of his reaction shattered your resolve, and you burst into laughter, throwing your head back.
“Ha-ha. Very funny,” he said, rolling his eyes with exaggerated exasperation, a playful smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.
“I’m jokinggg!” You defended nudging his shoulder and felt better once his smile returned to his lips. 
You went to follow him once he resumed on the designated path but stopped short. “Hey, actually this is my dorm.”
He spun on his heels crunching the gravelly asphalt beneath his shoes and pointed up to the brick building. “You live in Lakewood Hall?” 
“Yeah?”
“I live in Lakewood too!” He exclaimed in a way you’d never seen someone be so excited over something so mundane. You were certain that he could probably find joy in just about anything life had to offer.
“Really? That’s cool. What floor?” You attempted to remain nonchalant about living in the same dorm as this wonderful man you thought you may never see again.
“3, you?” 
“Wait, same! How have I not seen you around?” You asked then began walking towards the keycard protected door. 
“I don’t know.” He said, “I guess maybe because like I said I spend most of my time at Danny’s?” As he spoke, he slipped his hand into his back pocket and pulled out a keycard. The door's light blinked green, and the lock clicked open, confirming that he did actually live there too.
Once on your floor, you headed to your door and felt your stomach drop when you spotted a dreaded sock on the handle of your door. Katie must’ve ended up with that tall tattooed boy you’d last seen her dancing with. You let out a defeated sigh, not knowing where else to go at this hour. 
Sam laughed and tilted his chin at your door. “Good for your roommate.” 
You shook your head, “Yeah good for her, not for me, I have nowhere to go now and it’s like 2 am.” Both anxiety and anger began to fizz in your chest.
“Hey, it’s no big deal, I’m just down the hall.” He pointed in the opposite direction of your room. “You can come chill with me. If you want.” He made it a point to add the last bit, not wanting to push you but definitely looking to spend more time with you. 
“Oh no, no.” You shook your head vehemently. “I’ve already bothered you enough tonight, I can’t possibly intrude on your bedtime.”
He laughed hard at that one, “It’s no big deal, I’m a night owl.”
“Well, I-”
He rolled his eyes playfully before getting behind you and grasping your shoulders gently pushing you down the hall. “I’m not leaving you out here alone all night.” 
As much as you wanted to protest, just about anything sounded better than sitting alone in the hall for god knows how long. 
Once he opened his door and flicked the light on, your eyes widened. It was so much different than Danny’s - most notably the smell. Before the door was even fully open you were smacked in the face with a mix of patchouli incense and weed, each one trying to cancel the other out. He closed the door behind you as you fully took it all in. Aside from the potent smell the first thing you noticed was the two beds pushed together, a clear indicator that he didn’t have a roommate. Next was the giant earth-toned mandala-patterned tapestry that hung above the beds while the wall across the room from it was covered in vintage records and posters of various artists. Unlike the sports gear in Danny’s room, Sam’s floor was littered with instruments, more than you’d ever seen in one room outside of a school band room. 
“Whoa.” Was all that managed to tumble from your lips. 
“Cool ain’t it?” He stretched his arms out wide with a proud grin. “Got this place all to myself.” 
“Lucky.” You muttered, still a bit salty you weren’t lying in your own bed right now. “You play all of these?” 
“Yup!” He plopped himself on his double bed. “I’d play something for you now, if it wasn’t so cliche.” He joked. 
You wanted to protest but you weren’t about to argue with the keeper of your temporary sanctuary. As you scanned the room once more you noticed a couple things - thumbtacks shoved into every decoration and the bong casually out on his bedside table next to a glass jar full of green. Your brows furrowed, “How do you get away with all this?” 
He shrugged with a cocky smile, “I know people.”
“I wish I knew people.” You replied sarcastically. 
“Well, ya do now.” The edges of his mouth pulled to a soft, kind grin. It was really beautiful the way his features always seemed to light up any time he smiled. 
“You’re right.” You agreed mischievously, walking over to where he sat. “I know Jake.”
His smile fell flat at your joke. “You think you’re so funny huh?”
You giggled, “Yeah, I do.” 
His eyes glanced up at your face and lingered there longer than he intended. Now it was his time to study you - not that he hadn’t already been doing that all night but now that you were alone together and he could properly take you in. He cleared his throat when you tilted your head a bit at his stare. 
“You wanna smoke?” He offered, gesturing to the glass bong that was poorly fashioned to look like a vase. 
You shook your head, “No thanks, I think the alcohol was enough for the night. But you can if you want, I don’t mind.” 
Although it was traditionally his bedtime routine, he didn’t mind skipping that night. “No I’m okay, I was just offerin’.” He tilted his head towards an expansive vinyl shelf. “You wanna pick somethin’ to play?” 
Normally, Sam was a show-and-tell sort of guy but he was interested in what you’d choose. 
You twisted around to the long row of stacked cubicles full of records. As you stepped closer to them and ran your fingers along the spines you noticed they were all weathered with tattered edges. Almost all of the records were older artists, some big names but also some you’d never heard of. You were tempted by the only modern one you spotted being Hozier but it was obvious he wasn’t a fan of newer music and you wondered if this was some sort of test. If it was a lighthearted test, the last thing you wanted to do was seem uncultured by picking the only modern artist you saw. You thought hard about a Fleetwood Mac record but instead, you opted for an Elvis one and spun around to showcase your pick. 
“An Elvis fan? Interesting.” He eyed you curiously. “Wouldn’t have initially pegged you for one. But I’m familiar with those too, Josh is a huge fan of the king.” He chuckled, pushing himself off the thin mattress to set it up on his record player. “May I?” He outstretched his hands to take the record from your grasp.
The truth was that your knowledge on music was quite limited to mostly newer artists, except for the names everyone knows. It made you wonder if there was a world that existed where he’d be the one to help you expand your musical palate. 
You shrugged, “I just like his music.” Then obliged to his request and handed the record over for him to take it gently. 
He carefully removed the black disc from the worn sleeve. “ ‘Aloha from Hawaii’ you know this is a live recording right?” He questioned as he spun the record by the edges with his fingertips.
You playfully rolled your eyes at how naive he assumed you’d be. You stumbled a bit in your turn towards the bed, the alcohol and fatigue starting to weigh you down. Finally, you reached the edge of the bed and plopped down. You watched as he precariously placed the record down and set the needle at its edge. It was a buzz at first before the grand orchestra intro broke through the silence like a punch. “Mhm, I do.” You hummed. “I love old live recordings. I think the banter with the audience is funny. Things were so different then.” 
He let out a small chuckle, “You’re so right actually.” He crossed the room to a mini fridge filled with what you saw a glimpse, just a bunch of drinks. “Water?” He plucked a fresh cold one out of the glaring white interior and held it out for you.
“Yes! Thank you!” You let out an excited sigh of relief as the alcohol and exertion had dried up your mouth. 
You snatched the water from his grasp and cracked it open before taking a greedy gulp. In the moment, that crisp cool water going down your throat felt like heaven. Your finger tapped your phone screen to illuminate it for the time, it was almost 3 am and you had no messages from your roommate. You sighed and flipped the phone upside down. “Nothing from Katie. Looks like I’m locked out of my room for the night. I don’t wanna intrude on whatever… is going on in there.” You’re focused on the water bottle in your hands, crinkling a bit with your fingers. “I can get out of your hair though, try to find a cheap motel or something.” You anxiously fiddled with your thumbs at the mere idea of doing that.
“Don’t worry about it, really. You can crash here, it’s not a problem.” He said, taking a sip of his own water. “You can even have my bed if you want, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Oh, oh absolutely not!” You protested, using your arm to slice through the air. 
“Then you don’t mind sleeping next to me?” His voice was smoother than silk and it made a buzz fall to your core. You were now regretting your decision to debate his offer. How on earth were you supposed to fall asleep in the same room as him nonetheless beside him. 
“Nope, don’t mind!” Your voice coming out squeakier than expected and it brought warmth to your cheeks. 
His brows furrowed and perked up a bit at your response before following it with a playful smirk, like he had picked up on your nervousness and found it flattering. “Alright then.” 
He pulled open a drawer from his oak dresser and pulled out a stack of clothes before making his way to the small bathroom. When he emerged, his top half was baring his tanned skin while long sweatpants rode low on his exposed hip bones. You couldn’t help your eyes from taking a glance over, then quickly diverting your gaze away to not be caught admiring him.
He tossed his dirty clothes into a half empty hamper and made his way to the bed. He crawled beside you on the other side of the bed, pulling the gray duvet up over his shoulders. Despite he kept his distance, you could still feel the warmth radiating off of him. Against your better judgement, when you finally sunk into the bed you laid facing him since you weren’t ready to knock out just yet. His sheets smelled like cologne, woodsy and herby, similar to the patchouli in the room but with some added notes of bergamot and cedar. 
You tucked your hands flat in a prayer position under your cheek, looking at him. His brown eyes were already on you, a hint of surprise in them at your chosen position to face him.
“Thanks for saving me today.” You said quietly, just then noticing that he’d kept the record playing softly in the background. 
“It’s no big deal, Wallflower.” He matched your gentle tone with a soft smile. As silly as the nickname was, it didn't stop the swelling in your chest and the flutter in your heart. 
“I had a lot of fun tonight.” You added genuinely. Even though you got abandoned at the party and locked out of your dorm, it had been the best night you’d had so far since the semester began. 
He chuckled softly, his eyes flickering to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "We'll have to do it again."
You mirrored his glance for a moment, then smiled up at him. "Yeah, I’d really like that."
A comfortable silence settled between you, filled only by the soft music playing in the background. The warmth of his presence and the cozy scent of his sheets made you feel safe and content.
Between the long night and the calmness he brought, your eyelids grow heavy. As you let your eyes give way to slumber, a smile lingered on your lips, the events of the night replaying in your mind. In this unexpected place and with this unexpected person, you found a sense of comfort you hadn't anticipated. And for the first time since starting college, you felt truly excited about what it might bring.
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Next Chapter -> 02 - I Can See You
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Taglist; @deathblacksmoke @sacredthefran @measuredingold @persuasivus @broken0mens
A/N; Thank you so much for reading! Lmk how you liked it and if you want a part 2 🫣
129 notes · View notes
moonlightisdancing · 9 months ago
Text
Watermelon Sugar/ s.f.k
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Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!Reader
Word Count: 2607
Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI 18+ kissing, oral sex (f receiving), spanking (if you squint), fingering, begging, hair pulling, hickies, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls!), breeding
LMK IF I MISSED ANY TAGS!
🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉
“C’mon, love, time to wake up.” Sam runs his hand up and down your side, bringing his lips to kiss the shell of your ear. His fingers slid under your shirt on his second pass up your side, the gentle pads sinking into the soft skin of your belly.
“Mm, can’t we just stay here?” You whisper and nudge your hips back hoping you could sway his decision.
“Y/n, baby… I mean, we could but I already paid for the pass.”
“Ten more minutes.” You’re not asking, more so telling. Did you really have to leave now, anyways? He had you pack your bags two days ago… and he had put them in the car as soon as they were zipped. All there was left was the drive.
“Ten more.” He repeats in solidarity, his hand laying flat on your tummy. You can feel the beginning outline of morning wood against your ass, if there was one thing to keep you in bed, it was this. You nudge your ass back against his groin, placing your hand over his and pressing his palm harder against your skin.
“Maybe twenty?” You ask this time, trying to sweeten the deal.
“Uh-uh, I know what you’re trying to do. We’re going.” Sam backs his hips away from you, turning to lay on his back.
“What am I trying to do?” You turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow as you watch him think of his next words.
“Trying to seduce me, woman!” He moves his hand down to adjust himself in his boxers, bringing his arm back up to rest behind his head. You sit up and straddle his legs, placing your hands on his chest and dragging them across his bare skin. You give him the sweetest eyes you can as you slowly lower your chest to be resting against his. You pepper kisses across his chest before resting your cheek over his heart, listening to the beat it drums. His hands come over your body to wrap around your back, pulling you closer to his chest than you thought was possible. He was getting harder beneath your weight from no efforts of your own, his fingers tracing along your spine.
“Mm, Sammy,” You whined as the sensation from his fingers urged your body to shiver in response. In turn, that meant grinding deeper onto his clothed cock. “Fifteen minutes left should be enough, right?”
“Nowhere near enough time for what I wanna do to you.” He admitted shamelessly, a side of him you wished he'd show more. You lift your head up again to continue kissing his chest, going until your lips reach his nipple. You look up at him through hooded eyes before drawing your tongue towards his nipple and flicking it, the combination of spit and air causing it to pebble. Sam moans followed by an audible swallow.
“How about now?” You teased before continuing to kiss his chest, trailing up to his neck.
“I can do it better, y’know.”
“What?”
“I can flick my tongue better.” He finally moves his hands from your back to resting at the waistband of your panties. “Want me to remind you?”
All you offer is a nod and a short mhm and before you know it he’s inching you up his body until your center is lined up with his mouth. He brushes his fingers over your clothed clit before tucking them into part of fabric that meets the junction of your thigh and center. Pulling them to the side, he blows a stream of cool air against your exposed skin.
“So wet, sweet girl.” He didn’t even give you a second to register or respond to his words before his hands were planted on your hips, pushing you down onto his tongue as he lapped at your clit. His fingers dug deep into the supple skin of your ass as you rode out your orgasm, coating his face in your slick. Even after finishing, he licked between your folds until there was nothing left before ushering your legs from around his head.
“My turn now?” You asked, running your hands down his chest, stopping at the band of his boxers.
“Uh-uh, gotta go.” He sits up and kisses you softly before getting out of bed, tossing you a pair of shorts and one of his shirts from high school.
~🍉~
“I think there’s an extra piece…” You say as you struggle to push the pieces together to the tent. Years of Girl Scouts have evidently failed you as your tent looked more like a pile of polyester and metal poles than, well, a tent. You wonder how he always manages to talk you into outdoor activities. The heat was nauseating to say the least, and you were never successful in your attempts to set up the tent or start fires. But it always makes you feel bad when sets everything up by himself.
“Babe, there probably shouldn’t be extra pieces.” Sam drops your shared duffle bag against the hefty trunk of a nearby tree before making his way towards you.
“Okay, well I’m telling you- there is.” Unlike the pieces you were attempting to put together, you snapped. You watch between your legs and see Sam’s feet approaching you from behind. It’s only a matter of seconds before his large palms find purchase on your hips, his thumbs rubbing soft circles across your lower back.
“Woah, woah, woah. Deep breath, it’s okay. Do you want me to get it?” He almost doesn’t give you a choice as he uses his hands to help you stand up. Your backside rubs against his groin as he slowly brings you upright.
“I just wanna help! You always do everything a-and I just wanna… Ugh.” You frown as you turn around to face him. Sam wraps his arms around your shoulders and you press your forehead to his bare chest.
“Breathe, honey girl, you can still help. Do you wanna set up the hammock? You always pick the best spot,” He pulls away to look you in the eyes, bringing one hand to rest against your cheek.
“Okay, I can do that.” You nod your head yes and place your flat palm against the heated skin of his chest. Sam cups your chin and brings you in for a kiss, pulling away for a second before pecking your lips again.
“Hammock’s over there.” He points next to the duffel bag to a smaller striped bag. You turn to walk away, leaving Sam with whatever you had going on regarding the tent, if you could call it that. As soon as you pass him, he reaches back to smack your ass.
“Go team!”
“Saaaam!” You whine, rubbing your hand over your skin to soothe the sensation.
~🍉~
Finding the perfect spot for the hammock was no issue for you, in fact it was the one thing you felt confident in during these ventures. Sam hums a tune you don’t recognize, probably something off their newest project. You smile and slide the rope through the hoop at the end of the hammock, wrapping the rope around the trunk of the tree, and delicately twisting and tying each knot, repeating the process on both sides until the hammock is safely secured between your trees of choice. Embarrassingly enough, Sam still managed to fix the entire tent before you finished hanging the hammock. In your defense, most of the hard work had been done.
“That part was in fact not extra, by the way.” Sam states while walking towards you. “How’s hammocking going?”
“Good, I think it’s ready.” You rub your hands down your shirt and turn on your heels to face Sam.
“Wanna try it out?” He motions his hand towards the hanging fabric. You stand in front of it and gently position yourself in the middle, sitting on the hammock before throwing your legs up into the nest of cloth.
“It’s perfect!” You ring out into the woods.
“Room for one more, you think?” Sam asks as he makes his way over, following suit. To your surprise he successfully found his way nestled in next to you without any casualties. In a matter of moments, your legs find themselves thrown over his, your arms wrapped around his torso and face buried into his chest. He hums at the contact, bringing his hand to rest on your side, the other under your head allowing you to rest on his forearm.
“You did a good job, I’m proud of you.” He mumbles into your hair as he kisses the top of your head.
“Thank you, Sammy. And thanks for fixing the tent.”
“Anything for you.”
You nuzzle deeper into his side, bringing your leg up further, in turn drawing his hand lower on your waist until his palm rests against your ass. You’re reminded again how his playful tap felt in the presence of his gentle touch. You subconsciously arch your back, pushing your ass into his hand more firmly than he was allowing himself.
“I’m sorry, is there something I can do for you?” He asks as he squeezes your supple skin with his calloused fingertips before gently kneading the flesh.
“Just thinking about that smack from earlier,”
“Yeah? Did it encourage you to be a team player?” Sam drags his fingers under the hemline of your shorts until they meet the lacey edge of your panties. “Hm, think you’re ready for your prize then?” Sam’s fingers inch under your panties, grazing against your clothed bud.
“Please?” You nudge your hips forward, trying to guide his fingers where you wanted them most. Like a magnet, his fingers are drawn to your center.
“Careful, don’t wanna fall out.” Sam guides two fingers through your folds, gathering your slick on them. You lift your leg to grant him access to wherever he pleases. He slowly works his fingers up until his fingertips dance along your sensitive bud, causing more arousal to drip from your core.
“Sam…”
His free hand finds shelter upon your neck, urging your lips to meet his. He shifts his body gently enough so the hammock doesn’t tip, allowing you easier access to his chest. His lips never leave yours, instead working to become one as he licks into your mouth. His hand goes lower, lower, lower down your pants until his fingers are tapping against your entrance. You moan into his mouth at the sensation and with that Sam pushes his two digits into your aching core. You bring your hands up to undo the buttons on his shirt, exposing the rest of his torso to you. His fingers slowly fuck into you as he pulls his face away from yours, maneuvering his hand to tuck stray strands of hair behind your ears.
“There’s my girl.” He whispers into the space between your faces. Your brows furrow in pleasure, compliments to the pads of his fingers against your g-spot and the name he paid you.
“Sammy, please?” You whine, throwing your head back from the stimulation, the slight breeze cooling the sweat coating your exposed throat. Sam drops his head just enough to allow himself access to your neck, dragging his tongue from the hollow of your throat up to your jawline.
“Please what, pretty baby?”
“Need you… in… me…” Your words come out between hitched breaths, nearly unable to be mumbled at all through waves of your pleasure. Sam slowly pulls his fingers out of you and starts to push your shorts down. You help slip them off while you make work of palming his length through his shorts. The more your palm strokes his clothed length, the harder he becomes, the tip of his dick threatening to grow past the inseams of his tiny blue shorts.
Your fingers brush over the zipper, your nimble fingers quick to undo it, hand slipping past his waistband. He whines at the skin to skin contact as you run your thumb over the head of his aching cock. You let go long enough to tug at the waistband of his boxers until his cock springs loose from the restraints of the fabric. Sam hitches your leg over his thigh once again before bringing his hand down to stroke his length. His other hand is still perched against your neck, the sweat pooling in his palm. His fingers grab at tufts of your hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back to look at him as he drags the head of cock over your soaked panties.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” He huffs as he uses the tip of his dick to push your panties aside, running himself through your velvety folds. Sam rests himself at your entrance, tugging your head back further to watch your eyes screw shut as he slowly pushes into you, drawing a hiss from your lips.
“F-faster…”
“Can’t, we’ll fall. Gotta go slow.” He whispers as he slowly moves his hips back and forth, each time feeling slower than the last. Your head falls forward and you press a series of open mouth kisses across Sam’s chest. In some spots your mouth lingers, sucking and nipping at his heated skin until red marks eventually fade to purple. Sam brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing soft circles over your sensitive bud. Your orgasm starts to build, rolling through your body like distant thunder. The feeling starts in your throat, working down until every inch of you is rumbling with anticipation. He slowly moves his hips, pumping his length as deep into your pussy that your body allows. The dusting of hair around his base can still be felt past the barrier of his thumb and it drives you insane. Sam attaches his lips back to your throat and sucks bright pink marks into your skin. You bring your arms between your bodies, digging your nails into Sam’s chest over the series of love marks you left trailed across his chest. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, quickening his circular motions.
“Just like that… Is my pretty girl gonna cum?” His hips find a faster pace, surprisingly one that doesn’t tip the hammock over and end you both up naked on the forest floor. His words push you over the edge, your nails dig deeper into the skin of his chest as your thunderous orgasm finally takes storm. Your once relatively stable breathing turns into uncontrollably whining and whimpering against his neck. “Yeah… you look so pretty when you cum on my cock. Fuck..” Sam follows swiftly behind, his hips stuttering as ropes of his warm release coat your insides. The dominant brunette is quick to succumb to his own desires. His movements come to a halt as he brings his lips to yours again. He kisses you and holds you like an anchor in the storm, as if you’re the only thing tying him down to this earth. After you both come down from your orgasms, Sam finally pulls out, running his fingers between your folds once again. He collects your combined arousal on his fingers, bringing them between your lips and his. You watch as he laps at his digits, tasting your combination.
“Tastes sweet, like strawberries, wanna try?” He hums around his digits waiting for a response. You nod and he brings his hand down again to collect more, patiently waiting as he brings his fingers to your lips and pushes them past the plump, pink skin. You drag your tongue between his fingers, cleaning every drop of your mixed release from between his fingers.
“Perfect spot for the hammock.”
162 notes · View notes
sacredjake · 1 year ago
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Heaven & Hell
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pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader
word count: 3.8k
warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! basically p*rn, there is no plot. unprotected penetrative sex, cussing, impact play/spanking, edging, orgasm denial, sir kink, daddy kink, nicknames, hair pulling (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving), rough sex, cockwarming, squirting, dom!jake, eyeliner jake, sweaty jake, some fluff at the end. if i missed any pls let me know!
a/n: i intended to write this many moons ago and finally got around to it. this is inspired by end DIG jake and his smudged eyeliner. huge thank you to @gold-mines-melting for proof reading, coming up with the title, sending pic ideas and telling me to put in more sweaty jake and better descriptions of his beautiful tummy that we all love so much. love you so much, poppy, thank you<33333 also i wanna say that this is the first time @malany-gvf has not read one of my fics before it got posted so she will be going in blind hehe <3
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The show seemed to drag on for eternity, and you were grateful when the boys reappeared back on the stage for their encore. It's not that you weren’t enjoying the show. You were actually enjoying it a little too much. More specifically you were enjoying the way your hot rockstar of a boyfriend looked on the stage, his chest and neck glistening with sweat, his fingers moving furiously against the strings of his guitar, the way his hips were rocking into the instrument and his back arched, and the eyeliner that had smudged under his eyes. 
Oh the eyeliner. 
It was a shock to you just as much as it was to the fans that night when the curtain dropped. It was faint, just a little bit of black on his waterline, but my god was it driving you absolutely insane. And as the show went on, and the more Jake sweat, the more the eyeliner smudged making it almost unbearable. The throbbing between your legs wouldn't cease and only got worse, the thin material of your underwear sticking uncomfortably to your core with the arousal that pooled there.
When they started to play Highway Tune you decided it was time to make your way down to the floor so you could meet them as they walked back to their dressing rooms. You were able to catch the last half of the song after their jam session break, and you waited patiently for them to come off the stage. Just by the way Jake had been playing tonight you knew he would be looking for some relief, and that thought alone excited you. 
They had finally finished their set and were coming off the stage, Jake was first, nearly sprinting down the steps. Instead of handing his guitar to his stagehand Jake kept walking, one hand on the neck of the guitar to keep it from swinging about. His eyes were glued to your frame the moment he saw you standing there, the eyeliner extenuating his piercing stare. When he caught up to you, his right arm grabbed your left bicep, pulling you with him down the hall.
You didn’t say a word, knowing all too well what was going on. His guitar was covering the erection that had gotten increasingly worse throughout the night which is why he didn’t hand it off. His fingers dug into the meat of your arm, threatening to leave bruises, and it only turned you on more. The thought of him needing release so badly, and what he was about to do to you in the arena dressing room. 
Jake released your arm once at the door, his hand flying out to twist the knob. He guided you inside the room with a hand on your lower back, and quickly shut the door behind himself. You wandered over to the vanity in the dressing room, finding the eyeliner he used still laying on the counter. 
“The eyeliner was a nice touch, baby. Made all the fans go crazy.” You picked the pencil up and rolled it between your fingers. You watched through the vanity as Jake carefully removed his beloved guitar from his body and placed it on the spare stand by the couch. With the guitar out of the way, you could see just how badly he was straining against his pants.
He was quiet as he came up behind you, his left hand gripping your hip, the right brushing against your neck lightly to move your hair, exposing your neck. You watched his reflection come closer to you, his mouth right by the shell of your ear. His lips skimmed across your skin leaving fiery heat in their wake trailing from your ear down to the junction of your shoulder and neck where he began to place wet, hot kisses against your skin. 
“And what about you, sweetness? You seemed to be enjoying the show more than usual tonight. I bet those lacey panties of yours are just dripping.” The sensation of his breath fanning over your skin was making your head fuzzy, and your limbs weak. You barely registered the sound of the eyeliner pencil dropping onto the counter from your hand. 
You reached behind your head, tangling your fingers into his hair as your head rested against his shoulder, your back arching to push your ass further into his erection. With both his hands on your hips, Jake gave you what you asked for, rutting his hips into the swell of your ass. A whimper flew from your lips unable to contain just how needy you were for him.
“Jake please, don’t tease me. I need it, need you, bad.” Your voice was breathy and cracked when it came out, sounding like nothing more than a sigh. His hands traveled to the front of your denim shorts, popping the button and pulling the zipper down slowly. Jake slid the material down your legs, letting them pool at your feet. 
“Oh don’t worry,” He nipped at your neck before pulling away, “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.” 
Jake pulled your hands away from him and placed them on top of the vanity, closer to the mirror. With the new placement of your hands he had you bent over the desk of the vanity, giving him the perfect view of your ass and your face. Not completely satisfied with your position, Jake swiftly nudged your feet wider apart with his own, spreading your legs for him. 
“She’s all wet and ready for me, isn’t she?” He drug his middle finger over your clothed slit slowly. The minor action alone made your heat clench and your clit throb. You needed more, and Jake obliged. His finger peeled your underwear away from your sopping cunt, dropping them to lay with your shorts. 
Once removed, his middle and ring fingers swept between your folds, stopping at your clit to rub tight, fast circles. His other hand was busy with the button and fly of his pants, doing his best to free his cock from its confines. You watched his dick slap against his tan and toned stomach that was still glistening with sweat as he pulled his boxers down. He grasped himself with his free hand and ran his tip through your folds, gathering your slick. Your high was building steadily the entire time, the coil in your core getting tighter and tighter. But in an instant it was gone. Jake’s ministrations on the hard bundle had stopped completely when he switched the hand holding his dick to pump himself a few times, covering him tip to base in your arousal.
You were ready to beg, and plead for him to do something, anything, when he slammed himself into you fully. The force with which he rocked into you caused your elbows to give out, your weight leaning solely on your forearms against the cold wood of the desk, and forcing your back to arch more. 
“Fuck Jake!” You gasped in pleasure at the way he stretched and filled you just right. It was borderline painful, but that's what made it so delectable. His hips hammered into you, punishing and unrelenting. Just the way you liked. 
You pressed your hand against the cool mirror to protect your head from being rammed into it, never taking your eyes off of Jake. Sweat trailed down his face and chest, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck. The scene was like one you had seen almost a hundred times, but not restricted solely to the bedroom. He looked as he did on stage not too long ago, brows furrowed and pinched together, mouth hung open slightly, hips thrusting and eyes glued to the source of his pleasure.
“That’s it, baby,” He nearly growled watching his cock piston in and out of you, “God you take me so fucking well. Like you’re made just for me, isn’t that right?” He tore his eyes from where the two of you connected and met yours through the reflection in the mirror. All of the air had been sucked out of your lungs. The sight of his dark, lustful eyes rimmed in the black eyeliner had depleted you of all thoughts and oxygen. You could only stare back at him and nod with your mouth open. 
Air quickly filled your lungs again with a sharp breath as his hand came down on your ass. The sound cracked loudly throughout the space, the motions of his hips never ceasing. You knew there was likely to be a full handprint, red and angry etched onto your skin. 
“I’ll try again in case you didn’t understand the question,” He planted his hand on the vanity next to your elbow, the sweat that spilled down his chest now began to seep into your shirt as he leaned into you. His other hand gripped your hip, using it to hold you firm. You didn’t dare look away from him, holding eye contact while he spoke next to your ear. 
“Who does this dripping cunt belong to?” He asked, his voice low and gruff. You couldn’t stop the groan that tumbled passed your lips even if you had tried. 
Jake was always sweet and gentle with you. He would constantly whisper ‘i love you’s into your hair with a kiss, bring you flowers any chance he had, open doors for you and hold you like you were the most fragile thing on the planet. You knew he would never hurt you intentionally and loved the way he worships you. 
Every now and then, though, you would get this side of Jake. He was demanding and rough and obscene. And you loved every single bit of it. This was exactly what you had been hoping for when you saw him on stage earlier in the night, and you were ready to feed into this side of him. 
“You, daddy, it’s all for you. Only for you.” You cooed watching for his reaction. His jaw clenched, and you could’ve sworn the chocolate of his irises turned solid black. 
In a split second he stood back up, both hands latched onto your waist. The speed on his hips never waivered, but his hands guided your hips to meet his with every thrust. 
“Don’t you dare take your eyes off me, do you understand?” 
“Yes, sir.” You nodded quickly. 
Your promise was quickly forgotten as his hips drilled into you faster and harder. The pace he set was absolutely grueling. With each thrust you were brought closer and closer to your end, you couldn’t hold your head up any longer. Your chin dropped down to your chest, your eyes squeezing shut. 
“What did I just fucking say?” Jake’s hand wrapped around your throat and pulled you upwards as he continued to fuck you mercilessly. When your back was fully flush against his chest, his hand moved upwards to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the mirror. With the new angle you were teetering on the edge of bliss.
Jake knew instantly. He knew your body better than anyone. Knew all the signs of your impending orgasm. 
“I’m gonna-“ You were swiftly cut off with a smack to your left outer thigh. 
“No you aren’t, you’re gonna be a good girl and you’re not going to cum until I say so.” Jake grit out through his clenched teeth next to your ear, hot breath cascading over your sticky skin. 
Using the hold on your jaw he roughly pushed you back towards the counter top of the vanity. Your left arm shot down, your right catching on the mirror to stabilize yourself. Every breath, moan, and whine escaping your mouth fell against the mirror making it fog slightly. 
“Jake please, please. I can’t- I need to- fuck, I need to cum, please.” You whine, giving him your best fucked-out-doe-eyes. 
Jake’s only response was a groan coming from deep within his chest. His hand that was previously on your jaw wound tightly in your hair, drawing your head back sharply. The new pleasure that coursed throughout your body was heavenly. You felt him everywhere, and it was sinful bliss. 
With the grip on your hair, he used the leverage to pull your body backwards to meet each unforgiving thrust of his hips. The only sounds that came from you now were choked back sobs as you did your best to keep your orgasm at bay. You did as you were told and kept your eyes on his reflection, his lust blown orbs staring back at you. 
“Oh fuck babygirl, just like that.” The words came out low and breathy, sending you headfirst into your long awaited climax. Through your squinted eyes you watched as Jake’s head snapped back, his mouth hung open. 
Before he reached his own climax, he pulled out of you quickly. His fingers circled your clit making sure to carry you through the rest of your high. When you finally came down, he turned you around pressing your ass to sit on the counter. Without warning Jake dropped to his knees in front of you and pulled your thighs around his shoulders, eyes boring into you the entire time. 
He dragged his tongue slowly up your slit, gathering your release and groaning deeply, his eyes rolling backwards. The sight alone was enough to bring you to the edge so quickly. The smudged eyeliner underneath his eyes made him look so soft, yet dangerous. Like he could flip on a dime at any moment and split you in half just as he was moments ago. 
With each pass of his tongue over your sensitive bundle the coil deep in your core burned hotter. Jake was steadily working you towards another orgasm with his velvet smooth tongue alone. Your nails raked against his scalp, pulling groans from him and sending the vibrations straight to your dripping heat. 
You could spend eternity like this. Jake’s head between your legs, worshiping you the way he loves most. He looked absolutely divine. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and neck. The ends of his hair clinging to the wet skin. The look in his eyes was probably the best part. He looked like he was in absolute heaven, enjoying the way his tongue glided against you, gathering every bit of your sweet nectar.
Just when you were about to fall off the edge, Jake pulled back with a wicked grin. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, his tongue darting out to clean what he missed. You huffed a needy sigh in retaliation. 
“What’s the matter babygirl?” He rose to his feet and placed his hands on the vanity, caging your hips between them. His eyes darted around your face in faux concern before his mouth broke into a smirk. 
“Oh.” 
Such a simple word, but it was mocking and condescending, “Did you think I was going to let you cum?” The arrogant smirk never left his face as he reached up to tuck the hair from your face behind your ear. His hand slid down your neck softly, landing on the juncture of your throat and shoulder. 
“Only good girls get to cum more than once, baby. You haven’t been very good.” 
“I’ve been good.” You whined with a pout, squirming under his gaze. 
“But you haven’t. I told you not to cum until I said so and did you listen?” 
“No.” You dropped your chin to your chest, your focus landing on his necklaces dangling from his chest. His hand snaked up your neck to the base of your skull, his thumb pushing under your jaw and forcing you to look up at him. 
“No, you didn’t. Do you know what that means?” 
“I need to be punished.” You whispered innocently and sweet, looking at him doe-eyed. 
“That’s right, baby. Stand up.” 
You did as he asked and stood from your seated position with a little help from Jake. He led you to the couch where he rid himself of his pants and boxers fully before taking a seat. 
“You’re gonna ride me until I say you can cum. Is that clear?” 
He looked glorious sprawled out across the mundane couch. His arms were outstretched on the back, legs wide open and cock pressed against his soft, yet firm stomach. Everything about him in this simple state exuded confidence and authority.
The cushions of the couch were plush, your knees sinking into them softly as you moved closer to straddle him. With your mouth practically watering you nodded frantically. You received nothing but a ‘tsk’ from Jake and a firm hand connecting to your backside earning a hiss from your lips as you sucked in a quick breath. 
“I asked you a question.” He was stoic with an eyebrow cocked looking up at you, waiting for another slip up. 
“Yes sir.” 
“That’s my girl.” His hand soothed the sting it left behind and slid upwards to rest on your waist.  You lowered yourself down onto his lap with your hand wrapped around his length, guiding him through your slick walls. 
He wore the same authoritative expression as you lowered yourself all the way down. Cocksure and waiting. It was a sight that made you that much more aroused. Something about the way he emanated power while you were mechanically in control turned you on immensely. 
With both hands on his shoulders for support you lifted yourself up while rolling your hips forward before taking all of him in again. The speed you moved was steady, enjoying the feeling of his cock pushing and pulling against your clenching walls. Each motion of your hips wound the coil tighter and hotter, your second orgasm within reach. 
It was at this point that Jake grew impatient. His fingers dug roughly into the flesh at your waist and he took control of your hips, lifting you up quickly before slamming you back down on him fully. With each descent of your hips to his, you were met halfway as he began to thrust up into you. Moans, and gasps tumbled past your lips with an occasional curse word. 
Your body eventually gave up, letting Jake have all the power. The only thing holding you upright were your arms looped around his neck and his left arm cradling the entirety of your back, your head supported with the same hand. In this position he was all around you. There was nothing else, only Jake. 
You kept your eyes locked on his, your mouth hung open in ecstasy, his lips drawn up into something akin to a pinched sneer. 
“Is the pretty girl too fucked out to beg?” He mocked between thrusts. You couldn’t answer him, not a coherent thought forming. 
“That’s okay baby. She’s doing all the begging for you, gripping my cock so tight. I know she wants it.” Your eyes rolled back at the way he spoke about your pussy. He was going to be the death of you. 
“Go on then, let her have it. Cum for me, princess, give it to me.” Jake grit between clenched teeth, holding back his own climax just long enough to demand yours. For the second time he threw you over the edge into the vast pit of searing pleasure. The feeling was euphoric and relieving, the intense pressure that had been building finally released. 
Though your senses were dulled through the haze you could feel water coating your thighs, ass and belly, soaking portions of your shirt. 
“Oh fuck!” Jake groaned from below you the sound emanating from deep within his chest. He fucked into you faster somehow prolonging your orgasm and increasing the amount of liquid you felt splattering your skin. 
“That’s it babygirl, keep soaking my cock. Such a good girl squirting for daddy. Goddamn.” Praises flew past his clenched teeth as he reached his own high only to fall on deaf ears. You were far too gone to understand any of what he was saying. 
Violent muscle spasms rolled through your body while Jake did his best to support you through his release. He pulled your body into his with your chests pressed together and your cheek resting against his shoulder. The spasms faded into twitches before dissipating while you laid against him. You could feel every breath he took, his chest heaving up and down. 
“Goddamn you are perfect,” Jake whispered breathlessly and turned to place a kiss on your cheek, smoothing your hair with his hand, “I love you so much, baby.” 
You peered up at him, not having the energy to move your head, and met his eyes. He was smiling softly at you and practically glowing. A smile etched its way onto your face, tired and completely fucked out. 
“I love you too.” 
The two of you stayed in that position for a little while longer until you were uncomfortable, your combined sweat beginning to dry. You sat up from his sticky chest and winced due to the soreness and him still being tucked inside you. Jake was about to help you off of him when you froze. 
The entire couch was practically soaked. The cushions on either side of you were wet and you were positive the one below you had to be drenched. Your shirt was also wet, the lower half of it clinging to your skin, and Jake’s groin and belly showed remnants of liquid that had sprayed across him.
“Oh my god…” 
“Made quite the mess baby, but it’s okay,” He pulled you closer with a hand to the nape of your neck, “It was insanely hot.” He flashed you a smirk and placed a quick kiss to your lips. 
He helped you ease off of him and stand, holding your hands while you regained your balance on wobbly legs. When he was sure you could stand on your own he followed suit. Your guess was in fact correct. The cushion that had been below you was almost completely covered. 
Jake followed your wide eyes staring at the couch. As if sensing your anxiety he pulled the cushion out of the couch, turning it 180° before flipping it over and placing it back on the couch. He did the same with the others before looking back to you. 
“Good as new.” He pulled you into his side and kissed your hair. You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave him a thankful squeeze. 
“Thank you.” 
“Of course, baby. Now,” He squeezed you back before untangling himself from you to face you fully and hold both of your hands, “Let’s get you a new shirt and get back to the hotel so we can take a nice hot shower and clean you up. How does that sound?” 
“Like heaven.” You sighed dreamily feeling your body relax at just the mention of hot water cascading over your aching muscles. 
“Not quite,” Jake chuckled and shook his head, “You’re the only thing on this earth that’s like Heaven, baby.” 
“If I’m like Heaven, then what’re you?” 
He gave you a wicked grin and shot you a wink, holding his arms out as if presenting himself. 
“Welcome to Hell, angel.”
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