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brookerambles · 1 year

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four weddings and a funeral — part five

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⮡part one | part two | part three | part four

Series Summary: You and Danny haven’t spoken in years. When the two of you stumble upon a week of weddings, funerals, and the hotel rooms in between, will fate rekindle your friendship or put the old flames out altogether?

Chapter Summary: Danny's leaving tomorrow. You still have another wedding to go to, but can you bear to be so close to him knowing it's your last night together?

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Reader, Sam x Birdie | Genres: friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, mutual pining, angst | Word Count: 8.5k (yikes) | Chapter Warnings: drinking

A/N: Danny and Sunshine are back in the house!! This chapter's kinda long, but I think it's really cute and emotional - I hope you enjoy all the twists and turns! ♡

You woke in a tangle of sheets to a pounding headache.

It took you a minute to get your bearings; the sun was shining through the breezy curtains, bright and pretty but also kind of painful. You were still in your dress, but your jewelry had been taken off; a cautious touch to your face revealed that your makeup had been cleaned off too.

You turned your face away from the sunlight and found Danny close, his expression relaxed in sleep, his curls mussed and soft.

“Danny,” you said softly.

He gave a sleepy hum. “Wassa matter, sunny?” The hand that was resting on your hip pulled you closer, and it made you realize that your leg was hooked over his thigh.

You felt yourself blush at how close you were to him, how warm and steady he was beside you. You didn’t dare move, afraid to wake him and make him realize for fear he would pull away, afraid to pull away yourself if he wanted you close.

His eyes fluttered open when you didn’t answer. “You okay?”

His voice was gravelly and warm, and you hid your face against his chest to keep him from seeing how flustered it made you.

He chuckled. “What’s wrong, sunshine? You don’t feel good?”

You shook your head. “Headache.” Your stomach also felt like a butterfly rave, but that might have been more from the way he still hadn’t pulled away from you than from your hangover.

He hummed in agreement. “Me too. Maybe we should take it easy at the wedding tonight.”

“Oh!” You’d completely forgotten about your flight back home and the wedding only a few hours after you landed. “What time is it?”

He groaned a little as he turned to grab his phone from the nightstand. “Early, still. I set an alarm so we wouldn’t be late to the airport, and it hasn’t gone off yet.”

You relaxed then, thankful he’d seemingly taken care of everything when you’d been out of commission last night. He turned back to you again, making to pull you close; you wanted to rest against him and get a little bit more sleep, but your headache wouldn’t leave you be, and you were restless.

Danny noticed. “Let me get you some tylenol,” he offered, untangling himself from you and the sheets as gently as possible. “Be right back.”

He came back from the bathroom with his water bottle and some medicine. “Sit up, honey.”

You did, letting yourself enjoy the pet name, and took the medicine before handing him his water bottle so he could take a dose too. He tied his hair up in a messy bun, his faded band tee riding up over the hem of his shorts, and you blushed as you looked away.

“Here,” he said, handing you his water bottle back. “You gotta hydrate.”

You did as he said, pulling a little at the sleeves of your dress that were rubbing uncomfortably over your shoulders. You must have gotten more sun yesterday than you thought.

He gave you a sympathetic wince. “Yeah, I didn’t know if I should get you into pajamas last night, so I erred on the side of caution. I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable.”

He rummaged in his bag until he pulled out one of his huge, soft t-shirts. “Try this. It’ll be loose enough on you that it won’t bother your sunburn, hopefully.”

“Thank you,” you said, catching it when he tossed it to you. You gave him a teasing smile. “Are you sure you trust me with more of your clothes? I still haven’t returned your jacket from the funeral, remember?”

He smiled. “It’s all a part of my master plan,” he said. “The more clothes you steal, the more reasons I’ll have to see you after this wedding tonight.”

You felt a mix of emotions at that. You were thrilled that he wanted to keep seeing you, but you were also reminded that the wedding tonight was the last concrete plan you had to see each other. After tonight, what would realistically be enough to keep him from jetting back off to his fancy rockstar life without you?

You decided to set that thought aside for later, determined to enjoy what could very well be the last of your time with Danny.

“It’s a good plan,” you agreed. “I just think you better count on not getting any of these clothes back.”

He laughed. “I’m not that worried about it, sunny. I think it’s a fair trade, don’t you?”

A car ride, a plane ride, and another car ride later, you were standing blearily in front of the mirror in your bedroom, freshly showered, wondering how on earth you were going to make yourself presentable in less than two hours. This next wedding was sure to be filled with Danny’s swanky, rich, fashionable friends, and at the moment, you looked like you’d been run over by a truck.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Danny.

Text me what you want from Starbucks, the message read. I’ll be over around 6 to pick you up.

You smiled to yourself. You’d fallen back asleep on the plane, and he’d been very patient with you as he handled your bags, his bags, and your still very sleepy state in the airport after you landed. You sent him a message back and tossed your phone on the bed, gearing yourself up for a deep-dive into your closet for something to wear.

—

“That’s it! I’m not going.”

Danny frowned as you came out of your bathroom, looking you over head to toe with a thoughtful gaze.

“Why not?” he asked. “That’s a cute outfit.”

You cringed. “It’s not cute, Danny. It’s possibly the worst wardrobe choice I’ve ever made in my life.”

He smiled. “Dramatic, much?”

You huffed and went back into the bathroom to try on the next outfit, starting to get a little panicked about time and trying to prevent a major meltdown over getting ready. Since he’d gotten to your apartment, Danny had been patiently sitting on the edge of your bed; he hadn’t breathed a word of complaint as you tried on practically your entire closet in an effort to find something to wear, and he hadn’t even felt the need to remind you that both of you were going to be late if you didn’t hurry. He had also given you sweet, heartfelt compliments on every outfit right before you decided you hated it, and then he’d hung every discarded article of clothing neatly back in your closet. You almost didn’t know how to interact with a man who did things like that.

You decided not to read too much into it, though, not least because you were overwhelmed with the simple task of finding something halfway decent to wear. You slipped on the last dress you had, hoping you wouldn’t instantly hate it as soon as you looked in the mirror; it was a gauzy, fluffy thing in shades of pink and champagne, and you were surprised at how pretty you felt when you looked in the mirror.

Danny’s eyes widened when you came out to show him.

“Woah,” he said, looking a little like he’d taken a blow to the head. “That’s... uh, you look really pretty in that, sunny.”

You blushed and gave him a bashful smile. “This is the one, then?”

He nodded, still kind of dazed and dreamy. “Please don’t change out of that one.”

You laughed, amused and pleased at his request. “Okay.”

He came into the bathroom with you as you put the finishing touches on your look, watching you in the mirror for a minute as you put on dangly gold earrings and a shimmery lip gloss.

“Should I wear a different necklace?” he asked, brushing his fingers across the strings of pearls that rested over his black turtleneck. “I don’t match you with these.”

“No, keep them,” you said, a little embarrassed at how quickly you’d said it. There was something about a man as tall and broad as Danny was wearing something so pretty. “I... I like them. Keep them.”

He smiled. “Okay. I’ll keep them.”

You both spent a few more moments getting ready, adding glamorous touches to the soft beachy glow you both had from the wedding yesterday. You noticed that he looked at his watch, but he still didn’t hurry you along, and you were grateful for his patience.

“Okay,” you said briskly, taking one last look in the mirror. “Good?”

He smiled. “Good.”

He ushered you out to his car and opened the door for you, making sure all the fluffy tulle from your dress was safely out of the way before he closed it.

“Music?” he asked as he got in, handing you his phone. “The code’s 5480.”

“Oh,” you said, a little surprised that he’d just handed it over. “Uh, sure. What do you want to listen to?”

He put his hand on your headrest as he backed out of your driveway. “You pick.”

You tried to think of what to put on, a little distracted by the heady scent of his warm and woodsy cologne. You looked over at him for approval when you put on “The Boy with a Moon and Star on His Head,” and you were pleased when he smiled.

“I wonder what our stick figure couple is getting up to these days,” he said, as if you hadn’t just made them start a band last night.

“I guess we’ll have to see what this wedding brings,” you said. You were about to set his phone aside when a text popped up on the screen from someone named Emma, and you couldn’t help but skim it.

Can’t wait to see you tomorrow! it read, complete with a kissy face on the end.

You sucked in a breath. You felt bad for having read it, but all of a sudden, it felt like somebody had your heart in a vise grip. You locked his phone and set it in the cup holder, willing yourself to forget you’d even seen it.

Neither of you talked much on the drive to the wedding; Danny hummed along to the Cat Stevens playlist, and you looked out the window and tried not to think about Emma who couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow. You shouldn’t even know about it, let alone catastrophize because of it; it wasn’t your business who he texted or who texted him, kissy faces or not. He’d made no commitment to you or even hinted at making one. Danny was free to see anyone, anytime, for any reason. You had absolutely no right to be upset about it.

That didn’t stop it from hurting, though. You glanced over at him, watched him drum on the steering wheel in perfect time with the song. He looked over at you and smiled, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“How’s it going, sunny?” he asked. “Feeling down to clown tonight?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “You know me. I’m always ready to party.”

With a monumental effort, you pushed the thought of the text aside and promised yourself you’d have one last night of good memories with Danny. You felt a little nervous, though, as he pulled into the venue’s parking lot; you fidgeted with your sun necklace, the one you’d yet to take off since Danny had given it to you, and looked wide-eyed at the people milling around outside the place. It must have cost a pretty penny to rent it out, and you weren’t surprised by the lavish display of wealth in the guests that stood outside. All of a sudden, you felt just how “small-town” you were compared to everyone else there, including Danny.

He pulled into one of the last spots and turned the car off, sitting with you for a moment.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said.

You weren’t surprised that he’d noticed. You tried to stop fidgeting with your necklace and smoothed your hands over your skirt instead.

“Sure,” you said. “I’ll just waltz in there with all your fancy friends and feel totally cool and confident.”

He smiled. “You should,” he said easily. “You look beautiful, you’re smarter than anybody in there, and you’ve got me.”

You breathed a laugh. His presence would help more than he knew, and you planned to stick by him the entire time.

He offered his hand, and you smacked your palm against his.

“We got this,” he said.

You squeezed his hand. “We got this.”

He only let go of your hand long enough for both of you to get out of the car, and then you looped your arm around his and pressed close to his side.

“Please don’t try to introduce me to anybody,” you said.

Danny smiled as he looked over at you, amused and sympathetic as you tightened your grip on his arm.

“I only have two people I want to introduce you to,” he said. Before you could protest, he added, “I promise you’ll like them.”

You could tell it meant a lot to him that you at least spoke to these friends, and though you dreaded the thought of small talk with complete strangers, you would do it for Danny.

“But only those two, right?” you asked.

“Right,” he agreed. He gave you a teasing smile then. “Let me know if you change your mind, though. There’s plenty of people here to awkwardly introduce yourself to. Just say the word and I’ll make it happen.”

You hid your face against his shoulder. “No way. That sounds so horrible.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, sunny. I wouldn’t be so cruel to you.” He patted your hand where it rested in the crook of his arm. “Besides, I barely know anybody here myself.”

You looked up at him as you came inside the venue, content to let him find your spots for the ceremony.

“What are you talking about?” you said. “I thought this was one of your good friends who was getting married.”

He shrugged, a little distracted as he looked around the venue but still paying attention to you.

“He is, but I don’t really know any of his other friends.” He took a tastefully sleek program from one of the ushers. “He and his wife — well, almost wife — hang out with really artsy, fashionable people. I always feel kind of clumsy and awkward around them.”

You smiled. You could see how Danny might feel like a bull in a china shop sometimes, but you thought it was endearing.

“You don’t think you’re artsy and fashionable?” you asked.

Danny huffed a laugh. “No.” He caught sight of someone on the opposite end of the room and waved, a handsome smile lighting his face.

“I’ll show you somebody who definitely thinks he is, though,” he said. “And you’ll have to decide if his style is as goofy as I think it is.”

You bucked up your courage as Danny led you through the crowd, trying to guess which of these swanky wedding guests he was going to subject you to meeting. Maybe it was the guy in the bejeweled sweater vest, or the lady with the obscenely high heels. Maybe it was —

“Oh, shut up.”

Danny looked over at you. “What?”

You smacked a hand against his chest.

“Ow!” he laughed. “What was that for?”

“Hello!” you said, gesturing to the guy in a flowy red suit and sunglasses. “ That’s the friend you’re introducing me to? Freakin’... Sam Kiszka?”

Danny grinned. “I thought you said you weren’t a Greta Van Fleet fangirl.”

“They’re called gresties, Daniel,” you informed him, intentionally not telling him that you’d started to talk to other fans on Tumblr since the funeral. “I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

“Gresties?” he repeated. “Like... what? Greta Van Fleet besties?”

“Exactly.”

He laughed out loud. “Hey, that’s pretty good. Gresties. I like that.” He took your hand. “Let’s go tell Sam about the gresties. He’ll love to hear that.”

You hesitated, still a little nervous. Sam was watching the two of you with interest, leaning to talk to the pretty girl who stood with him, undoubtedly talking about you.

“Hey, sunny.”

You tore your gaze from Sam, looking up at Danny as he squeezed your hand. “Yes?”

He gave you a sweet smile.

“Don’t be nervous,” he reminded you. “It’s just Sam. He’s not as cool as you think he is.”

You managed a hesitant smile back. “That’s easy for you to say. You know him.”

“I want you to know him too,” Danny said sincerely. “Trust me. He’s gonna love you.”

You took a deep breath. “I must like you or something,” you muttered.

Danny grinned. “I like you too, sunny, so I guess that works out nicely.”

He held your hand as you went to meet Sam, and you tried not to let your nerves get the better of you. It made you feel better to see that the girl by Sam’s side looked a little shy too, and the two of you exchanged nervous and excited smiles even as you both sort of hid behind your guys.

Danny put a comforting hand to your back. “Sam, birdie — this is sunny.”

Sam pushed his sunglasses up into his hair and gave you a charmingly boyish grin.

“Nice to meet you, sunny,” he said. “I know we probably met a few times in middle school, but that doesn’t really count.”

You gave him a bashful smile back, still a little starstruck that you were meeting Sam Kiszka.

“Well, it’s good to meet you in a way that counts,” you said, and you earned a smile. “I know this is kind of lame to say, but... I’m a big fan of your music.”

“Not lame at all,” he assured you seriously. “I love to have my ego boosted.”

You laughed, and Sam’s girlfriend rolled her eyes, fondly exasperated and drawing confidence from her boyfriend’s humor.

“He’s not kidding,” she said, affection in her voice. She gave you a smile. “It’s wonderful to meet you, sunny. I’m birdie. And I promise I’m absolutely normal.”

You laughed. “Sweet. I love normal people.”

Sam looked at her with an amused gaze. “What do you mean, you’re absolutely normal? As if I’m not?”

“You are a famous rock star,” she reminded him. “I’m still a small town girl, so I’m less intimidating. I hope.”

“It does make you less intimidating,” you admitted. “I love your dress, by the way.”

She touched a hand to the shimmery rust-colored cocktail dress she wore.

“Oh, thank you! I haven’t had a chance to wear it yet, so this is the trial run.” She put her hand on her hip and posed next to Sam, even though he was talking with Danny.

“You don’t think we clash, do you?” she asked you.

Sam noticed she was posing and immediately posed too, obviously a natural ham. “Where’s the photographer, sweetheart?”

“I’m letting sunny judge our outfits,” she said. “Danny too.”

Danny tilted his head, seeming to take the task seriously. “Looks good. What’s wrong with them?”

“Well, we’re in the same color family,” she said. “I couldn’t decide if it was a good move or a fashion nightmare. What do you think, sunny?”

You smiled and shook your head. “No, I think you look great together.” Side by side, their reds, rusts, and golds gave a warm and inviting aura of a confident, lovely couple, one you wanted to get to know better.

“See?” Sam said. “You worry too much, birdie. You know you’re pretty enough for both of us, no matter what we wear.”

She gave him a slightly bashful smile, pleased with his compliment. “Thanks, honey.”

He gave her cheek a big, goofy kiss, and she giggled and pushed him away. Your chest felt a little tight at the display, endeared at their affection for each other and wishing you had someone to share such tenderness with.

Danny took your hand again, and your breath caught a little.

“Come on, lovebirds,” Danny teased his friends. “Let’s go find our spots.”

You got settled in one of the middle rows, and Danny and Sam fell into conversation almost immediately. You enjoyed listening to them talk and laugh together; their friendship seemed so natural and close-knit, and Birdie was obviously a good friend of Danny’s too.

They tried to include you in their conversation, and you were thankful for their kindness, but you were too distracted to really engage with them.

“Oh, sunny!”

You looked over at Danny, wondering what could have gotten him so excited. You smiled just because he was.

“What?” you asked.

“I totally forgot I brought you a present,” he said, reaching into the inside pocket of his blazer. “I didn’t know if it would go with what you were wearing, but I figured you might want to try it.”

He pulled out a beautiful pearl ring, one that matched the string of pearls he wore. He held it in his palm and offered it to you, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of anything to say.

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” he said, his voice unsure, his fingers closing reflexively over it. “I just thought you might — ”

“No, I do,” you said quickly, reaching out to take it from him. Your throat felt tight when you took the ring from his big, warm palm and his fingers traced over yours.

“It’s beautiful,” you said softly. “I was just surprised.”

“Why?” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Pretty things should be worn by pretty girls.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and tried not to cry. It was so stupid — it was just a little gift, a bit of jewelry he’d let you wear. It didn’t mean anything. You wondered almost absently if he’d ever given jewelry to Emma, the girl who’d texted him in the car.

“I think it should fit you,” he said. “It’s a little small for my big strong drummer hands.”

You managed a wobbly smile as you put it on the middle finger of your left hand. One more finger over, and...

You held your hand up for Danny to see. “How does it look?”

He smiled and took your hand in his, brushing his thumb over the surface of the pearl.

“Beautiful,” he said. “Just like you, sunny.”

You looked over at him. “And now we match,” you said, trying for lightheartedness when all you felt like doing was crying or kissing him.

He grinned. “As we should.”

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. He was beautiful in the orange and gold light of sunset coming through the high windows, all warm and sweet and genuine as he smiled at you. All of a sudden, the uncertainty and the longing and the awful fear caught up to you — Danny was going home tomorrow, and despite his reassurances that he wanted to see you again, you knew you’d be left with nothing but a ring on the wrong finger and the pieces of your heart in your hands.

His brow knit with worry as he looked at you, and you knew you weren’t hiding your feelings as well as you wanted to.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

You didn’t know what you should say, or if you should even say anything at all. “Danny, I — ”

Music started to play, cutting off your quiet plea and drawing everyone’s attention to the back of the hall. You and Danny stood with everyone else, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you.

You shook your head, trying to tell him it was fine, that he didn’t need to worry.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t say anything; after a moment, he held out his hand, wanting to comfort you without even knowing what was wrong.

You felt the sting of tears and blinked them back. You took his hand and let yourself be comforted by his touch, even though you knew it would be better to get used to being without him.

He held your hand through the ceremony, and you watched his face with an ache of loneliness as his friends exchanged their vows. Even though you knew how unreasonable it was to care for him so deeply after only a few days, you couldn’t deny what you felt; you’d love him forever, together or not, and the pain of losing him had already started while he was still holding your hand.

You barely registered the end of the wedding. You thought you heard Danny tell Sam and Birdie that you’d catch up to them at the reception, and then Danny put his hand to your cheek.

“Hey,” he said gently. His eyes were impossibly kind as he studied your face.

“Hey, yourself,” you said.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek. “What’s wrong, sunny? Do you feel okay? You want to go home?”

You shook your head. “I feel fine. I want to stay.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to. Maybe you’re ready for a break.”

“A break?” you said bleakly. A break from what? It wouldn’t be a break; it would be the end, and you wouldn’t hurry it along any faster than it was already coming.

You looked up at him and managed a smile.

“I’m okay, Danny, really.” You put your hand over his. “Let’s go drink and dance and have a grand old time.”

He looked a little doubtful, but he didn’t press. He took your hand as you walked together to the reception in the next wing of the venue.

“But you let me know if you want to leave, okay?” he said. “You promise?”

You nodded, knowing you wouldn’t. “I promise.”

The reception was slated to go all night, and for all of their classiness, the guests certainly knew how to party. You lost yourself a little bit in the booze and the dancing, sticking with Danny and Sam and Birdie as you moved from the bar to the dance floor and back again.

“Hey!” Birdie said, tugging on Sam’s hand. “There’s no line for the photo booth if we go right this very second.”

He followed her happily, and you and Danny went too. You let Sam and Birdie go first, grinning to each other at the sounds of bubbly laughter from behind the curtain, and weren’t surprised when Sam stepped out with his face covered in lipstick kisses.

Danny laughed. “You look like you’re in a cartoon, Sam.”

Sam beamed as he got their pictures, happy as could be when his girl took his hand and to lead him onto the dance floor again. “Some cartoon, huh!”

Danny held the curtain back for you. “Shall we?”

The two of you tried to squish together in the little booth, both of you laughing and tipsy and flushed. One of you must have accidentally pushed the button, because you heard it counting down to your first picture.

“Hurry!” you said, both of you laughing breathlessly as you tried to get into place before the shutter sound. You tripped over Danny’s feet and grabbed onto his shoulder to keep from careening out of the booth; to the same end, he took you by the waist and plunked you down on his lap.

“Settle down now,” he said, trying to be stern but unable to keep up the act as you started to giggle. He smiled up at you, laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes, flashing those little fangs you loved so much; he looked at you like you’d hung the moon, and as you cradled his face in your hands, you felt the fragile part of your heart finally crack in two.

“What is it?” he asked gently.

I’m dying of love for you, Danny. “Nothing.”

You moved your hands and leaned your head against his. “Let’s get one picture where we’re actually looking at the camera.”

He squeezed you tight as the last photo counted down. “Big smile!”

When you got your strip of photos, you almost couldn’t bear to look at them. The joy you felt at being with him was captured there in black and white — a blurry picture of your laughing attempts to fit in the booth, the surprise on your face and the grin on his when he’d put you on his lap, the tenderness in your expression when you’d touched his face, both of your big smiles when you pressed as close as you could get to each other. You swallowed past the tightness in your throat and handed the strip to Danny.

“You don’t want them?” he asked.

“No, I — ” You cleared your throat. “Um, I don’t have anywhere to keep them. Will you hold on to them for me?”

“Oh. Sure.” He tucked them in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Where to next, sunshine?”

“The bar,” you said. You needed another drink. You needed a whole bottle.

He followed you without complaint, and when you got another round of drinks, you hardly tasted yours. You felt caught somewhere between giddiness and a terrible urge to cry, hysterical and drunk and just barely able to keep from telling Danny Wagner in front of god and everybody that you were in love with him.

“We should dance,” you said, needing an outlet for the jittery, anxious pressure building in your chest.

Danny didn’t move from where he’d leaned up against the counter, watching you with an amused smile.

“Where do you get all this energy from, sunny?” he asked.

You took another sip of your drink, feeling so keyed-up you thought you might go crazy. Didn’t he feel anything between you? You thought you would suffocate if you didn’t get out from under the weight of how much you wanted him.

Your hands fluttering nervously like the wings of a bird, you reached for him.

“Come on,” you said, and the words had barely gotten out of your mouth before somebody knocked into you from behind, sending you straight into Danny’s arms.

“Woah, hold on,” he said, hurrying to catch you even as your drink sloshed over the sleeve of his jacket and the front of your dress.

You heard a heartfelt apology from behind you, and then Danny’s assurance that you were both fine.

“Right?” he asked you, still holding your arms to make sure you were steady. “You’re good, sunny?”

You couldn’t answer, suddenly overcome with tears, trying in vain to clean his sleeve off even though it was soaked.

“Sunny?” he said again, a little worried this time. He ducked his head to see your face. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” you said miserably, “but your jacket — I’m sorry, Danny.”

He glanced over at the sleeve you were trying to fix as if he’d only just noticed it. “My jacket?” he said. “Sunny, I’m not worried about my jacket. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied. You didn’t know why this had been the final straw, but all of a sudden you were overwhelmed with everything, exhausted and completely overcome.

“I’m s-sorry I spilled my stupid drink on you, Danny,” you all but sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey.” He took your now-empty glass from you and set it on the bar, then framed your face with his big hands and made you look at him. He was searching your face with such worry, and your expression crumpled like a little girl’s.

“Sunshine,” he said, at a loss, unsure why this had upset you so badly. “Please don’t cry, honey. It’s really not a big deal. I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”

He looked so bewildered you felt a slash of pity for him. “Of course I’m not. It was an accident, and it wasn’t even your fault.” He drew back just enough to look you over. “Oh, and you got the worst of it, too. You’re soaked, honey.”

You hadn’t even noticed. You looked down at the front of your pretty dress and saw it was dark and splotchy.

“Now, you don’t have to cry about that either,” Danny said quickly, a little panicked as he tried to avert another crisis. “I don’t think it’ll stain, but we’ll rinse it out just to make sure. Come on.”

You looked up at him, trying to catch your breath and stop crying. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, looking around for something at the bar; he grabbed a few napkins and did his best to wipe the tears from your face.

“I gotta start wearing a pocket square,” he said under his breath, gently blotting the napkins against your cheeks.

You couldn’t help the watery laugh that escaped you. “Why, so you can get my mascara all over it?”

He gave you a gentle smile. “No, so I can have something soft for you when you cry.”

That almost started you crying again, but you managed to stop after only a few tears had streaked down your cheeks.

“Okay, sunshine,” he said tenderly. “Let’s go up to my room so we can get you cleaned up.”

“You’re staying here?” you asked. You didn’t know the venue had a hotel too, but you were glad you didn’t have to travel anywhere in your wet dress.

He hummed in agreement and took your hand. “Come on, sunny.”

You followed his lead, content to let him find a path through the carousing guests; you didn’t meet Sam and Birdie on the way, but you saw that Danny sent them a text to let them know you were headed upstairs.

It was much quieter when you got out of the reception hall, and you were thankful for it even though your ears were still ringing with the music. You leaned against Danny in the elevator, holding tight to his hand; you still felt fragile, like you were liable to shatter to pieces at any moment. Danny gave your hand a reassuring squeeze every once in a while as you made your way to his room.

Inside, Danny left you for a moment to turn on the bathroom light.

“Is that too much?” he asked when he came back to your side. “I think I’m a little overstimulated. I figured you’re probably feeling that way too.”

You nodded, sure he was right. “That light’s fine,” you said meekly. “Thank you.”

He hovered for a moment, seemingly unsure what to do to help.

“Let me get you something to change into,” he said, going to search through his luggage. “Yeah. That seems like the smart thing to do.”

You watched him with an incredible ache of tenderness, not sure why any man would care for you so selflessly, not sure anything in the world could keep from tying your heart to his for as long as you lived.

“Here,” he said, handing you a stack of neatly folded clothes. “I don’t think I have any bottoms that would fit you, but...”

“I have biker shorts under my dress,” you said.

“Oh,” he said. He looked less sure of himself than he ever had. “Well, good. You can pick whatever you want out of that to wear, and if you want something else, just let me know.”

“Thank you.” You hesitated before you turned to head for the bathroom. “Um, Danny?”

“Yeah?”

You felt shy to ask, for some reason. “Could you unzip my dress? I can’t, um...”

“Of course,” he said, and you felt that his hands were shaking when he brushed your hair over your shoulder and pulled the zipper down.

“Thank you,” you said again. You turned to face him; for a moment, in the quiet darkness of his room, there was nothing in the world but you two and the few inches of space between.

You shook yourself. If you’d stood there a moment longer, you’d have done something that couldn’t be taken back, and you couldn’t decide if it was wise or incredibly foolish to have let the moment pass.

“Right,” you said, flustered, raw with emotion. “Um, thanks. Again.”

You fled into the relative safety of the bathroom, kicking yourself for being so awkward, so girlish, so in love with him it made you act like an idiot. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror; you were a wreck, makeup smudged and tear-streaked, dress soaked and bedraggled. You winced.

When you’d rinsed your dress in the sink and hung it over the shower curtain, you washed your face and dressed in Danny’s clothes. He’d given you a t-shirt and a soft fair isle sweater and a pair of black socks way too big for you. You wore them anyway, the heel part coming to the bottom of your calf, and felt much more relaxed in his comfortable clothes that smelled like him.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed when you came out, his jacket discarded over the back of a chair but otherwise still dressed in his wedding outfit. He looked as tense as you’d felt downstairs, and you wondered what was bothering him.

His phone lit up with a text where he’d set it on the bed. He quickly turned it off.

Oh. You felt kind of numb to it now. Maybe it was Emma again, or maybe it was some other girl who couldn’t wait to see him when he was done having to take care of you.

He gave you a weak smile. “Feel better?”

You nodded and scrubbed your face with the too-long sleeves of his sweater, tired and starting to sober up. “A little. Do you have a hair tie?”

He took one off his wrist. “Come here.”

You did, not entirely sure why, standing between his knees like you’d be able to handle it. He gathered your hair with gentle brushes of his fingers, but he couldn’t get the angle he wanted; he stood and towered over you again, and for all your numbness, you could no more keep from hugging him than you could keep the stars from shining.

He breathed a laugh. “You okay?”

You nodded against him, hugging him tighter. You felt tears start again and valiantly managed to keep them from falling.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said.

He finished putting your hair up and hugged you to him, running a soothing hand over your back. “You’re welcome, sunny. It’s my pleasure.”

As much as you wanted to stay close and let him comfort you, you made yourself pull back from him. You took a deep, shaky breath; it was time to rip the band-aid off, and you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry.

“If you’ll take me home,” you said, “I’ll change out of these clothes and get the other things I borrowed. That way you don’t have to make another trip tomorrow.”

He blinked. “Uh... I mean, of course I’ll take you home if you’re ready to leave. But I don’t mind coming by tomorrow. My flight’s not until later.”

You shook your head, wishing he wouldn’t drag it out any longer. “That’s okay. It’ll save you the trouble.”

His phone buzzed again, but he ignored it.

“It’s no trouble,” he insisted. “I thought we... I don’t know, that we might go for that coffee date we keep talking about.”

You’d forgotten about that. You’d been too busy daydreaming about your fiftieth coffee date to remember that you hadn’t even had one.

“Danny, I...” Your throat felt tight again, close to crying. You didn’t want him to think he owed you some consolation prize; he could just go, and these last few days would be nothing but a fond memory. “We don’t have to.... You don’t have to...”

His hopeful expression shuttered into one of resignation and something like hurt.

“You don’t want to,” he said, and it was a statement, not a question.

You couldn’t think of how to tell him that going on a stupid coffee date with him was the most important thing in the world to you, that it meant so much more to you than just one date. His phone lit up with a text, again, and the tangle of hurt and fear and longing in your chest finally burst apart.

“Why don’t you answer her?” you asked, gesturing to his phone. “She’s obviously trying to get in touch with you.”

He frowned. “Who?” He looked behind him to where you’d gestured and saw only his phone.

“Is it Emma?” you asked, knowing it was bitter and petty to bring it up, but you were unable or unwilling to bite your tongue any longer. “Or is it some other girl waiting for you as soon as you finally get rid of me?”

He looked at you with utter bewilderment and a hint of frustration. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “There’s not any other girls, and I’m not trying to get rid of you.”

Another text. You felt lightheaded.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” you snapped. “She’s ringing your phone off the hook, Danny. She has been since she told you she ‘can’t wait to see you tomorrow’.”

He didn’t say anything, and there was a storm of emotion in his expression that you couldn’t quite make out. Anger, confusion, anxiety, embarrassment — you were surprised to see each one in the flash of his dark eyes and the tight set of his jaw.

He picked up his phone and handed it to you. “Read the texts.”

“She doesn’t want me, Danny.”

“Read. The. Texts.”

You took his phone, startled into obedience by his tone. You saw the texts were from Sam, not from Emma or some other girl, and immediately felt guilty.

“Never mind,” you said, trying to hand his phone back. “I don’t — I’m sorry, I — ”

“No, go ahead.” His voice was low. “Read them, sunny. Since you’re so sure you’ve got me all figured out.”

You looked helplessly at the screen, skimming dozens of texts between him and Sam. Your gaze snagged on one phrase, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

I love her. It was right there in front of you, a message from the boy you loved to his best friend. I love her. I don’t know if I should tell her.

You looked up at him, afraid to ask if it was real. “What is this?”

He gave you an incredulous look. “What do you mean, ‘what is this’?” he said. “What does it look like, sunny?”

You looked back down at the texts.

Tell her!!! Sam had replied. Birdies says you should too.

It’s not crazy?? Danny had sent back. We haven’t even kissed! No way. It’s insane. I can’t tell her.

Come on man, Sam said. When you know you know. Tell her tonight. Don’t wait.

Danny hadn’t sent anything back after that. You guessed that had been when you’d walked in, and the messages you’d been so bothered by had been Sam pestering Danny for an update.

Suddenly the messages blurred in a wash of tears, and you pushed his phone back into his hands and covered your face.

He sighed. “Sunny...” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Look, this doesn’t have to be a whole thing. I’m sorry I lost my temper and made you read those texts. I’ll drive you home, and then you never have to see me again.”

You looked up, awash with tears. “You don’t want to see me again?”

He looked stricken at your voice. “No! I mean, yes! I mean...” He held his hands out to you, helpless, pleading. “Of course I want to see you again. I want to see you every single day for the rest of my life because I love you, sunny. But now you’re crying again, and I have no idea how you feel about me saying that, and — oof!”

He grunted a little as you all but threw yourself into his arms, surprised but still steady as he caught you against him.

“What is this?” he asked, repeating your question from earlier.

You pulled back just enough to look at his face. His expression caught between fear and hope, and you loved him more than you could ever say.

“What do you mean, ‘what is this’?” you said. You touched your hands to his cheeks and gave a watery laugh. “I love you too, Danny.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth than he’d taken you in a tight hug and stood to spin you around.

“Yes!” he yelled, exultant, boyish and sincere. “Yes! Oh, thank god!”

You giggled as he spun you one more time, dizzy and happy and so in love with him you could barely stand it. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you would get such an enthusiastic response to a love confession, and you adored him for it.

He set you gently on your own two feet but still held you close.

“I love you,” he said. “Is that crazy?”

You laughed. “No. I don’t think it’s crazy at all. I love you too.”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you, warm and passionate and sweet. When he finally let you come up for air, you looked up at his beloved face.

“I love you, Danny,” you said softly.

He smiled. “I love you too, sunshine.”

He kissed you again, and you could have stayed like that forever if Danny’s phone hadn’t gone off over and over again.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Danny muttered between kisses.

You smiled, affectionate towards Danny’s friends who just wanted to make sure he was happy.

“Tell him,” you said. “He’s not going to stop until you do.”

Danny gave you a few more kisses, attempting to leave you after each one, drawn back to you irresistibly and met with your laughter and sweet kisses in return.

“Go,” you laughed, giving him a light push towards the bed where his phone lay with several texts on the screen.

He did, reluctantly, but he was pleased that you came to sit next to him at the end of the bed as he scanned through Sam’s texts.

“Look at this,” Danny said with a fond, mildly exasperated laugh. He showed you the text thread and scrolled through a number of texts all bearing virtually the same messages: did you tell her? how did it go?

“What are you gonna say?” you asked.

He showed you the text he sent. I told her. Is it possible to die of happiness?

“Aw, Danny,” you said softly. You gave him a gentle kiss, and he melted against you.

Sam texted back, and both of you laughed when you read it.

HOLY SHIT??? to answer your question I don’t think so otherwise birdie would have killed me by now but CONGRATS BROTHER!!!!

A few seconds later, he texted again. Birdie says she wants to have lunch tomorrow and hear everything from both of you but for now we’ll shut up and leave you to it!!!! Go get ‘em tiger!!!

“Oh, god,” Danny said with an embarrassed laugh. He locked his phone and tossed it on the bed. “Well, there you have it. The thrilling saga of texting my friends who apparently made it their personal mission to see that I told you all my dirty secrets.”

He laid back on the bed, and you remembered there were still secrets you hadn’t gotten the answer to. You were content to forget it, though, not wanting to bring up anything that might ruin the perfect balance of happiness and excitement between you.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

He gave you a knowing smile. “You’re thinking real hard about something, sunny. Tell me. Do you want to ask me something?”

You didn’t know whether to like that he could read you so easily or to blush at the thought that every emotion played across your face as you felt it.

“Kind of,” you admitted, “but it doesn’t matter. It’s not a big deal.”

“Should be an easy thing to answer, then.” He tugged very gently on the necklace he’d given you. “You should know right from the beginning that you can talk to me about anything, sunshine. I promise.”

Your heart wobbled a little. “Thank you,” you said, and you meant it.

“You don’t have to thank me, but you’re welcome.” He tenderly brushed his knuckles against your jaw. “What do you want to ask me, sunny?”

You took a deep breath.

“Who’s Emma?” you finally asked. “The... the girl who can’t wait to see you tomorrow?”

He gave you a kind smile.

“She does my hair,” he said.

You felt a searing flash of embarrassment. “No she doesn’t.”

He laughed. “Yes, she does. I’m getting highlights tomorrow.”

You winced, mortified at yourself and your overreaction. You covered your face with your hands.

“Oh, Danny. I’m really sorry.”

“Why? You don’t think I’d look good with highlights?”

You couldn’t answer, and he chuckled as he propped himself up on his arm, pulling your hands away from your face with his free hand.

“It’s okay, sunny,” he said consolingly. “I get it.”

“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions,” you said. “I’m sorry, Danny. It wasn’t any of my business who you were texting or who was texting you anyway.”

“But she sent me a kissy face,” he said sympathetically. “I understand why you were upset, sweetheart.”

Your heart jumped at the pet name, and you couldn’t stifle the nervous, giddy laugh that bubbled out of you.

He grinned. “What was that cute little laugh for?” he asked. “Did you like it when I called you sweetheart?”

You covered your face with your hands again, blushing hot. “No.”

He chuckled. “Come here, sunshine. If you hide behind your hands every time you blush, we’re gonna be in trouble.”

He tugged gently on your wrist, and you followed until you leaned your head against his shoulder with a soft thump.

“You are my sweetheart,” he said tenderly, amused and affectionate. He kissed your cheek. “My baby love, my dearest, my pretty girl. My honey bunch.”

You smiled. “Your honey bunch?”

“Yeah, you like that one?” he said with a soft laugh. He peppered gentle kisses over your cheeks. “Let me take you on a date tonight, honey bunch. A real one, not a wedding.”

“But we like going to weddings.”

“We do,” he agreed. “But I think we need something a little more low-key, like some late-night Thai food.”

You lifted your head from his shoulder. “I actually know a good Thai place around here.”

“Sweet. Let’s go.” He gave you a quick kiss as he stood, and you were a little stunned with how easy it was, how casual and wonderful it was to be kissed like that.

He looked mildly worried when you didn’t stand with him. “You okay? You want to go somewhere else?”

You shook your head. “No.” You took the hand he offered you. “Can you kiss me again?”

He smiled and pulled you close. “Sunshine, I’ll kiss you until you’re sick of me.”

“Not possible.”

“Oh yeah?” He leaned close to kiss you again. “Well, I guess it can’t hurt to find out.”

danny taglist: @tearsofbri @busybeingtrash @myway-late @gotavansleep @gretavanbri @stardustchxrds @pxppylove @mariegvf

fic taglist: @streamsofstardust

gvf taglist: @malany-gvf @spark-my-nature @eearevee @madneedshelp @demonrat444 @josh-iamyour-mama @honeyandsweettae @mydarlingdanny @gretavandann @sacredjake @myleftsock @joshskittytickler21 @hellowgoodbye @watchingovergvf2 @fearfulspirit @mywaysoon @carbondancingthroughtime @caprisunsister @eraofstardustchords @sacredthefran @shesawomaninadream @serendipiti @demonrat444 @wildflowerxx-x

@gvfrry @ohhey1293 @the-chaotic-cow @mountain-in-springtime @xserenax-13 @stardustjtk @brooke-gvf @weightofdreams-gvf @jakeydoesit @gretasmokerising @hayley1623 @doodle417 @finestoflines @brokenbellz @bowievanfleet @s0livagant @strugglingtodoshit @s-u-t @kay-jordan @gretavanfleas @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavansteph @gretavanbitches @myownparadise96 @luverleaver @weightofdreamz @greatervanfleet @maedesculpaeusoubi @jakekiszkasbestie @pineapple-photographer @baguettejuliette @alexxavicry @levi-wants-ur-bones @carlybubs @cowboysamkiszka @dannyandthekiszkas @jordierama @slutforsteve @starshine-wagner

sorry if tumblr didn’t tag you — it’s stupid sometimes. but i’m real thankful for you, sweet peaches! and if you’re a new bestie and would like to be added to my taglist, check out the form right here!

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brookerambles · 1 year

Photo

billboard, november 2017 // billboard, october 2018

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brookerambles · 1 year

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my only question is why are the kiszkas shirtless and not danny?? why are they covering my man in a deconstructed disco ball??? his body is UNREAL and the people (me) need to see it!!

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brookerambles · 1 year

Text

hand kink girlies (gendy nooch) assemble

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brookerambles · 1 year

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this is making my josh down so much worse

Bad Girlfriend - Josh Kiszka

A/N: HERE IT IS! The long awaited brat!tamer Josh fic. Not gonna lie, once I started writing this… I realized that Josh is most definitely a soft dom, if anything. I struggled with this truthfully. I wrote, deleted and wrote again so many times. I hope you all love it, though! I love and adore all of you so much. Thank you for your endless support <3 Lots more to come!

WARNINGS: 18+ minors DNI! light arguing, lots of language, brattiness, brat tamer!Josh, light sir!kink, slapping, hair pulling, choking, orgasm denial/edging/orgasm control, degrading, a little praise, bondage, oral (F receiving), fingering, unprotected sex.

NEW Masterlist

••••

Everyone knew that behind closed doors, Josh was pretty easygoing. He constantly went with the flow of things… always playing with the hand he was dealt.

In most ways, you were like that, too.

Key words, ‘most ways.’

You and Josh were insanely flexible in the bedroom. Both of you loved to be submissive and dominant, depending on one another’s mood. You had explored many different kinks and such, most of which, you both loved.

Lately, however, you had admittedly spoiled Josh into being more so the submissive one. You had absolutely no issues with at first - in fact, you fucking loved it.

Until you started to miss his dominant side…

It aggravated you to no end that Josh wasn’t picking up your sly, playful little hints that you wanted him to take charge more. Your little moments of brattiness didn’t even seem to phase him.

You were completely lost on what to do.

Obviously, the best thing to do would be to just outright tell him what you wanted.

Where would be the fun in that, though?

There were little ideas floating around in the deepest crevices of your mind. Ideas that you scolded yourself for even pondering on for too long. Insisting to yourself that it would be ‘going too far.’

But what was really “too far,” for Josh? You’d never really seen him get mad… so, you didn’t really know.

Not really knowing, only fueled your curiosity and mild desperation to find out. Something about pushing his buttons just enough, until he finally cracks and puts you back in your rightful place, made your stomach turn with butterflies.

Sweet, devious, little butterflies.

“Baby?” Josh called from what you assumed was your bedroom.

You got up from the couch, making your way towards the sound of his voice. Just as you thought, he was tucked away in the closet, searching for something to wear to the studio.

“Yeah, babe? You called for me?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, smiling softly. “You wanna come with me to the studio today? It shouldn’t be a long session.”

You mulled it over for a moment, considering that the ‘it shouldn’t be a long session’ statement, was probably not true. Your idea and his idea of long, were entirely different. But in light of wanting to spend the extra time with your man, you agreed.

“Okay,” You returned his little smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Should I drive myself…?”

He scoffed at your playful insult to his previous words. “I swear we won’t be there long, mama.” Josh promised, pulling his shirt over his head. “Just finishing one song. Remember that cover we decided to add? Of ‘The Great Gig In The Sky’?”

Retreating to your own dresser in search of a different shirt to throw on, You mumbled a soft “mhm,” remembering the song they had decided to add last minute.

Once you were ready, you both jumped in Josh’s truck and tore off for the studio - late, as usual for him.

“For fucks sake,” Josh muttered, glancing at the clock on the radio. “Jake is gonna fucking bitch at me.”

You gave him an apologetic look, unsure of what to say to actually sooth him. He was right, Jake was definitely going to bitch at him for being so late.

Throughout the remainder of the car ride, you tried not to let your anxiety get to you, thanks to Josh’s excessive speeding.

It was honestly a little bit hot; the way he gripped his steering wheel, the littlest bit of sweat forming over his nose. He was usually always running late, however today he seemed more antsy than ever to get to the studio.

Looking him over, trying to only subtly look over at him every so often… your mind started throwing filthy scenarios at you, rapid fire. Within a minute, you were getting hotter and needier than ever.

‘This is it. This is my chance to piss him off.’ There was that little voice again, sounding so like you, but nothing like you all at once.

It was a terrible idea to piss him off in his work place, but the situation couldn’t have played out any better. Josh was already frazzled. Jake was sure to add to it and who knew, maybe you’d be presented with a moment to throw your bratty two-sense in when it wasn’t asked for.

When you finally arrived, Josh practically slammed into the side of the building as he whipped the Jeep into an open parking spot.

“Jesus Christ, Josh!” You practically shouted, scolding him for his pretty reckless driving.

“Just come on, baby!” He was already out of the car and slamming the door.

You scrambled out, turning around as you closed the passenger door to see he was already sprinting through the front doors.

His name rolled off your tongue in a tired huff.

“Geez, Joshua…”

After having to sprint to catch up with him -barely, might you add- The two of you stumbled over each other through the door of the guys’ recording room.

“Josh, you’re 45 fucking minutes late.” Jake huffed, already showing a sour mood. His eyes followed his twin with a not so subtle glare.

“You’ve only been here 10 minutes, Jake. Shut up.” Sam piped up. Kiszka number three with a foul mood.

“Geez, can you let a man get through the fucking door before you-“

“Alright! Alright.” Danny’s firm voice cut in between all three of them, effectively shutting them up. “Let’s just get this song done and then we can all have the rest of the day to do… whatever.” As he finished, he looked up from his drum kit and flashed you his warm smile. “Also, hi Y/N.”

You offered a warm smile right back. “Hi, Danny.”

Josh scoffed, glancing between Jake and Sam in annoyance. “At least one of you bastards has enough sense to greet the woman in the room, before you start hurling bitchy comments around.”

Jake and Sam both gave you sheepish looks and gentle apologies. Of course, they already knew they’d be forgiven. You saw them all the time and didn’t care for the formalities that Josh was insisting upon. You just chalked that up to his snappy and anxious mood.

They didn’t waste anymore time jumping into the song and It couldn’t have been more than a minute in, before Jake was halting the whole song.

“Okay- stop, stop, stop!” Jake shouted. Everyone came to a grinding and agonizing, halt.

Sam was the first to look to Jake in annoyance from behind the keys. “Jake, what-“

“Something is off. It’s flat as fuck.” Jake cut his brother off, explaining why he stopped them. “Just… make sure your chords and notes are right while I check my tuning. Please.”

“My piano is always tuned, Jacob.” Sam commented smartly, splaying his hands out over a number of keys obnoxiously. “And I know my chords and shit are right, thank you very much.”

The cringe that took over Josh and Danny’s faces had you biting back a laugh. Jake paused his own movements, looking up at his little brother with an incredulous look.

“Can you… i don’t know…” Jake shrugged cooly. “Fix your fucking mouth!?”

Your eyes flicked between the two of them rapidly as you tried to bite back the stream of giggles that was still threatening to bubble out of you. Tensions were high, sure, but that didn’t make their squabbles any less entertaining - especially since you weren’t part of it.

“For the love of god, just fix your shit and let’s keep going.” Josh spoke up through gritted teeth, fixing both his brothers with a very ill tempered glare.

Sam and Jake both reluctantly touched up the tuning of instruments and checked over chords.

Once they were ready, they picked back up at the very beginning of the song.

Surprisingly, they made it a lot farther, not coming to another stop until Josh’s voice cracked on a high note and Sam waved his hand in the air to stop everyone. Again.

Danny just sighed, but Jake’s face turned red with frustration - as did Josh’s.

“Josh, come on, bro-“

“I’m fucking trying, Sam! We’ve recorded every single day this week! My voice is tired as shit and this song is very vocally demanding!” Josh defended his end. “In case you didn’t know that.”

This is it. Do it.

That little voice in your head made itself very known for the second time, egging you on.

You couldn’t take it anymore, so you pushed past the nerves and let your mouth take off with the brattiest thing your brain could muster. “You say that like you don’t sing every night on tour.”

Danny’s jaw was the first to drop, followed by Sam’s snicker that had Josh’s jaw visibly locking up in anger.

Josh’s eyes practically burned through you, melting you with their silent warning to shut up.

“She… she has a point, Joshua.” Sam finally cleared his throat to say.

“We don’t even perform for 7 nights in a row!” Josh raised, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Be fucking serious, Samuel.”

“Okay, enough! Can we just start over?” It was Jake’s turn to plead.

Sam started it off on the keys again, and you admired how amazing he was at it. You didn’t get to sit and listen to them without the harsh sounds of screams surrounding you, so this was a breath of fresh air.

They breezed through the song flawlessly, the energy in the room lightening up just a bit.

That was, until Josh had very obviously forgotten one of the high notes. He stumbled around, trying to find his pitch again and instead groaned straight into his microphone.

“Are you fucking kidding me.” Josh threw his head back in pure annoyance, hands splaying out over his face.

Every part of his body that you could see, looked tense and shiny with sweat.

“Josh, you said you went over this song at home….” Jake sighed, rubbing his hand over his own face.

“I did!” Josh snapped, leaving out how little he’d actually gone over it.

You took that as your chance to rat him out a little, against your better judgement.

“I don’t think going through it once in the shower is really ‘going over it’, baby.”

“Oh, shit-” Danny covered his mouth with his drumsticks, fighting to hold it together.

Danny, ever the observant one, shot you a cheeky look. He knew what you were doing. Based on Sam’s pink cheeks, he’d obviously caught on, too. Either that, or the tensions rapidly rising back up in the room were making him nervous.

“I swear to god…” Josh gave you a verbal warning instead of just a look, letting you know he was reaching his limit with your shit - exactly what you wanted.

Thoughtlessly, another witty, but poorly timed remark flew out of you.

“Do you want me to pull up the lyrics for you, Josh?”

Jake, Danny and Sam all busted out into untamable laughter. Between the heaviness in the room, Josh’s stunned face and the comment itself -considering there were not really “lyrics” to speak of in the song they were desperately trying to record- none of them stood a chance in holding it in any longer.

You and Josh stared each other down, the sounds of his brothers’ laughter fading out into background noise. The smirk on your face was full of pride and satisfaction, your eyes twinkling with the mischief that you were hoping he would finally catch on to.

His eyes narrowed until they were practically closed, looking threatening and darker than you’d ever seen. His whole expression seemed just out of character enough, that it was just the slightest bit unsettling.

Sam’s voice snapped both of you out of your lust and anger driven trances.

“Josh?!”

“What?” Josh whipped his head away from you and towards his younger brother.

“Okay, cool your damn jets…” Sam threw his hands up and waited for Josh’s face to soften - barely. “One more go? If we get it, great. If not, we go home.” He glanced around, waiting for the nods of approval from each of them. “Clearly none of us have good spirits today.”

“Alright, yeah.” Josh switched his microphone back on and sucked in a shaky deep breath. “One more time.”

Sam took the song up on the keys for the last time, the rest of the boys falling in perfectly.

Every so often throughout the song, one of them would look around nervously. sitting right on the edge of their seat, like something was bound to go wrong at any second.

But, they made it through the song flawlessly and you weren’t sure about them, but you chalked it up to ‘third times the charm.’ And maybe a little bit of anger-driven determination.

Josh’s frustration might have also played a part in the strong vocals… but who was to say for sure.

The song came to an end and the room was electric, full of new energy and life. Almost as though no smart comments had ever been made, or sour moods were ever felt between the five of you.

“Fucking FINALLY!” Sam stood up from his bench, clapping his hands together in uncontrollable excitement.

And Jake wasn’t far behind his little brother, sharing the same enthusiasm. “That’s what the hell I needed from you, Josh. That was it!”

“I think that was the one.”

Danny sat his drum sticks down and released the breath that one might have sworn he’d held the entire song. “It was too perfect to even dare try one more time.”

“Josh?” Jake looked to his twin, awaiting a final comment of approval.

“Well, I don’t know…” Josh shrugged, sarcasm laced in his tone. “What does my little critic have to say first?” He turned to you with a fiery glare.

‘Well… his mood was sure not changing,’ you thought to yourself.

“Oh, that time was perfect.” The smile on your face hopefully only came across as smug to Josh. “I think you guys should use that recording, for sure.”

Josh snickered at how you went from sly comments, to being sickeningly sweet within the time it took them to run the last recording.

“Great! So we’re good here, yeah?” Josh rushed the question out, picking up his things from the floor beside him before any of them had even answered.

“Yeah, I think we’re-“

“Perfect! Baby, let’s go.” Josh breezed through the room, cutting Danny off as he exited.

You glanced around to the boys, huffing a laugh at their half stunned, half amused faces.

“Yeah… Good luck with him.” Sam gestured towards the door Josh just disappeared through.

“Don’t wish her luck, she pissed him off on purpose!” Jake cut in with a snicker, subtly taking his twin’s side. “What possessed you to piss him off on purpose, I don’t want to know. Regardless, you’re crazy.” He turned his attention directly towards you, smiling knowingly as he joked around.

“BABE!”

Your head snapped towards the door the second Josh’s voice boomed down the hallway.

“Best not keep your man waiting.” Danny smirked, nodding his head in the direction of the door.

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes at them. “See you guys later, I love you, ya fools.”

Their collective goodbyes and ‘I love yous’ were the last things you heard as you closed the door to the recording room.

By the time you made it back to Josh’s truck, he was already in there, buckled in and ready to speed back home.

You couldn’t help it… the smirk that started tugging at one corner of your mouth. Josh was staring daggers at you through the window of his truck, only making you feel even more accomplished.

Opening the door, it was deathly silent inside; very unlike either of you. There was no talking, no music, just the sound of the truck itself running.

You got in and buckled up, jumping in your seat a little when Josh roughly put his truck in reverse.

“Would you mind telling me what the fuck that was about back there?” Josh finally asked, speeding out of the parking lot. He hissed the words out like some angered snake.

His eyes never left the road, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see his muscles pulsating.

You decided to unwisely play innocent. “What do you mean? What was what?”

“I swear to god…” Josh slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “You have the next 10 fucking seconds to fess up, or so help me, I’ll force it out of you.”

An overly excited giggle bubbled out of you before you could even stop it and you quickly tried to cover it by clearing your throat.

Josh looked over at you with the most floored and annoyed expression you’d ever seen. “You’re seriously gonna laugh right now?!”

“Fuck! Maybe that’s what I want you to do, Joshua!”

To Josh’s ears, the desperation in your voice sounded much more like you’d developed your own little attitude.

“Do what?!” Josh practically yelled, pleading for you to give him some sort of hint, not even realizing you’d given him -what you thought- was more than enough. “What do you want me to do so fucking badly, mama??”

“Oh, I don’t know… maybe-“ You gestured around dramatically on your momentary pause for emphasis. “Put me in my goddamn place?!”

Josh froze, still as a statue in his seat. A dumbfounded expression flashed over his features so quickly, anyone other than his twin or you would have completely missed it.

Little did you know, he was putting the rest of the pieces together. His mind flashed with all the times you’d thrown him seemingly random and uncalled for attitude, or sly comments that he had always just brushed off. Weeks worth of memories piled up in his head within seconds.

Josh’s silence had started to worry you and you were silently pleading for him to say something - Which you were immediately regretful of wishing, when his eerily calm and collected voice cut through your ears.

“You’re shitting me… Right?” Josh looked over at you, and you wondered when exactly his eyes had darkened to the almost black color that they were. “i’d just like to know…” he began in genuine curiosity. “Where in your pretty little brain did you come to the conclusion that all that was a good idea? Instead of just straight up telling me that this was what you wanted?”

You were stumbling around in your mind, trying to come up with a better answer than just ‘I don’t know’ or, ‘I was scared.’ You didn’t find one.

“I mean… I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I’m just trying to understand, is all.” shrugging cooly as he pulled into your driveway, Josh put the truck in park just as aggressively as he’d put it in reverse just a few minutes before. “Because now, I have to punish you for weeks worth of shitty behavior… and I don’t think you thought that far ahead, did you, mama?”

A shiver ran up your spine, visibly shaking your whole body. “I didn’t- I didn’t think I’d get this far… no.” You admitted shakily.

Josh let out a low, barely audible hum.

“Go inside and upstairs. I want you completely naked and sitting on the edge of our bed, hands in your lap.” Josh commanded, looking over at you with a stone cold expression. “I’ll be there when I’m good and ready. I need to figure out how the fuck i’m gonna turn my little brat, back into my good girl.”

Your hand scrambled for the door handle with an embarrassing level of urgency and excitement. You all but slammed the door of Josh’s truck, sprinting to the front door and inside, as if some sort of demon was chasing you after shutting off a light.

Between the heat cursing through your body and Josh’s orders, once you made it upstairs, you were ripping your clothes off piece by piece. Even once you were completely naked, you were still blazing with need; heat pouring off your body like a wood stove on the coldest Winter night.

You sat down, placing your shaky hands in your lap and to your surprise, you heard the door open and shut just a few moments later.

Josh wasn’t going to come and tend to you in any way just yet, though. You sat there rather impatiently, listening to him shuffle around downstairs, doing God only knew what.

After a few long and agonizing minutes, you finally heard his footsteps growing louder as he made his way up the steps and down the hallway towards your bedroom.

When he appeared in the doorway, your breath hitched in your throat. He had obviously discarded his shirt somewhere downstairs, his belt was undone and hung loosely in the belt loops of his pants. The only light in the room was that of your bedside lamp and a small oil defuser, casting a beautiful, warm glow over Josh’s skin.

“Aren’t you just a sight.” Josh hummed in approval of the sight of you, bathed in the same warm glow.

“I’m surprised you actually did what I told you to, though.”

He sat the two bottles of water in his hands down on the dresser and laid his forearm across the top, leaning some of his weight into it.

“Now, before we dive into absolutely anything,” Josh started, his tone no longer dominant, but serious. “We’re gonna settle on the color system.”

“We have a safeword, Josh.” You pointed out softly.

“Yes, mama, I realize that.” Josh offered a nod of understanding. “But I don’t want to ever, EVER have to use that. So, color system.”

“Okay.” You agreed and waited for him to continue.

“Green, yellow and red. Green means you’re good and want to keep going. Yellow means slow down, maybe stop for a moment to check in, too, if it’s called for.”

You just nodded along every so often as Josh spoke, listening to him intently.

“-And red. If you say ‘red’, everything stops and we’re not going to continue on.” Josh raised an eyebrow in question. “Does this work for you, mama?”

“Yes, that’s perfect, Josh.” Your answer was just above a whisper. “Do whatever you want to me. Please.”

Josh gracefully pushed away from the dresser he had still been leaning against. “Good.”

Your eyes followed Josh as he made his way closer to you, until he was towering above you. He reached up and firmly took your chin between his thumb and index fingers.

“Look at me.” He used his grip to tilt your head back and waited for your eyes to lock with his.

“My sweet girl... Did your need to be fucked like a whore finally make you cave and become such a brat? Hmm?”

Your eyes fluttered closed, a soft whimper floating out of you. “Yes.”

“Pity.” Josh clicked his tongue, squinting his eyes at you. “I wanted to make this pretty pussy cry all over my face tonight, but now I don’t know if you deserve that.”

“You’ll cave.“ You stared up at him, giving him the same challenging look that he was giving you. “You always do.”

“You’re in for a rude awakening if you think that’s how tonight is gonna go.”

Josh growled, releasing you from his grip. “I don’t want to hear another fucking word from you for the rest of the night.”

Josh grabbed the buckle of his belt and yanked it out of the loops swiftly. “You ran your mouth more than enough at the studio earlier. Don’t speak unless I tell you to.”

Josh fiddled with the belt in his hands, taunting you with it as he leaned back over you. “Let me have your hands.”

You lifted your hands up and slipped them through the loops he had created. He took the belt and secured it around your wrists, tugging it to make sure it was tight enough for his liking, and your’s too.

He stepped back to admire you - naked and mostly helpless in front of him. It was his first time seeing you like that in a long time and he had missed it. A lot.

“Color?” Josh asked as he fought to break out of his own little trance, eyes growing even darker the longer he looked at you.

Your answer was confident, despite you shifting around in your spot under his intense stare. “Green.”

“Stand up, little dove.” Josh ordered lowly, tugging you up by the arm. His voice was far too sweet for the things he was planning in his head.

Once you were steady on your feet, Josh took your previous position on the bed and he started to guide you down across his lap.

“Tomorrow, when you come back to the studio with me…” Josh started in a low tone, smoothing his hand over the swell of your ass. “You’re gonna remember why you should keep that fucking mouth shut.”

Smack. The sound of it echoed through the room, the force of it sending you slipping off of Josh’s thighs just a little. He readjusted his arm over the middle of your back, holding you even tighter.

You choked on the gasp your lungs attempted to suck in. “Jesus fucking christ-“

Josh slapped his palm across your ass again. “And didn’t I say not to talk?”

“Fu- yes! Yes. You said to only talk when you- tell me I can.” You struggled to get the words out.

The mix of pleasure and pain was absolutely dizzying. You could feel the wetness pooling at your entrance, slick and warm every time Josh’s hand came down against your ass.

“So you heard what I said and still didn’t obey.” Josh tsked, bringing his hand down for the third time. “So damn hard headed.”

Josh’s hand soothed over your red, blazing skin for a moment, teasing around until he couldn’t help himself any longer. He slipped his fingers down to your entrance, groaning when he felt just how wet you were.

“Oh, little dove…” Josh sighed. “You’re so fucking wet. Do you just love this that much?” He was taunting you.

You nodded, lip still tucked between your teeth.

“Dirty little thing.” He caught you perfectly off guard with another blow to your opposite cheek, making you cry out loudly.

After two more, his fingers traveled back to your heat and teased around mindlessly, tormenting you.

You wanted to open your mouth and beg him, but he took your little whimpers as begging enough.

“Aw. You want my fingers, don’t you, mama?” There was that condescending tone again. “Answer me.”

“Yes sir.” You sounded and looked purely pathetic, trying to press yourself harder against his fingers.

A groan rumbled through Josh’s chest, clearly liking what you chose to call him. For a split second, he had to fight with himself to hold onto his composure and not start giving it all to you right then.

“That’s just too bad, isn’t it?” Josh circled the tip of his finger around you, but didn’t push it in even the slightest bit.

Your breathing quickened, much to Josh’s amusement. The light tracing of his finger was enough to make you scream out of pure impatience.

After a few more swirls of the tip of his finger and listening to you whine and whimper, he hauled you up off his lap as he stood, pushing you back on the bed before you even regained your footing.

“Put your hands up to the headboard.” Josh commanded, pointing to the intricately swirled metal.

Often times, you would voice your distaste for that god forsaken metal headboard. Josh was always the one insisting on keeping it, telling you over and over that he loved the way it sounded hitting against the wall when you two fucked.

Momentarily thankful you hadn’t given it up yet, you lifted your hands up to the headboard and your stomach twisted in anticipation and need. You couldn’t put your finger on a time when you had needed him quite so badly. The thought of him having his way with you, punishing you however he saw fit… it was almost heart stopping.

Josh finally joined you in the bed, straddling your hips with his legs on either side of you. The woodsy notes of his cologne hit your nose like a bone crushing punch, intoxicating you by the warmth of it - faint notes of vanilla making it smell the slightest bit sweet. His fingers hooked into the belt binding your wrists together and he undid the buckle, creating one last loop to secure it to the headboard.

With one hand supporting his wait next to your head, his other trailed slowly down the inner part of your wrist, all the way down arm, to your shoulder and then finally rested just shy of your breast.

“How’s this, hm?” Josh’s voice still held the dominant edge, but you knew he was checking in. “Use your words.”

“Do something, please.” Your hips bucked up subtly in search of any sort of friction against your pulsing clit. “I need something. Anything.”

“Anything?” Josh cocked an eyebrow, slowly shuffling back down towards the foot of the bed. He mumbled the word out one more time. “Anything.”

You watched him slip over to his dresser, yanking open the second drawer and pulling out two of his silk scarves that he sometimes would take to shows.

He let them dangle from his fingers as he made his way back to the foot of the bed, where he dropped them down and proceeded to smack at the inside of your ankle.

You knew exactly what he wanted and you exhaled loudly, sliding your foot right up next to the bedpost. He tied the scarf around you ankle and then to the post, repeating the same process with your other.

Your eyes closed as various emotions surged through you. Josh’s stare was steadily making you feel so seen, resulting in the slightest twinge of shyness to bubble up and mix in with the unbearable need and lust pumping through you.

Josh couldn’t look away, either. Stuck on how your body looked, glowing with the lightest layer of sweat. The way your chest rose and fell quickly - swearing to himself that he could see your heart pounding against your ribcage from the outside. It was at that moment that he realized how hard he was seeing you like that.

“So, here’s what’s gonna happen...” Josh finally spoke after what felt like forever, making you jolt in your spot; his voice like electricity shooting through you. “I’m giving you permission to talk now, because You’re gonna tell me exactly what you want.”

You stared at him a little confused as he climbed back up between your legs. “What?”

“I want you to tell me whatever it is that you want. Right now.” Josh repeated, a little firmer and clearer. “And make it sound pretty.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a punishment?” You scoffed, watching him as he dipped down and placed kisses along the inner part of your thigh.

He looked up at you with a wicked smile from between your legs. “Oh, but it is.” The smile was gone just as quick as it appeared. “Now what did I tell you to do?”

“Tell you what I want.” The words fluttered out through a high pitched sigh. You tugged at your legs against their restraints when Josh started getting closer to your aching core.

“Tell me.” Josh demanded, biting harshly at the conjunction of your inner thigh.

“I want your mouth on me, Josh.” You begged. “Please. I want you to make me cum and-“

Josh’s hand cracked against your outer thigh. “Who? Try again.”

“Sir.” You corrected yourself. “Need you to make me cum, sir. Please.”

Without wasting anymore time, Josh’s mouth connected with your heat, licking from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuck yes.” Whining, you pushed your hips off the bed as much as your restraints would allow.

In the back of your mind, you were still confused as to how exactly it was a punishment… Josh was giving you exactly what you wanted.

“Such a sweet little slut.” Josh groaned against you, teasing his tongue over your clit with light, little flicks. “You better tell me when you’re close.”

“Yes, sir.” Your head started spinning thanks to the degrading names he was sprinkling in. “Fuck, holy shit. You’re so good. So, so good.”

Josh’s tongue circled your clit, sucking it into his mouth to drag you closer and closer, groaning at the way he could feel it throb in his mouth every so often.

As you grew louder, he added a finger in, curling it right into that spot that had you jerking your legs in attempts to close them around his head. The two scarves served as a silky and secure reminder that you weren’t going anywhere, any time soon.

“Poor thing already wants to close her legs,” Josh said lowly, huffing a deep and airy giggle. “Does it feel too good? Huh, little dove?”

His thumb had replaced his mouth in light of wanting to talk you straight to your first orgasm.

And it was working.

“Fuck yes, it feels so good.” You whined, arching and writhing lightly against the mattress. “Keep going, please, keep going.”

“Keep going? Why?” Josh tilted his head back, watching you with a cocky expression - identical to one you had seen him sport on stage. “Are you getting close already, mama?”

Your walls clenched around him and no sooner than Josh felt the squeeze around his fingers, he was slowing down his movements drastically.

At that moment, it hit you like a ton of bricks. “No.” You shook your head frantically. “No, no, no.”

“”No”? No, what?” Josh questioned, languidly pushing his fingers in, only to pull them all the way out.

“You said-“ A whine from the sudden loss of Josh’s fingers briefly cut off your words. “You said to tell you what I want!”

“Yes, I did say that, didn’t I?” Moving over your body, Josh nudged your chin with the back of his hand.

You opened your mouth and he pushed his soaked fingers in, practically melting over the way you immediately moaned around them.

The words you’d been dreading left his mouth through still smirking lips. “I never said I’d let you cum, though… Did I?”

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth. Through an irritated and whiny huff of air, you begrudgingly answered him. “No, you didn’t.”

“Such a good girl for kind of listening to me earlier. I’ll have to reward you for that… eventually.” Your normal, bubbly, Josh peaked out for less than a split second when he giggled at his own words.

“Eventually.” Your eyes rolled back, but not in pleasure - much to your body’s internal and external pleading for relief.

“I want you to ask me for what you want again.” Pressing kisses to your sternum and down your belly, he gradually worked his way back down your body - leaving a few hickeys as he went. “You’re gonna learn how to tell me properly what it is that you want, rather than trying to get me worked up enough to treat you like the fuckin’ brat you are.”

“I need you to make me cum around your fingers.” You told him, clenching around nothing at even just the thought of it. “I want you to… to make me look at you when I cum…”

Hardly even following your own words, you dropped eye contact with him and felt a rush of warmth spread over your cheeks. That’s why you needed him to make you. Eye contact with Josh was a struggle in just casual, softer moments… This was filthy and obscene. There was no way you could bring yourself to hold his fiery gaze on your own.

“That’s it, tell me.” A kiss was pressed just above your clit, and another, then Josh’s lips finally pressed against the swollen bundle of nerves. “Say it all again.”

Josh’s tongue started teasing over you again, taunting at little areas around your clit that he knew made you toe the line of insanity.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ Gasping, your hips tried to tear away from Josh’s teasing mouth. “-Not while you’re… you’re teasing me like that.”

“Stop.” Josh growled, slinking his arm over your lower belly to hold you still. “Take it and do what I told you.”

“Yes, sir.” The two little words climbed out of you through a small cry of desperation. “Will you make me cum, please? Please, I need it so badly.”

Josh glanced up at you through hooded eyes, swiping the tip of his tongue just underneath your clit, causing a squeal to erupt from you. He loved how the littlest actions proved much more intense, when you were bound in such a helpless position.

“Yeah? Right there?” Josh babied the same spot again, watching almost the same reaction unfold. “I bet this little spot would make you cum so fast and hard, wouldn’t it?”

You were dying to free your hands and tangle them in Josh’s hair, unsure if you wanted to pull him closer or push him far, far away.

“Yeah,” you whined, high pitched and out of breath. Your brain was rapidly turning into mush, losing track of any coherent thoughts.

A soft and low “aww,” floated out of Josh, just barely audible and clearly lacking any real sympathy towards you.

His fingers slipped back down to your entrance, joining in with the pleasurable torture of his tongue. The arm he’d draped over your belly slid down lower, holding you more firmly across your hips.

The smirk that took over his lips was sinister. Hidden between your legs, you couldn’t see it - but could feel it. More than likely the cocky product of how your legs had started to shake and tug at their bindings more steadily, while he stayed attentive to that spot just at the bottom of your clit.

“Fuck!” You cried out into the thick, sex filled air of your bedroom.

The coil in your stomach started to tighten rapidly, each flick of Josh’s tongue making your body jolt and shake.

“Josh-“ His name came out strangled and broken. “Josh, i’m gonna cum, please….don’t stop!”

His fingers curled up inside you and mercilessly pressed into that spot only his fingers were long enough to reach. The patterns of his tongue slowed, only to speed up again and drag you back to the edge again. He kept your there, just under the peak of your orgasm . Every so often, he let you dangle over the edge for a few long seconds and then let you fall back down again.

“You’re fucking e-evil, Joshua,” You hissed from the deepest parts of you, quickly followed by a string of desperate pleas. “Please, please, please. Josh, please.”

You almost sobbed at the loss of his fingers and mouth, huffing out another incoherent plea as he got up from the bed. He couldn’t stand it any longer.

Just as sweaty and somewhat disheveled as you, Josh undid the button of his pants and pushed them down his legs, taking his boxers with them. He looked painfully hard and red. The quick little glisten of precum coating his tip, didn’t go unnoticed to your lust-blown eyes.

“Fuck me.” It came out in a whisper, but Josh still heard it.

“What?” His eyebrows raised, but you weren’t sure if it was from your question or his hand lazily stroking over himself.

“Fuck me.” You repeated, louder. “I want you to fuck me. Right now.”

Josh smiled brightly, as if you had spoken the most beautiful words he’d ever heard in his entire life.

“Listen to you,” Josh practically groaned. “Telling me what you want like a good girl. Finally.”

“I’ve told you what I wanted for the last fucking hour!” You pointed out sharply, bound hands clasping together in frustration.

“Mhm, you have…” Josh’s hands tugged at one of the scarves around your ankle, undoing it. “But that time I didn’t have to tell you to do it. You just did it.”

“I hate you.” You definitely didn’t and he knew that good and well.

“Hey.” His finger was pointed directly at you, accompanied by a stern look. “Don’t get fucking bratty again.”

You were aching to feel him inside you, his mouth on yours, your hands on him. Anything. “Obviously there’s a little bit left that you need to fuck out of me, but you’re just taking your sweet time.”

A humorless laugh bubbled out of him as he pulled the knot out of the other scarf. “Do we need to start this whole process over again? You don’t sound like you’ve very learned much.”

“No, sir. We don’t.” You parted your legs wider than the bedposts had allowed for, taunting Josh with you dripping core.

Like some sort of feral animal, he pounced on top of you and you knew you were in for it, when his hand clasped roughly around your throat.

“Don’t even try to tempt your way into getting what you want from me.” Josh said, low and hushed into your ear.

“Give it to me and I won’t have to.”

Josh’s grip around your throat slid up to your jaw, using just a little bit of his weight to press you firmly into the pillow. He held you there all while his other hand lined himself up with your entrance. A strangled cry of pleasure tore its way up your throat the second he slammed into you, filling you all the way up with one sharp thrust.

“Is this what you wanted?” Josh delivered another sharp thrust into you. “My cock filling you up… fucking you like the fucking brat you are?”

All you could do was nod. Your eyes were rolled back into your head, mouth gaping in a river-like flow of cut off moans.

“Will you ever learn, mama?” Josh continued on through gritted teeth. His hand tangled up into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Finally, his lips were ghosting over yours. “This beautiful mouth is gonna get you in many more worlds of trouble, I fear.”

Your lips met in a sloppy kiss, tongues and teeth clashing together in attempts to get closer than humanly possible somehow. Josh’s hands held onto each of your wrists for leverage as he relentlessly pounded into you, groaning into your when your legs hooked around his back.

Everything about him was intoxicating. His cologne was faded, but still faintly present - mixed in with his pheromones. His lips just barely tasted like alcohol; likely the remnants of a shot he’d taken while downstairs earlier.

His hands left your wrists, sliding down your body until one was rested against your side, the other stopping at your chest to play with one of your nipples.

Much to your dismay, he broke away from the frenzied kiss.

“Tell me how much you love being fucked like a sweet little slut, mama.” Josh demanded, somehow sounding sweet and dominant all at once. He was good at that.

“I love it,” you managed to squeak out, arching your body into Josh’s. “Ha- harder, please!”

“You want it harder, yeah?” Josh’s voice strained as he switched positions. His arms hooked around your thighs, pushing your legs back until you swore they touched your shoulders and picked up his pace to something likely to bruise you in a delicious way.

“Oh fuck, yes!” For a split second you forgot your hands were still bound, yanking them in attempts to claw at Josh’s shoulders. The clanking of metal on metal was your haunting reminder that you couldn’t. “Josh please, I need it-“

“Need what, mama?” His fingers, soft yet skilled, reached around to your swollen bud. He swirled his fingers around it in tight and quick circles. “Is this what you need?”

A moan erupted from your lungs, your back arching away from the bed. You forced an animalistic moan out of Josh as you squeezed tightly around him.

“No. Don’t cum until I say so.” Josh said, desperately trying to catch up with you.

That coil was burning inside you, though - threatening to snap at any given moment, completely out of your control.

“I can’t- I can’t hold it, Josh!” Your eyes burned, a stray tear or two threatening to spill over the corner. “PLEASE!”

He cooed at you, letting go of one of your legs to swipe the stray tears away. “You wanna cum that badly, mama?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, letting your head fall back as a few more tears fell.

“Come on, then.” Josh finally caved. “Give it to me, nice and sweet right on my cock, mama.”

His fingers pressed more firmly against your clit, sending you flying over the edge and into the raging waters of your orgasm.

He tumbled into his own peak just seconds after you, his curses and groans mixing with yours in a lustful harmony of sounds.

Muscles all over your body tensed and released rapidly, arms and legs trembling weakly. Your high sucked every last bit of energy you had left.

Eventually, you started to come down. Josh was barely holding himself up above you, but forced himself to stay up until you were back to some form of coherency.

“Are you still with me, baby?” Josh’s voice cut through your ears, accompanied by the comforting sound of his giggle.

A tired smile took over your lips as you draped out. “Kinda…”

Josh immediately worked at undoing the belt around your wrists, taking them in his hands once they were free to massage over them gently.

“How does a bath sound, baby? Or some water?” Josh asked sweetly.

He would always be your sweet, caring man. You knew that for sure.

“Water, please, baby.” You stretched out, face twisting from your sore muscles. “I wanna lay here for a bit.”

“Did a little number on you, yeah?” Josh snickered, grabbing the water off the top of the dresser.

“Hush.” You rolled your eyes at him and took the water, snatching it playfully.

He flashed the quickest little wink in your direction, slipping towards the bathroom. “I hope that’s what I just taught you how to do.”

@shutupdevvie

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brookerambles · 1 year

Text

emerald green || danny wagner x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: Danny makes you a deal. You let him have his way with you, and he'll move your stupid green couch anywhere you want.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Reader | Genre: smut, very nearly porn without plot; minors begone! , fluff bc i’m incapable of writing something that isn’t at least a little bit sweet | Word Count: 3k (whoops) | Warnings: smut (piv, fingering, thigh riding, unprotected sex, edging, dom!danny, dirty talk, rough sex, filth <;3)

A/N: Here's that tasty lil fic I promised you ;) I got a little carried away being feral for Danny, forgive me. I hope you enjoy! ♡

You stood in your living room with your hands on your hips, sizing up the couch that you’d decided was your one true mortal enemy in this life.

You loved it, of course — it was the emerald green couch of your dreams, and it fit perfectly in the cosy, maximalist home you’d made with your boyfriend. But it was a bitch to move, and it had taken Danny lifting it on one side and all three Kiszkas lifting it on the other to bring it in the day you’d gotten it. There was no way you could move it on your own unless you wanted to use all your energy just to push it a few centimeters across the floor.

You gave a short huff of impatience as you surveyed the living room, knowing you’d end up doing just that in order to move the couch where you wanted it. Something in the hot, sunny afternoon air was making you restless, and rearranging your living room seemed as good an outlet as any.

You’d been thinking about changing things up for a few days now, and though Danny had offered to help if you made a concrete decision on what you wanted, you hadn’t had any luck lining up your free time with his time away from the studio so far. He’d also warned you not to try to move the couch on your own, worried you’d hurt yourself, but you’d be careful. He’d be pleased with how you moved things around without having to bother him, and he'd never say another word about it.

With an air of confidence, you marched up to the couch and tried to push against the arm.

Nothing.

You pushed again, harder, and felt it give a little. Encouraged, you put your weight into the next shove and leaned your shoulder against the couch to move it a fraction of an inch.

“What are you doing?”

You almost fell, startled out of your forceful shoving that was really amounting to nothing. Danny stood behind you in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, frowning like he’d caught you with your hand in the cookie jar.

“Hi honey!” you said quickly, your voice squeaking a little. You cleared your throat. “You’re done with work already?”

“We decided to take a break,” he said, and you could tell it had been fractious at the studio. Danny usually came back from work with a smile on his face, but you wouldn’t have been surprised to hear they’d been arguing all day.

“We’re going back later tonight to do some more mixing,” he continued. “If I don’t have to take you to the hospital, that is.”

“Oh please. I’m fine.” It was too hot to argue, and you were too busy dealing with your stubborn couch to worry about your stubborn boyfriend.

You moved to start pushing the couch again, but Danny crossed the room in a few strides and grabbed your wrist.

“I told you to wait for me,” he said, irritated. “And I wasn’t just saying that for fun — you’re gonna get hurt trying to do it yourself.”

“I am not,” you protested. You tried to ignore the way your skin sparked under his touch, determined not to be distracted from your couch-moving. “Where’s your feminism, Daniel?”

He gave you a dry look. “Feminist or not, a little thing like you isn't gonna move that couch more than a few inches.” He looked around the living room. “Did you decide where you wanted it?”

“Not... exactly,” you admitted. “I wanted to try it in different places and see what I liked best.”

He sighed. “And you picked the hottest day of the year to try seventy different living room arrangements?” He ran a hand over his face. “Of course you did.”

You glowered up at him. “I’m not forcing you to do anything, Danny. You’re the one who butted in and made me stop.”

“Because I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” he snapped. “I don’t understand why you’re upset with me about that.”

You tugged your hand out of his grip, turning to face him fully. “Yeah, well, I don’t understand why you came home in a bad mood and decided to take it out on me.”

“I — ” He cut himself off, at a loss for words for a moment; you wondered what his problem was until you saw where his gaze had riveted to.

You gave an incredulous laugh. “Danny! You stopped arguing with me because you got distracted by my boobs?”

He blushed vividly. “What?” His gaze snapped up to your face. “No!”

He recovered and pointed a stern finger at you.

“No,” he repeated, “but now that you’ve mentioned it, I don't know why you had to wear something so... slinky to move furniture.”

“Slinky?” you repeated, indignant and somehow amused. You’d picked the yellow sundress because of the heat, not for any other reason. “It’s a dress, Daniel! You've seen me wear it a hundred times!”

He muttered something under his breath, disgruntled, and you smirked.

“What was that?”

He scowled. “You know I like that dress. Did you wear it on purpose, just to get me to go along with your harebrained little scheme?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, I purposefully put on a slinky little sundress to seduce you into moving the furniture around. Especially since I had no idea you’d be home while I was doing it.”

He didn't say anything, and you decided to get back to work. You leaned into the arm of the couch again, trying to push it to where you wanted it, and the strap of your dress slipped off your shoulder.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Danny said, sounding irritated and unmistakably turned on. He nudged you out of the way and lifted the end of the couch.

“Where do you want it?”

You pointed to the window. “Over there.”

He didn't so much as break a sweat moving the couch to where you’d shown him, and you couldn’t help but ogle the way his biceps looked in his grey muscle tee.

You heard his hum of satisfaction when he let go of the couch. “Now who’s distracted?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but his smirk was so disarming you couldn't think of anything to say. It irritated you that he’d derailed you from your project so quickly, and you squeezed between him and the arm of the couch to move it a little more.

He gave a choked little groan. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure it’s centered.”

You pushed the couch a little to the right. He swore under his breath and put his hands on your waist to keep you still.

“This isn’t cute,” he said, breathless.

“I’m not trying to be cute,” you said with a huff. Tendrils of hair slipped out of your ponytail as you tried to move the couch a little more. “I’m trying to — oof — rearrange the furniture.”

“I’ll make you a deal.”

“Oh yeah?” You grunted with effort, succeeding more in pressing back against Danny than moving the couch anywhere. “What kind of deal would that be?”

He dug his fingers into your hips. “You let me fuck you, and I’ll move this stupid couch anywhere you want.”

You propped your chin on your fist as you leaned on the arm of the couch, considering that offer. “What if I’m not happy with it and I want you to move it again?”

He groaned and leaned over your back, nipping at your bare shoulder like the first taste of a starving man.

“I’ll move this couch to the fuckin’ moon, honey, I don’t care. Just let me fuck you.”

You smirked. “Deal.”

He didn’t waste any time getting into it, and you had to admit you didn’t mind the idea of upholding your end of the bargain as he nudged your legs apart with his thigh.

“Keep those pretty legs spread, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and heady like it was when he wanted you to obey. You breathed a little whine and did as he said.

He snaked a hand between your legs and ran his fingers over your panties. They weren’t anything fancy, just your regular plain cotton, but under Danny’s skilled fingers they might as well have been the flimsiest lingerie. You felt your heartbeat set an erratic pace as he worked his fingers over your heat, drawing you into a needy, desperate state.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathed, squeezing his wrist between your thighs when he pushed your panties aside and eased two fingers inside you.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he scolded. “Spread ‘em.”

You couldn’t help a breathy moan at the tone of his voice. Danny wasn’t in any mood to argue with you, and you found yourself very eager to please.

He fucked you with his fingers until your legs were shaking, until the velvet of the troublesome couch was crumpled under your grip. He splayed his free hand over your shoulder, pushing your other strap off, running his thumb under the ruched back of your dress.

“I love the feel of your skin when it’s all warm with sunshine like this,” he said, surprisingly tender for how punishing his pace was between your legs. He pressed a kiss to the place between your shoulder blades.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.”

His fingers brushed over the spot that made you see stars. “Danny,” you gasped.

He chuckled. “You’re especially beautiful when you say my name like that,” he said. “Say it again, baby girl.”

You gripped the arm of the couch so hard your knuckles turned white. “Fuck, Danny, please —” You whimpered at the wave of pleasure that swelled. “Please, I’m so close.”

“Oh, pretty girl,” he crooned. “You want to cum, don’t you?”

You nodded. “Yes,” you panted. “Please make me cum.”

He nipped at your skin again. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He worked his fingers all over your heat, making a mess of you and his hand as he brought you over the edge. You rode his fingers until you were fucked out, your head leaned back, moaning his name between greedy breaths.

“God damn,” he said, his voice husky. “You sound like a fuckin’ whore, baby. You want the neighbors to hear you gettin’ fucked real good, huh?”

You couldn’t think of anything to say in response, dizzyingly turned on by the way he was talking to you. Danny was usually so sweet and gentle, and you loved it, but the rare times when he acted like this nearly made you lose your mind.

“Turn around and let me see you,” he said. You did, leaning back against the arm of the couch; he kissed you until your head spun before he started to trail kisses down your jaw, your neck, down to the swell of your breasts.

“Did I tell you I loved this dress?” he asked.

You gave a gasping little moan when he licked a stripe between your breasts. “You might have mentioned it.”

You could feel his smirk as he kissed your skin, and you loved the sound of his groan when he pulled the sweetheart neckline of your dress down enough to expose your nipples. He swirled his tongue over each of them in turn, his hands wandering over your hips under your skirt.

“Danny,” you said, too desperate to be embarrassed about how needy your voice sounded. “You promised to fuck me.”

“Be a good girl and be patient,” he chided. He pulled away just enough to admire the hickey he’d left on your neck, rubbing the pad of his thumb over it. “You’ll be a good girl, won’t you?”

“Yes,” you said, your resolve quickly wavering when he pressed his thigh between your legs. You rubbed yourself against his big, muscled thigh and gave panting breaths as you started to chase another high, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He did, of course, and he pulled away from you completely and left you wanting.

“What did I just say?” he demanded.

“Be patient,” you said pitifully, painfully aware of the needy ache between your legs. You reached for him. “But, Danny — ”

“But nothing,” he said firmly. “Bad girls don’t get what they want, you know that.”

“What can I do?” you asked. You closed the distance he’d put between you and felt euphoric when he let you skate your hands over his strong biceps. “I’ll be a good girl for you, Danny. Anything you want.”

He took your chin in a gentle, unwavering grip. “Anything, huh?”

You nodded. “Yes, Danny.” Anything to touch him again, to have him close to you.

He gave you a wicked smile. “Fine.”

He let you go and went to sit on the couch, his legs spread. You almost licked your lips in anticipation; did he think this was some sort of punishment? You’d gladly misbehave if it meant you got to suck him off.

He looked beautiful against the emerald green velvet, his curls dark and mussed, his tan skin warm and glowing in the sunlight streaming through the windows. Before you could kneel in front of him, though, he patted his thigh.

“Have a seat,” he said.

You blinked. “What?”

He smiled. “You thought you were gonna get a taste, huh?” He tutted. “Oh, baby. You’ll get my cock when I decide you deserve it. Take your panties off and have a seat.”

You swallowed and did as he said, knowing that tone and loving the thrill it sent racing through you. You couldn’t help a choked sigh when you straddled his thigh, the fabric of his black jeans chafing deliciously against your bare skin.

“You wanted to sneak around and ride my thigh, didn’t you?” he asked, cupping your breasts in his big hands, running his thumbs over your nipples. “Well, no need to sneak around, sweetheart. I’m gonna give you what you want.”

“Can — ” Your voice was shaky. “Can I?”

“Sure, baby,” he said sweetly. You didn’t register that it seemed too good to be true that this was your punishment for not obeying, so desperate were you to relieve the pressure between your legs. You rode his thigh and gripped his shoulder for support, moaning and panting, your breasts swinging with the movement of your body. Danny watched with an almost lazy smirk, enjoying the show.

Your voice pitched up when you got close, and before you could register it, Danny had picked you up by the waist and made you stand. You gave a pathetic whine at the loss of contact, robbed of your orgasm just when you’d been on the cusp of it.

“Danny!” you protested. He stood and went back to the arm of the couch, making to pick it up. “What are you doing?”

He looked at you with an innocent expression.

“Moving the couch,” he said. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

You stamped your foot, fed up with his teasing and too desperate to cum that you couldn’t bring yourself to care how silly it was.

“Screw the couch!” you said. “I want you to fuck me, Danny!”

A slow grin curved his mouth. “Oh, there it is.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you close, pressing you back against the arm of the couch and lifting you to sit on it. He kissed you deeply and let his hands wander.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” he said, breathless. “I always keep my promises, and I love hearing you beg.”

He made quick work of his belt and zipper, the sound of it enough to give you butterflies. He gave himself a few slow strokes as he stood between your thighs, pressing the head of his cock against your heat just enough to tease.

“Fuck me,” he breathed.

“No, fuck me,” you protested.

His breathy laugh was warm against your skin. “If you insist.”

He buried himself to the hilt in one deep stroke, drawing a gasp out of both of you when you were joined. You lifted your legs higher on his hips and took him deeper, making him swear under his breath.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he said, vulnerability creeping into his voice for the first time since he’d gotten home. “Just — fuck, just warning you.”

“I don’t care,” you breathed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. “I love you so much.”

“God, I love you too.”

He drove into you with deep, steady strokes, playing with your clit until you were a shaking mess. You held tight to him and leaned your head back, loving the drag of his cock inside you.

“Danny, baby,” you said in a whine. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum with me, pretty girl,” he said. “Let go, baby.”

He pressed deeply against your clit as he pushed into you, and you unraveled before you could draw another breath. He groaned when you tightened around him, cumming deep inside you after one, two, three more strokes.

Both of you were breathless when you came down, sticky with sweat and pressed as close as you could get to each other. You kissed all over his face and told him how good he was to you, brushing his damp, sweaty curls back from his face.

“Thank you,” he said softly, hugging you close to him. “I needed that so bad, sweetheart. You were incredible. Thank you. I love you.”

You smiled and kissed him slowly, tenderly. Though you loved it when he was rough with you, you always enjoyed getting your big teddy bear boyfriend back at the end.

“My pleasure, honey,” you said. “I love you too.”

“I know we had a deal,” he said after a moment, “and you kept your end of the bargain like a champ, but...”

He looked at you with those pretty hazel eyes you were powerless to resist.

“Can we take a nap before I start moving your couch all over creation?”

You laughed. “Yes, we can. But let’s take a shower first.”

He picked you up and carried you to the bathroom, ignoring your giggled protests to put you down. He liked it when you settled down and cradled his face in your hands, kissing the bridge of his beautiful Roman nose.

“You sure are a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” he asked with a smile.

You grinned. “Imagine how sweet I’ll be when you move my couch for me.”

He laughed and gave you a kiss. “Like I said, I always keep my promises.”

danny taglist: @tearsofbri @busybeingtrash @myway-late @gotavansleep

fic taglist: @canyonmoonkiszka @allieisacrybaby @starshine-wagner

gvf taglist: @gvfrry @ohhey1293 @the-chaotic-cow @mountain-in-springtime @xserenax-13 @stardustjtk @brooke-gvf @weightofdreams-gvf @jakeydoesit @gretasmokerising @hayley1623 @doodle417 @finestoflines @brokenbellz @bowievanfleet @s0livagant @strugglingtodoshit @s-u-t @kay-jordan @gretavanfleas @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavansteph @gretavanbitches @myownparadise96 @luverleaver @weightofdreamz @greatervanfleet @maedesculpaeusoubi @jakekiszkasbestie @pineapple-photographer @baguettejuliette @alexxavicry @levi-wants-ur-bones @carlybubs @cowboysamkiszka @dannyandthekiszkas @jordierama

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brookerambles · 1 year

Text

shears | jtk

a/n: i was very inspired by cob's haircut and had to put it down in words. this is the result. also this is my first fic! warnings: none! just a lot of fluff. mention of scissors maybe? word count: 3.7k

You weren’t exactly thrilled that your first job out of cosmetology school was at Great Clips. You hoped to score a job at a fancier salon as you had shelled out a pretty penny for a more prestigious beauty school, but it was, at the moment, your job.

You didn't even like men’s styles. You thought the endless slew of clipper cuts and fades were repetitive, and you longed to get your hands on a head full of long, luscious hair. Sadly, most women already had a stylist that they trusted and had a bond with, so you were stuck with every Joe Schmoe in Nashville who didn’t care to run a dab of pomade through his comb-over every once in a while.

Sometimes your customers were even rude. Many pompous businessmen who never looked up from their phones had sat in your chair. You had cut the hair of just as many older men who made crude comments about your figure or told you to smile while you tried to fix up their rapidly thinning crew cuts. Neither of these groups tipped very well.

Truthfully, you loathed Great Clips, but the job kept you afloat while you built a resumé.

You found that you had much to complain about while idle at the front counter, waiting for a walk-in when the doorbell pulled you from your daydream of a real salon.

The bright chime of the bell echoes through the empty lobby, alerting you to someone's presence. Your eyes rip away from the spot on the wall you had been absentmindedly staring at while your mind wandered, falling to the man stepping through the doorway.

He was gorgeous, you thought. He wore a wide-brimmed black hat and a stylish pair of sunglasses. Between the two accessories, you weren't sure what he actually looked like, but you just knew he was pretty. He wore a pair of off-white linen pants paired with a black linen button-down that looked to have been cropped to his hips. The shirt was mildly wrinkled but barely buttoned, which gave you an ample view of his smooth, tan chest adorned with a couple of silver pendants.

You were enamored with his jewelry and open shirt before you realized the most important part of his appearance.

His hair.

He had wavy chestnut hair that spilled over his shoulders and fell past the collar of his shirt. You hadn't had hair that long walk through the doors in months, maybe ever.

You were pulled out of your silent admiration by the sight of him walking towards the counter, towards you. You quickly shut your mouth, as your jaw was beginning to hang open at his beauty, and flash him the brightest smile you could muster.

"Hi, welcome to Great Clips! Do you have an appointment?" you chirp, silently thanking whatever power was above that your voice didn't crack. You bit your lip in anticipation of his answer. You were next up to take a walk-in, but there were stylists in the back who had appointments with regular customers. You hoped he was not one of them.

Even his voice was gorgeous, "No, just looking for a walk-in if you have time," he replies. He had a perfectly deep, but kind rasp to his voice. You felt your cheeks redden at the sound.

"Sure! Follow me, please." This time, you aren't so lucky, as your voice breaks and your face flushes deeply. You quickly turn and motion for him to follow you to the chairs, attempting to hide your undoubtedly scarlet face. You could have sworn he chuckled under his breath at your shyness.

Once you arrive at your station, you gesture for him as you take your spot behind the chair. You start to introduce yourself, "My name is y/n and I'll be cutting your hair today." You pause, expecting him to remove his hat and sunglasses.

Instead, he rasps, "Hi y/n, I'm Jake." He smiles a gentle, toothy grin at you that you can't help but return. He still does not move to take off his hat or glasses yet, so you pause again, moving to lightly graze your fingers along the brim of his hat.

"Can I take these off?" you ask.

Jake's eyebrows raise in realization, "Oh! Of course." He reaches up to lift his hat off his head and place it in his lap, which you had been avoiding looking at. Then, he removes his sunglasses, folding them and sliding them into the top of where his shirt was buttoned, no higher than the bottom of his sternum. He looks back up expectantly, finally making real eye contact with you for the first time since he arrived. Tragically, your face flushes again, but he seems to blush as well.

"There we go," you whisper. Then, in a louder voice, you say, "It's nice to meet you, Jake. What are we doing with your hair today?" You move to run your fingers through your hair to feel the texture and judge the care that it might need.

"Well," he starts, "My little brother says the ends of my hair look ratty and that I need a haircut. So, here I am." He grins. As you comb your fingers through his hair, you understand what his brother meant. His hair is soft until you get two inches from the ends, where it feels rougher and dryer than the rest. He continues, "Take off whatever needs to come off."

Your mind automatically ponders the dirty implications of his directive, but you furrow your brow to push that thought away, "When did you last have your hair cut?"

Jake squints in thought, then shrugs, "Eight months? Maybe a year? I'm really not sure. I've been so busy with work lately, I just haven't had time to think about a haircut."

You hum and nod at his answer, "What do you do that has you so busy?"

His face splits into a wide smile and his eyes shimmer at your question, "My brothers and I are in a band. We've been on tour and finishing up our next album," he replies, still wildly grinning. You smile back and your heart flutters at the passion for music he exudes.

"Very cool, anything I might have heard?"

He shrugs nonchalantly, but with a tiny smirk that you almost miss, "Maybe," he starts, but he turns his focus back to his hair, "what's the damage?"

You pull the pieces of his hair that lay in front of his shoulders between your index and middle fingers and let the hair feed through until you reach where you think his locks need a chop. About two inches of hair needed to be cut off to keep it healthy. You reply, "About this much."

His eyes widen in shock at how much you indicate. He swallows, then asks, "Are you sure?" Jake's voice is almost timid, and your heart aches.

You nod solemnly, "Sadly, yeah. You have a good bit of split ends here and the only way to get rid of them is to cut them off." He nods back in understanding.

"I get it. It just seems really short. My hair hasn't been that short in a while."

You can tell Jake is a little nervous about the necessary length, so you lean over so that your head hovers right next to his, just above his shoulder. You look deeply into his eyes in the mirror and smile, "Yeah, but I promise you'll still look amazing," you reassure him.

This time it's his turn to flush a deep crimson, which he couples with a shy smile, "Whatever you say."

"Perfect," you reply as you stand up. You pat his shoulder and he follows you to the shampoo bowl. You grab a towel and lay it over the divot where his head is to rest. He sits down and leans back, his hair falling into the bowl. Usually, your customers focus on a spot on the ceiling, but he looks directly into your eyes. His gaze is piercing but soft, his smooth chocolate eyes dulling the sharpness of his glare. The pesky flush of your cheeks rises again, so you quickly avert your gaze in search of the shampoo and conditioner. You could feel his eyes tracking your movements.

You turned the water on, waiting longer than usual to make sure that the water was warm enough. You wanted it to be perfect for him. You ran the shower head over his hair, soaking it in the warm water and turning the faucet off when it was saturated. After pumping shampoo into your hand and lathering it between your fingers, you started to work the solution through his hair. His eyes, once trained on you, flutter shut with a sigh at the feeling of your hands massaging his scalp. His cheeks were rosy and you swear you saw a content smile play across his lips.

With his head stretched back, the smooth column of his neck was on display, leading your eyes down to his necklaces, which glinted in the overhead light. Your eyes moved to the smooth expanse of his chest, and you almost wished you could run your hands down the warm, tanned skin. At that moment, you realize you had been massaging the shampoo into his hair for too long, distracted by the man in your chair. You rush to grab the showerhead and turn it back on. You gently rinse the suds from his hair, holding your hand between the water and his forehead, protecting his face. Once his hair is clean, you grab a couple of pumps of conditioner and work it through his ends. As you run his wet hair through your fingers, you can tell that his hair really is gorgeous. It just needs some care.

After rinsing the conditioner from his hair, you gently squeeze out the excess moisture. His eyes open at this, sensing that you're done washing his hair. His eyes find yours again and he gazes up at you. You try to cut the tension with a joke, "Good morning, sleeping beauty," you say softly while a wry smile creeps across your face.

Jake flushes at your bold joke, "Oh hush," he replies. His words don't hold any malice. He continues, still making eye contact with you, "It felt nice." His face pulls into a shy smirk.

You have him sit up, and when he does, you grab the corners of the towel by his face and fold his hair up into the towel on top of his head. You lead him back to your salon chair and he sits down. After you grab a cape from the hooks on the wall, you drape it over him. The movement of the cape wafts the sweet smell of the conditioner towards you, but you can smell something else, a scent that is uniquely Jake.

After you snap the cape around his neck, you remove the towel from his head. You match his gaze in the mirror. He flashes a grin at you, again, and says, "Cut away, Doc." You nod in return.

You turn to grab a comb and a pair of shears and get to work. As you work through his hair, you strike up a conversation. "What kind of music do you and your brothers play?"

"Rock 'n roll mostly. Maybe a little bit of blues. Whatever we want, really," he replies. You can't see his face from your position behind him, but you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Ooh, rock 'n roll? Are you a rockstar, Jake?" you tease. You move to cut the hair on the side of his head.

"Maybe a little bit," he chuckles. He tries to turn his head towards you to punctuate his reply.

"Hey, keep your head straight." You stop his head with the back of your hand. He raises his eyebrows and flushes with embarrassment as he snaps back to face the mirror.

"Sorry," he replies. He averts his gaze in the mirror.

You smile reassuringly, "No worries," you say. He settles again, "What instrument do you play?"

This question truly makes him light up, "I play the guitar." He beams at you in the mirror and continues, "I started when I was pretty little, and it's taken me a lot of cool places." His grin shows off his shiny, white teeth.

"Any Grammys yet?" you jest. You assumed he was a small artist waiting for his big break.

He looks down at his lap and chuckles, "Just the one."

Your head snaps up to look at him in the mirror, "Really?"

He lets a small smile play across his face, "Yeah it was kind of a miracle, actually." You stand up as your mouth hangs open. Then, you begin to laugh, full and from your belly. He flushes again, "What's so funny?"

It takes a second for you to stop laughing and collect yourself to answer him, "You've won a Grammy and you're getting your hair cut at a Great Clips!" The thought, once said out loud, sends you back into a laughing fit. His own bright and genuine laughter joins yours.

When the laughter dies down, he turns his head towards you and you let it slide this time. He looks up at you and says, with a smirk, "Yeah, but you're cutting my hair here, aren't you?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You blush furiously, but roll your eyes and turn his head back to the front with a hand on top of his head, "Oh, stop it," you mumble. His self-satisfied smirk remains as you finish cutting his hair.

Once pleased with your work, you set down the comb and shears. You reach for a bottle of light mousse and pump a small amount into your hand. Jake looks at the product in your hand, then up into your eyes, and asks, "What's that?"

You rub the mousse between your hands and start to rake it through his hair. "It's a mousse. It'll make your hair voluminous and give your waves some definition," you reply.

"Oh," he whispers and nods as you finish with the product. You grab the hairdryer and run it over his head for a few minutes, spinning the chair as you evenly dry his hair.

Once you've finished, you run your fingers through his locks one last time, breaking the cast and giving his hair the tousled look he came in with. You suspect he likes that look.

You finally spin Jake back around to see the final look in the mirror. The corners of his mouth and his eyebrows rise in unison. He turns his head from side to side, examining his new style. He brings his hands up to his scalp to tousle his hair from the roots. The wide, sparkling grin you were newly familiar with grows even stronger across his sharp features.

"It looks amazing. You were right about the length," he says. The gratitude is evident in his voice, and you match his grin.

You watch him admire his haircut in the mirror for just a little longer before he meets your gaze and sighs with contention. After standing there for just one more moment, you pat the back of the chair and say, "Alright, let's go get you checked out, Jake." He stands and follows you as you lead him back to the lobby. You notice that he puts his sunglasses back on his head, but continues to hold his hat in his hands.

You resume your spot behind the counter and give him the spiel on the cost and other services provided at Great Clips. When it's time to pay, he slides a shiny card toward you. Upon picking it up, you find the card is heavy for such a small item. Your eyes widen at the weight of it in your hand and he chuckles. You look up at the sound, and he shrugs, "Rockstar money, I guess."

You laugh at his jokes one last time before you swipe the card and hand him the receipt with a pen to sign. He scribbles something on the receipt and hands it back to you. Your fingers brush as you take the paper from his hands and a shiver runs down your spine. You smile as he pats the counter, rings clacking against the hard surface. He puts his hands in his pockets and goes to leave, but before he opens the door, he turns around to say, "Thank you, y/n, it really does look great." A kind grin accompanies his expression of gratitude.

You match his grin with a sugary sweet smile, "No problem, rockstar. Good luck with the new album." He waves and continues walking backward toward the door. It comes up quicker than he was expecting, and he turns around with surprise and embarrassment when he runs into the door. He waves goodbye before he's out the door and never to be seen again. You watch his profile walk down the street through the window, illuminated by the warm afternoon sun.

You looked down at the receipt, hoping to find a sweet message or even a phone number, but you were met with a tip that far outweighed your service. Your heart flipped at the bittersweet gesture until another customer strolled through the door.

❁❁❁

After closing out your last customer for the day and sending him out into the night, you began to sweep up. All the other stylists had gone home, so it was just you closing up the shop. Technically, you didn't close for another five minutes, but nobody was coming in, so you figured you would get a head start on cleaning up.

You had just begun sweeping up the loose clippings left over from the day when the doorbell chimed again. Your heart sank at the sound. You hoped to get home early, but it seems your dreams were shattered by the high-pitched chime. You turned to see who had ruined your plans, but you froze mid-spin. The sight of Jake leaning on the counter shocked you. His elbows rested on the counter with his arms crossed while his fingers absentmindedly tapped at his bicep and his eyes darted around the lobby nervously. His sunglasses were perched on top of his head.

"Back again, rockstar? Wanna go shorter?" you tease as you saunter back to the counter. You stand across from him, arms spread and hands grabbing the edge of the counter. You pop your hip out to the side and wait for his response with a smirk on your face.

He laughs at your question, "No, this is perfect actually." He moves to run his fingers through his hair.

"Well, what can I do for you? We close in," you check your watch, "two minutes."

"I have a question for you, actually."

"Sure! Is it about the mousse? I can sell you a bottle, or I can let you take a picture of the label. If you don't like it, I can recommend you something else, too!" You start to ramble a little bit, flustered at the proximity.

"No," he pauses, "well, actually I'd love to take a picture of the label, but that's not why I'm back."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. You don't want to get your hopes up, but you like the direction this conversation is going. You reply, "What is it?"

He takes in a shaky breath, "Well, uh, I really enjoyed my haircut."

You smile at his accidental display of nerves, "I'm glad you did. Is that all you wanted to tell me?"

"No. I, um, well, I really enjoyed your company, and, uh," he pauses to search your eyes, biting his lip, "I wanted to know, well I wanted to ask if, maybe, um." He stutters and trails off.

You try to help him out, "Wanted to know what?"

He stands up and sucks in a deep breath, "Are you free on Friday night?"

His question, though it was the one you had hoped to hear, hits you like a freight train. Your eyes widen and a giddy smile slowly creeps across your face.

Jake is seemingly impatient, pushing for an answer, "Well?"

You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding as you reply, "Yes, I am."

He doesn't celebrate yet, but asks, "Can I take you out to dinner, then?"

Your smile stretches even further across your face, "Yeah, I would love that."

The biggest smile you had seen from him that day erupts onto his face. You stand there grinning at each other for a second until he breaks out of the trance, "Great, it's a date," he exhales, "could I maybe get your number before I go?"

You nod, "Of course." He hands you his phone, already open to a new contact. You type in your number and your name, making sure to add a ":)" at the end. While you type, you can see him bounce on his toes with anticipation, and it makes you smile. You hand the phone back to him and he smiles down at the contact. You watch him for a moment before you lean across the counter and give him a quick kiss on the cheek, against your better judgment, "See you Friday, Jake."

He quickly looks up, having flushed scarlet yet again. He smiles and whispers, "Yeah, see you Friday." He turns to leave, clutching his phone to his chest and still gazing at you. He runs into the door again, distracted by you, but finally makes it outside. You watch as he exits and holds his phone up to his ear, smiling as he speaks to whoever is on the other line.

❁❁❁

Your phone buzzes in your pocket as you shut the door to your apartment. You drop your keys into the bowl by your door and scramble to fish your phone from your jacket. Only one notification is displayed on your lock screen.

unknown number: hey gorgeous :)

You immediately save his number and giggle to yourself. You lean back against your door as you type out a response.

you: hey rockstar :)

❁❁❁

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