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ignite-my-fire · 3 days
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writingcold · 2 days
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Hello!  Welcome to Chapter 5 of CD&FE.  
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Pairing: Jake X Female Reader 
Summary: This is an AU that starts with the release of GVF’s first EP, Black Smoke Rising, and follows along life paths over the course of twenty plus years.  More life happening without each other.     
Content warnings: Language, smoking, drinking, adulting? Mentions of sexual situations, no smut in this chapter either.
Word Count: approx. 5.1K 
@edgingthedarkness and @takenbythemadness thank you ladies.  For all of it and everything.  💚
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CD&FE, Part 5.1: Her POV
     The metro area of the Twin Cities is home to many beautiful parks and green spaces that meander along the Mississippi River.  I had found myself unpacking boxes in my new kitchen overlooking the river along a stretch in the historic district.  The loft apartment had come open and had caught Frankie’s eye immediately.  It was close to his university and it was close to my office.  Somehow it made sense to move in since we had invaded each other’s spaces so much that it made no sense to keep up with two places.
      “You doing okay up there?”  I yelled out as I was setting up stemware to hang in the cabinet of the whet bar.
      There was no answer.  I turned down the volume on my phone and asked again with a little more volume.  Still, Frank gave no answer.  Finishing up the wine glasses, I set the empty box on the stack to break down before walking through the long living room and up the spiral staircase.  I found him standing at the window, eyes frozen on the river.  I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind and stepped close.
      “You okay?”  I asked, pressing my cheek to the back of his shoulder.
      He placed one of his large hands across my wrist and gave a little squeeze.  “Just daydreaming.”
      “Oh yeah?”  I sighed as I melted a bit against him.
      “I know marriage is off the table,”  he said, tone full of warmth, “but what about something else.  Something for just the two of us.”
      “Well, we have this home.  We have us-”
      “Y/n.  I’m talking about a commitment to us.  Something formal.”
      I breathed in deeply.  I loved him.  Our relationship was steady and filled so much of me.  But marriage scared the fuck out of me.  It was not something that I wished for - not even as a little girl.  All the friends would pretend to be beautiful brides with elaborate ceremonies and giggling fits over what happened that night.  Hell, even Patrick would volunteer to be the groom and wear his ugly tux t-shirt and pretend to kiss the girls.  Ick.  I just never needed any of that.  Even when my friends started to get married, it just did nothing for me.  
      “After buying this place,  do you doubt my commitment?”  I asked drifting away from him and feigning interest in the closet.
      “No.  Not at all.  Even if we didn’t buy this place, I would not doubt it,”  he answered, scratching at the beard on his cheek.  “It wouldn’t change anything - not between us if you didn’t want to, but I just have this desire.  Something that is meaningful for us.”
      I frowned at the notion.  I know, I know.  Selfish, but I just didn’t understand the sudden shift.  The night previous, we were fucking in every niche and corner of the apartment to make it all our own.  Puffing out my cheeks I decided that it wouldn’t harm anything to perhaps continue the conversation.
      “What kind of thing are you talking about?”  I asked, sitting down on the corner of the bed.
      “There’s so many different ways to show commitment, love,”  he said, finally turning from the window to look at me.  “Handfasting would be lovely.”
      “Does it mean that we dress up and stand in front of all of our friends, and it costs a ridiculous amount of money to sign a paper?”
      “Boy, someone is jaded,”  he teased.  
      I instantly threw up my defenses.  “Come on, I don’t-”
      “I’m teasing.”  He caught me by my hands and tugged me closer, though I tried to fight a bit.  “It could be as simple as just us - no one else has to be involved.  We just write our words out that we mean to say to the other.  If you want to dress up fancy, you can.  Hell, I’d be more than happy to have you there in those gross sweats and flops.”
      At the sound of his laugh, I relaxed.  I knew he was looking for a more outward show of commitment.  I parted from him with a ‘I’ll think about it’, and it wasn’t lost on me that it was a rather romantic notion.  I spent the better part of an hour trying to unpack books and albums and pieces of memories that would look good on display.  My hands paused on the Deep Purple Gatefold.  It had been ten months since I had seen him during the pre-show meeting.  Billie had recovered and taken back control of the account and everyone went about their merry way.  
      I had avoided anything dealing with the band and even more importantly, Jake.  I threw my whole focus into my relationship with Frank and of course, work.  The job was taking another turn and growing all the more for it.  I had insisted on keeping some contact with editing and creating, but was finding myself more and more in the wining and dining of new clients.  It was fine.  Way more glamorous than I ever was, but new accounts meant more business.  
      I found myself unable to sleep a few nights after the last box was unpacked and discarded.  Frank was deep asleep.  I slipped out of the bed and wandered down to the kitchen for a cup of chamomile tea.  The night was warm and thick with pending storms.  I watched from the sliding doors, not wanting to deal with the security code that I seemed to forget about at least three times a week.  The lights of the bridges across the river rippled gold and silver on the murky water.  It was beautiful.  The constant strum of traffic and the stirrings of life was always welcomed, even beyond the glass I was staring through.  
     I tucked myself at the dining table with my laptop.  Work was not what was calling to me.  Frank's words about handfasting - whatever the hell that was - was prickling in the back of my skull case.  I took a sip of tea and started searching for the ceremony, digging deeper and deeper.  At first I was panicked that it was part of a wider wedding ceremony, but finally landed on the fact that it was just the piece that he was talking about.  It was a lovely concept that could be tailored to just us.  
      “Caught you,”  he said sleepily from behind me.
      I grimaced in surprise.  I was holding fast to my chest as he dropped a kiss to the top of my head.
      “Why are you up?”  I grumbled as I started to reach for the laptop in an attempt to hide what I was looking at.
      “I discovered my love was missing,”  he answered with a smile.  I knew he had seen it.  “I like that you’re looking at that.”
      No point in being coy as he moved into the kitchen for a glass of water.  I shrugged and wrapped my hands around my mug.  “What about it?”
      “Isn’t that what I should be asking you?  Did you like what you found?”  he asked, leaning his lean frame against the counter like a damn model.  
      I couldn’t really hide, so instead decided to be open.  “It was interesting…”
      I watched as his eyebrows raised and lowered with thought.  I wasn’t giving him enough.  I knew I wasn’t.  Clearing my throat, I set my cup aside and found my feet.
      “I liked the idea that we could do this just for us.”
      “Yeah?”
      I nodded.  “I understand that you want this to be more so to show your commitment to us.  I love you for it, too.”
      “But.”
      “But nothing.  I think we should do it.”
      The smile that lit his features made my breath stutter.  My beautiful man was all messy hair and flustered at two in the morning.  His excitement was easy to catch myself in.  He started talking about the cording and creating our own bindings.  We planned it out right then and there - because that’s what we were.  We would then secretly celebrate it calling it a housewarming party.  Perfect.
      True to tradition, we selected the color of our bindings according to the meanings of specific colors.  We decided to create our own cords, based on our commitment to each other, then twist them together.  The first day of May found us on the roof terrace overlooking the river.  Frank had poured us two very expensive glasses of wine while I found a pretty playlist for the afternoon.
      “Where do you want to start?”  I asked simply, my heart pounding clear out of my chest.
      I was fingering my cord as I held it tightly behind my back, hoping like crazy that it would be up to his expectations.  God, it was just the two of us and it still felt like there were a few hundred people watching.  He bent and kissed me, robbing me of my stabbing thoughts.
      “How about we share our bindings?”  he said, taking his out of his back pocket.
      I held mine out with a heavy sigh.
      “What was that?”
      I was finding myself swept over a tide of emotions that I did not expect.  My chest felt like it was full of fire while my throat was coated with concrete.
      “Baby, it’s okay.  Just us here.”  He trailed his fingers across my cheek.  “Do want me to go first?”
      I nodded my head mutely as my eyes totally betrayed me.
     His warm laugh filled me with all the more feelings.  I let out a stupid sob as he wiped at the ridge of my cheek.
      “I picked red for passion.  You have shown me nothing but passion in so many parts of you that are important.  Your work, your life, your thoughts and beliefs are so full of this passion that it’s hard to not think of you without passion being involved.
      “Next was blue for devotion.  You make loving you so easy that it is hard not to imagine myself being devoted to our life together.
      “Gray is for balance.  You showed me that I don’t have to be so serious - all the time.  There is a balance to our life together.
       “Pink to show you that we can have romance.  Silver to let you know that you are treasured.  And finally, purple - this relationship is sacred to me.”
       I cursed softly as I wiped at my face.  He just smiled his perfect smile, holding the three feet of cord before me.  I swallowed hard and held mine up.
       “Black, green, gold, brown and white,”  I struggled through these stupid words.  No way I could be as poetic as him, but he was smiling the whole time.  Those eyes encouraged me to continue.  I let out a groan as I practically danced from foot to foot.  “Strength, health, longevity, grounding, and peace.  Everything that I hope we can share.”
       I sucked in a huge breath like I was about to stumble into a panic attack.  He leaned down and captured my mouth in a kiss.  He whispered his love as he twisted the two cords together and took my hand in his.  I watched full of sniffles and jagged breath as he wrapped our joined cords around our hands.  I have to admit, in hindsight, it was beautiful.  And it was just ours.  
      “Until this love ends,”  he whispered.
      I nodded as he cradled my face.  He snapped a picture of the moment and we carried on, getting ready for our party.  Patrick was the first to arrive with Sidney in tow.  They were lovely as they filled our space with the warmth that all them.  The housewarming was a success.  Pat felt for sure something was up, but he dropped it when I finally just immersed myself in some conversation with Sidney that he found too boring to participate in.  
       In the night’s stillness, we made love until we were both complete messes of each other.  He sacked out so completely that he did not realize that I was once again slipping out of our bed, unable to sleep.  This time, a cup of hot chocolate was my comfort and my laptop was open to the main screen.  There was a scrap of betrayal in my heart that was pulsing.  Grinding at me like a virus that needed to be addressed before it delivered a murdering strike.  
      I pulled up my socials page.  There were notifications from all sorts of friends, and on the professional side, those from contacts around the world.  I ignored them.  I tapped my fingers to the trackpad in debate.  I had awoken because the shadow of him had strayed into my slumber.  The shade of old love lay stoked in a fold of my heart that I was sure had been gone.  But it wasn’t.  I found myself on Jake’s private page, frowning that I was still allowed to be in such a space.  But there he was.  The array of pictures of him and his family and her was astounding.  I felt like I was trespassing.  He was happy.  Every picture was that genuine joy that just radiated out of him like a beacon.  I found myself wondering if he ever married the girl, but there was nothing regarding a wedding.  
       Feeling like a stalker, I closed out and shut everything down.  I missed him.  The absolute polarizing moment that felt like my entire self was being shredded in two - I was so in love with Frank.  He got me.  Held me.  Elevated the idea of us.  I could only imagine the awful hurt that he would feel if he knew I clung to this tiny shred of love that was never to be.  What more, if he would ever find out that that love I held for Jake burned brighter than anything he could ever share with me, I’m sure it would be the end of me.  Fuck.  I felt myself crumble a bit under the weight of my own self hatred.
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CD&FE, Part 5.2: Jake’s POV
      “I’ll be right back,”  she said, pointing towards the bathroom.
      The airport was beyond busy.  I sat down with a heavy plunk and the sigh that followed was filled with weariness.  I wanted to be anywhere but heading out to Portland for yet another one of her friends’ gallery openings.  It was great - don’t get me wrong.  It was just literally us getting back from Sydney and jumping right on a plane without getting home to try to shift to changing time zones.  We weren’t in our twenties anymore.  We had just wrapped another tour, this time actually making it all the way around the planet.  It had taken every bit of time for two years, but we did it.  
     Clara had lived through every time change, every plane trip, every bus misadventure - everything with me.  All the while she had accepted the isolation and the absolute chaos that went along with being on tour.  She somehow found the time in those long stretches of me being busy to wander.  Her painting was really beautiful, and seemed to evolve as each month and each destination passed us by.  She never complained.  She never seemed to lag behind or want to return to Nashville and her studio.  In all honesty, I was concerned that we could not flourish under such conditions, but somehow, we were doing just fine.
      Except for at that moment in the Nashville Airport, it was absolutely packed due to weather delays.  My head was throbbing and my patience had been worn beyond thin.  I noticed that she was gone for quite some time when I started to look around to see if perhaps she made her way to a kiosk or was just walking to stretch her legs.  A fan stopped with a look on her face and I was happy to oblige with a quick picture.
      I started to scroll through my phone in hopes that perhaps Clara had found coffee or some form of super caffeine to power through this sludge of jet lag.  I responded to texts from Josh and Mom.  I checked the socials to find that Danny had posted up pictures of his boys playing on dad’s kit.  I grinned at the auburn haired boys in their feral joy.  
      “Hey!”  Clara called out as she was practically running towards me.  “Grab our stuff.  You’ve got to see this!”
      The excitement was just roiling off of her.  Her smile was beaming as she was grabbing at my hand to rush back the way she came.  Her words were pouring out, most of which were lost due to the noise around us, but she was definitely chirping about seeing something while stretching her legs.  She tugged me all the way back to the shops, stopping in the window of one of those stores with all the decor and little trinkets.  There were poster prints framed along the upper walls.  Clara was pointing up towards the top and was practically bouncing.
       “It’s so strange to see something of mine here!”  she said, her frame bounding with excitement.
      Indeed it was one of her pieces she had done a few years prior when we were in Scotland.  It was rough and wild and muted and perfect.  
      “That’s amazing, babe,”  I said as I wrapped my arms around her.  
      It was not the first time we saw her work someplace, but any time we saw it, it solidified that she was truly a professional artist, not just a hobbyist.  We bumbled back to wait for our flight, which finally made it out only four hours later.  Portland came quickly after falling asleep on the plane.  I fought my own self to drag my body off the plane and not be grumpy about it.  At least the hotel was close by.  
      Clara was all full of energy.  I was not.  I might’ve been a bit of a dick about it.  She had already been on the phone with the friends to meet up at a bar.  I knew, however, the moment my feet entered our room, there was no leaving it.  At least not that first night.  She called me old, but you know, I didn’t care.  At least we didn’t argue about it.  She was cleaned up, changed and out the door before I could fully figure out that I really didn’t need to be in public.  
     I wandered down and found a few beers to drag back to the room with what looked like some kind of sandwich.  Perfect.  I chewed my food mindlessly as I scrolled through my feeds.  Somewhere in the course of beer number two, I landed in less familiar territory.  I found myself looking into Y/n’s page.  It had been close to a year since I had last found myself anywhere near her sphere.  It had been nearly five years since the last time I saw her in person.  She looked good.  Beyond good.  She looked happy.  It looked like she was still with the same guy.  Imagine my surprise when she posted up a picture of her hand being held by him with a cord wrapped around it.  I had no clue what it was supposed to mean.  I finally had to look it up only to find that I wanted to vomit.  She was pretty much married to this man - something she had proclaimed to never truly desire.
      I tossed the phone onto the night stand with a curse.  She was happy.  That was all that counted.  I was happy with Clara.  Things were beginning to wear thin on the whole engagement front.  It was really getting old to have the folks question when they could expect us to either show up married or invitations.  Her family was scattered, but the friends were beginning to question if I would ever really commit.  Some voices were louder than others.  But Clara, herself, was beginning to lean towards making it official.  There was a piece of me that just resisted.  I was sure this was the part of me that was still dedicated to the idea that I would finally land in a place where Y/n and I would be together.  It was juvenile hope that drove that desire, but it was there.  Rooted deep in the shadows that Clara just couldn’t reach with all of her sunshine.
      To see Clara in her element was something special.  The night of the gallery opening, we were there, dressed well and champagne in hand as she glided through business partners, friends, and colleagues alike.  She had several commissions that she had been working on that were coming to a close soon.  It was like watching a bird on a branch that was ready to take flight.  She was so talented and unique.  Her nature spilled out into every stroke of her art.  Sometimes, I wondered if she was putting her literal spirit into the paint.  At some point in the show, I found myself off to the side in a darker corner, alone.  There were people around her that I had no idea who they were or what they wanted from her.  And I was fine in my little corner.  I did the partner thing - smiled and waved whenever her gaze turned to mine when she needed reassurance.  Eventually, though, I found myself alone completely.  Her friends were nowhere to be found and Clara was gone.
      I couldn’t help the pang of anger until I dug my phone out to see I had the Do Not Disturb on.  When I turned it off, I was quick to hold my hand over the speaker to dampen down what seemed like a million notifications.  Finally a text had come in that Clara was discussing a show in Chicago with a gallery owner who was quite taken with her collection.  She said to head back to the hotel if I wanted to.  
     Wow.  Dismissed.
     I didn’t like the feeling that washed across me.  I landed in the hotel bar drinking a double bourbon and feeling sorry that I was sitting on that ugly assed stool in that ugly assed bar.  I knew I was being stupid.  This was basically what Clara did all of the tour - waiting.  Waiting for those few hours each day that we could be together uninterrupted.  I could at least extend her the same kindness.  Honestly, though, through the jet lag and the lack of courtesy, I just felt slighted.  
      Up to the room and I once again landed face first into the socials, staring at that picture of Y/n with a short description of what she said was handfasting.  Hurt.  She hurt me each time she would not accept my love for her.  She hurt me with a show of ability to formally love some other man.  Did it squelch the spark that lingered in my soul that was only for her?  No.  God that woman fucked me up in ways no one else could.
       We were in Portland for three more days.  I spent most of the time buried in the bed at the hotel.  Clara was apologetic, but it was work.  Her work.  When we finally reached home in Nashville, it was quiet.  She was in her studio working.  I spent time with the family, and she was working.  I flew up to Michigan to spend some time with the parents, and she was working.  She was really on the precipice of something big and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to step in the way.  I allowed her that space just as she allowed me mine when I was working.
       We were off for eight weeks.  I had eight weeks to write.  With Clara in her own space, I worked with Danny and Sam dusting off a few projects that we had set aside.  I can’t lie, I was feeling a bit of distance between us when it came time to start the festival circuit for the summer.  It was the first time that she stayed behind.  Her opening in Chicago was the last weekend of July.  I promised that I would get a ticket and be there as it happened to be on an off day in between shows.  We were supposed to be in Denver for the start of one festival on a Friday and heading to New Jersey to finish another on Sunday; so really, the events were thankfully lining up right.  No way I would miss that show.  Her big debut.
       I had not been alone on tour in years.  It felt odd.  Sam had brought his whole family since the kids were off for summer vacation.  Danny, too.  Josh and his partner were thick as thieves with their small brood.  And I was alone.  I struggled.  Clara and I tried to connect over video calls and texts.  Late night phone calls did not work as she was either still working or dead asleep from hours of work.  I fought my own selfish need for her to be with me.  To watch my nieces and nephews tear around like we did when we were little made me feel a little removed.  I loved playing with them.  I loved being Uncle Jake.  However, knowing that I had only myself at night while my brothers had the love of their families so close - hurt.
     July had come storming through.  We had criss-crossed all over, soaking up the summer crowds.  I was busy.  Somehow, Denver arrived and I had forgotten to purchase my own ticket to get to Chicago.  I had been saying for weeks that I was going to get a ticket.  Each conversation with Clara, I was literally looking at airlines, and yet, I never purchased said ticket.  The day before the show, I was talking with Josh about the debut.  I was proud, showing off pictures that she had shared with me of what had been selected to be featured in her show.  Mom had called earlier in the week.  Her and Dad were already in Chicago, taking the opportunity to visit family there before showing their support for their almost-daughter-in-law.  I was so caught up in the shows and little things that I simply forgot to get my ticket.
       The night of the Denver show, I was on the phone while waiting for sound check.  One of the assistants took pity on my stupidity and offered to help.  After our check, he returned to me with a few options, all were just impossible.  One option was to fly to LAX first before Chicago.  Another was to fly to Pittsburg then back to Milwaukee with a car rental.  There was a private flight on one of those death traps, but my gut threatened to vomit all over the place just with the thought of being on one of those things.  I could also rent a car - and try to make the fourteen hour drive.  I was fucked.  The best I could do was fly standby.
      “I don’t understand.  I thought you had the ticket purchased,”  Clara said, her voice thin on the phone.
      I was shoving everything into my backpack as fast as I could.  It was seven in the morning and I had a cab waiting for me downstairs.  I was going to sit in that airport and force my way on any flight heading to the Midwest.  I would make it.  I could hear the stress in her tone.  I could hear the disappointment between her unspoken words.  I texted her when I scored a flight to Rapid City.  From there, I’d be on standby, but it was more likely to get me to Chicago before the end of the show.  I would be there.  No matter what.
      I didn’t hear from her.  I knew she was probably beyond pissed off with me.  I had been careless.  I got to Rapid City and found myself stuck.  Storms to the east across Minnesota had stalled my trek.  I could fly back to Denver and hope for the best.  Really?  
      “It was a noble try, Jake,”  Josh said, just before the chaotic mass of Kiszkas and Wagners were boarding the flight to Newark.  “Just get your ass here and you’ll have to sort it out later.  I’m sure Clara will understand.”
      “This was her fucking debut!  I can’t miss this.  She expects me to be there,”  I barked loudly.  
       He was right.  He knew it.  I knew it.  Our obligation was to get our asses to the next show.  It was thirty minutes until her opening when I called.  She didn’t want to hear it.  She knew that I tried but was too busy with her task at hand.  She said she would explain it to my parents before she hung up.  
       Exhausted, I surrendered to a red eye flight to Newark, but had a stop in Minneapolis.  My heart gasped with a deep ache.  It was hard not to feel that it was Fate poking a five pound block of salt in the wound.  Bitch.  
       I didn’t make it to New Jersey until somewhere around five in the morning the day of the show.  Management scolded me, but sent a car around to pick me up.  I slept a few hours before hitting the stage before a crowd of 40,000 people.  I wondered if anyone noticed that I was off that night.  I swear my chest was flayed open for any and all to see how I had fucked up.  
      I tried to call before and then after the set, but Clara didn’t answer.  I called Mom and she gushed how good the show was and how impressive Clara had been.  I knew that she would handle it with grace, but…
      “She’s angry,”  I said, allowing myself to feel my own disappointment.
      “Clara’s got all the right in the world to be angry with you,”  she responded in between talking with Dad.  
       “I can’t fix it, can I, Mom?”
       “I’m not sure, honey,”  she answered truthfully.  “All you can do is show her that you still love her.  That she’s your center, Jacob.  Time will make it up.  Just means you have to try harder at her next showing.”
      I flew home the next day.  Everyone else had a week to spend with the families before a show in Toronto.  I found her in our room with her bags packed and boxes waiting to be filled.  I really had fucked it up beyond repair.
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😐  I know.  Just hang in there.  Next posting is messy.  I mean, messier than this one.  
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jakekiszkadaily · 3 days
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pattypanini · 3 days
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Lay All Your Love On Me
Chapter 7- Girls Night Out
Jake Kiszka x Reader and Josh Kiszka x Reader
Word Count: 4.5k
TAGLIST
AN: Hi everyone! Here is the seventh chapter of Lay All Your Love On Me from me and @mar-rein12! Although this chapter does not have anyone going to pound town, we wanted to have a chapter where you could get a little lore on y/n and her friends.
Warnings: 18+, Alcohol (like an insane amount do NOT do this), sexting, nudes, cursing, angst. (Not very exciting stuff but your not ready for chapter 8 and 9 so take this chapter as a breathe of fresh air.)
Y/n’s POV
It’s been a little over a week since that night with Jake. After receiving that late-night text from Josh, things have gotten better between you two, but the guilt was still eating away at you. Josh has been friendly, but not as sexual with you. Sure, you’ve wanted to go over a few times and he's teased at it but nothing ever came of it. You missed your time with him. To make matters worse, you haven’t heard from Jake since that fateful night. You didn’t really know where you stood with either of them. You were confused by your own feelings. 
There you stood on the stage, right beside Josh, preparing to run ‘the wedding scene���. Your stage mom begins to walk you down ‘the aisle’ when the music begins to play, Josh standing at the altar. As the priest begins to speak, Donna interrupts him making the announcement about Sophie’s father. 
Your dialogue continues with your mother, “ I don’t care if you slept with hundreds of men. You’re my mom and I love you so much.” You give her a warm embrace. 
“I haven't slept with hundreds of men,” she chuckles along with you. Sam, one of your potential dads, walks up to the front and begins the tense conversation. As all your possible dads, come join you at the altar to support you in your marriage, for you to call off the wedding.
“Sky, let's just not get married yet. You never wanted this anyway. I know that. Let's just get off this island and just see the world!” You project in your animated acting voice. “Okay? Alright?” 
Josh pulls you in for a kiss and a hug. “I love you.” You know it was just acting, but you genuinely felt cared for in that moment. Josh scoops you up, bridal style, and carries you off stage. 
When you make it backstage, Josh gently puts you down, accidentally swiping his hand across your ass. You know it doesn’t mean anything, but you couldn’t help feeling a little spark. You take a deep breath, innocently resting your head on his shoulder. His left arm snakes around your body, gripping at your waist to pull you into his side. His mouth leans down towards your ear, lightly whispering “You did so well. This is gonna be a really good show.” 
“It really is.” There’s a moment of silence before you decide to bring something up that you have been thinking about for a little bit now. “We've gone through some real character development with each other. We went from enemies, to fucking, and now we’re really good friends. I would say that's pretty good.” 
“I wouldn’t say we were enemies.”
“I would, you hated me. But it doesn't matter because we're here now better than ever.” You stand there whispering a little closer. “But I do miss our times together. I think about it sometimes…”
“No one ever said they had to stop, you just never came over.” He places a little kiss on the top of your head. Giving you butterflies.
He was right, you haven't been over since your night with Jake, you felt weird going over. It felt wrong. But you’d be lying if you said you haven’t wanted to, maybe you should.
“Okay so when are we hanging out.” You ask boldly. 
“How about this weekend. We can go out Saturday, and if things lead to it you can come back to the apartment. Jake will probably be there. Do you care?”
Of course he’ll be there. But you couldn't act like that would change your mind. “Yeah that sounds good. I can't wait.”
“This might be a little pushy now but do you maybe wanna call tonight and catch up. Even though we’ve been hanging out during practice we haven't been talking much since then.”
“I mean we didn’t really talk a lot before that either, we kinda just fucked.” You chuckle a little.
 “True but we still texted more. So can we?” Josh asks with puppy dog eyes.
“As much as I’d like to I can’t tonight, I’m going out with Charlotte and the girls. We’re going to go bar hopping.” 
“On a Thursday?”
“Yeah! Thirsty Thursday.” A small giggle bubbles out of you nervously. Why was he making you nervous?
“Okay, well, what about tomorrow night?” He pushes. 
“Someone sounds a little desperate.” You tease him. 
“Is it desperate to want to talk to my friend?” Friend. You hadn’t heard him refer to you as his friend before, it was weird. But you pushed that feeling down and shook it off.
“Yes definitely, we can call, but why don’t you just have me over?”
“My dads coming up on Friday with my little brother to visit. He’s probably gonna come here unless he convinces our parents to let him work on music the way he wants to. Jake didn’t get out of that one.”
You chuckle a little. “Yeah sure we can call tomorrow and then hang out Saturday.”
“Sounds like a plan, I’m really excited.”
“Me too.” You smile at him,  really excited for this new era of the two of you. 
-
As your friends, Arianna and Mae, make their way to your apartment, Char finalizes her look for the evening you finish off your hair still in your satin robe. Char was sporting a red v-neck bodysuit with black flare leather pants. 
As you look at your closet you ponder on what to wear but couldn’t think of anything good. Maybe you could have a little fun tonight. You open your phone to your messages opening a new chat.
9:45pm y/n: What am I wearing tonight hottie?
9:46pm Jake: Didn’t expect to be hearing from you, I missed you.
It felt wrong, but you weren’t tied down, you weren’t with Josh. 
9:47pm y/n: I missed you too, I’ve been thinking about you a lot. Sooo I’m going out tonight, what am I wearing?
9:47pm Jake: Depends, where are you going?
9:48pm y/n: Bar hopping in town.
9:53pm Jake: Wear the baby pink tank that you wore on your insta a few weeks ago for your friend’s sorority event and that white mini skirt you wore in your Christmas post.
9:54pm y/n: Stalker much lol
9:56pm Jake: I told you I’ve had my eye on you for a while now.
You make your way to your closet and pick out the pieces of clothing Jake chose. You opted for no bra since this shirt held your boobs in place since it's pretty tight.
10:05 pm y/n: Done, thanks for the recommendation.
10:06pm Jake: Umm… no. Not how this works, show me beautiful. I wanna see that sexy body of yours.
You take a quick mirror picture, making sure to pose in a way that accentuates your curves. 
10:07pm y/n: Attachment: 1 image
10:08pm Jake: Perfect as always. I really love having some control over you. You know since I can’t really be with you other than in secret. 
10:10pm y/n: Thank you 😘 I like it too, you can control me however you’d like. 
10:12pm Jake: I'll keep that in mind. Keep me updated tonight, I'll be thinking about you.
You slip on your white booties and clasp your plain gold chain around your neck, along with your classic initial necklace and daily earring stack.
“y/n, Arianna and Mae are here now. Are you ready soon?” You hear Char shout from the other room. 
“Yeah one moment!” You make sure your makeup and hair look up to standard and finish everything off with deodorant and a quick spritz of your favorite perfume. You make your way out of your room, being met with the faces of your best friends. The room fills with shrieks and cheers as everyone sees each other all dressed up. 
“You look so hot, y/n. Your outfit is serving cunt,” Char never fails to make you feel good about yourself. Arianna and Mae agree with her, as Ari pulls her phone from her purse. 
“Selfie?” she says holding her phone up. You all lean into each other, smiles plastered across your soon to be drunken faces. 
“Alright! The uber is gonna be here any minute. One shot, then we gotta go.” Char says lining the shot glasses up on the table, she pours the clear liquid into the tiny glasses. Everyone throws their heads back to take their shot.
“WOOOOO! Lets fucking do this!” Mae screams at the top her longs making her way to the door. God you loved these girls.
Once you are finally in the Uber you feel a buzz come from your lap. 
10:27pm Josh: Be safe tonight, lmk if you need anything. I’ll be thinking about you.
I’ll be thinking about you. These twins have you fucked up, majorly.
10:27pm y/n: Thanks, have a good night too ☺️
When you finally make it to your first bar you and the girls hop out of the uber, feeling excited and ready for the night. Your heels clack against the concrete as you make your way down the sidewalk. You open the door of the bar and you’re immediately smacked in the face with deafeningly loud music and an intense wave of heat. 
“Holy shit, it's hot in here,” You hear Mae announce from behind you. You all make your way over to the bar to order your drinks. 
Arianna, Char, and Mae voice their drink choices to the bartender, as you stand there trying to decide what to get. You came to the conclusion that you needed something strong, something to help you let loose and forget about those god damn Kiszka boys. 
“May I have a long island, please.” You politely ask the bartender and turn around on your heels to face your friends. They are all staring back at you with widened eyes, drink in hand. 
“Damn girl, we’re only at the first bar,” Arianna jokes, a laugh erupting from the other two. 
“I know, I just really want to let loose tonight, it’s been so long since we've all seen each other. Besides, it’s okay to get fucked up every now and then,” you wink at them, you all share a boisterous laugh. “Ugh, I missed you guys so much.” You pull them all in for a big group hug, and pull away only when the bartender offers you up your drink. You give him a quick ‘thank you’ and make your way over to the booth the girls snatched up. 
You squeeze into the booth beside Char, who is sipping away at her vodka spritz. You take a sip of your own drink and spark up a conversation, “So, what have you guys been up to lately? Any special men in your lives?” 
You watch as Mae’s cheeks flush a light pink, “Actually, I have been talking to this guy. He's a really cute, kinda surfer boy with blonde hair. He’s from Hawaii and said that I should come down to visit him so he can teach me how to surf. Isn’t that so romantic?”
“How did you meet him?” Ari asks, wanting to know all the details.
“Well I was there in Hawaii for like a month on vacation, he was wearing a Michigan sweatshirt so I went up to chat and he said he was transferring here. We hooked up a few times while I was there and we’ve been talking for a few months now, I think it's getting real.” 
“That's so cute Mae! I'm so happy for you. When will I get to meet this amazing man?” You ask excitedly. You were happy at least one of your friends wasn’t struggling with relationships like you were. 
“Umm I don’t know , maybe I can introduce you guys to him this week. And what about you y/n anyone new on the roster or are you finally settling down?” Mae says, wiggling her eyebrows up and down.
“Nothing crazy, just doing my normal stuff.” You say, trying to bypass the question.
“Ummmm no actually, you’ve been pretty occupied with a certain someone for the past few weeks. He has even been over to the apartment.” Char says sipping at her drink, looking over to Ari and Mae.
“The apartment?! No guys are ever brought there, he must be special y/n.” Mae adds, giving you a sentimental look.
“He’s just been a good hookup, it's really nothing crazy. Don't act like you guys haven't gotten with the same guys more than once.”
“Well who is it?”
“That's none of your business, Ari.” You tease her with a devious smile on your face.
Mae and Ari look to Charlotte, knowing that at some point she would spill. You can see her struggling to hold it in before…
“IT'S JOSH KISZKA! I’m sorry y/n I really tried to keep it in.” Your forehead falls into your palm not wanting to look up at the group. “Charlotte, seriously!”
“Josh Kiszka, like the sexy theater kid Josh Kiszka?” Mae’s eyes are practically popping out of her head.
“Is there any other?” You reply dryly.
“How did you guys start talking, I hear he’s a hard one to get with. Heard he's kind of an ass, too” Ari says leaning towards you.
“Being an ass is 100% true, getting with him was actually pretty easy though. He was ready to risk it all the first time we hung out together outside of practice for the musical.” You feel the alcohol begin to take effect on your body.
“And his brother Jake, well the one time-.” Everyone is sitting waiting for you to finish. “Well he’s always gone. Josh always kicks him out of the house. I barely even knew he existed.” Lie. “Except for when he walked in on us.”
“WHAT! When???” Mae’s bright blue eyes grow even wider than before. 
“I don’t know, a few weeks ago? It was the first time we hung out alone. He made Jake go to a friend's house and then Jake forgot he had to go and walked in on us. Honestly, I think he did it on purpose.”
Ari cuts in. “I bet he did, I had a class with him freshman year and I overheard him talking with some kid. I think it was Tommy Bucks, nonetheless, they were looking at your Insta and Jake was saying some crazy stuff.”
“L-like what?” Suddenly you’re completely sober. 
“Oh I don’t know normal boy stuff. ‘She’s so sexy, I’d fuck her, She has a fat ass.’ Just the usual.” 
“I did end up getting with Tommy actually, I think.” You mention. You all share a little giggle. 
“Have you ever thought about getting with Jake?”
Oh fuck. “Like I said, I don't really know him. Only time I talked to him was when I had to leave and he apologized.” Oh, you were going to hell. 
“Makes sense.” Ari adds, Mae nodding in agreement. But Charlotte's face was telling a different story. Her eyes narrow at you, in suspicion. 
You chug the rest of your drink. “Next bar?” you suggest. 
Everyone nods and quickly takes their last sip before grabbing their things and heading out the door to the next bar. There were a good amount of bars nearby so taking an Uber wasn’t necessary. 
When you finally get to the next bar you start thinking about him. He’s been on your mind a lot recently, but you were so confused with your emotions. Things were becoming way too complicated for your liking. Against your better judgment, you decide to shoot him a text. 
11:15pm y/n: I miss you, I want you. Wish you were here.
11:16pm Jake: I miss you too sexy, and your body. I wish I could be with you, taking that slutty little outfit off. Who picked that out again?😏
“y/n order your drink!!!” Char screams into your ear over the blaring music. You look up from your phone noticing you’ve been staring at your phone for a little bit. 
“I’ll just have a strawberry daiquiri please, thank you.” Your eyes go straight back to your phone, fingers typing away quickly. 
11:16pm y/n: You did baby and I wouldn’t mind you taking it off of me either. 
Something washed over you, maybe you were ovulating but you were feeling a certain type of way. 
11:16pm y/n: Wanna see me, Jakey?
11:17pm Jake: Of course, sexy girl. Show me what's mine.
The bartender hands you your drink, and immediately you take a big gulp emptying half the glass. 
11:18pm y/n: Who said I was yours?
11:18pm Jake: Is anyone else getting these pics?
11:18pm y/n: No
11:19pm Jake: Then they’re mine, along with your body, all mine.
Next thing you know, Charlotte fingers are snapping in your face. “y/n, it’s girls night not ‘whoever your textings’ night.”
“Okay fineee.” You slur out,  shoving your phone back into your purse. You take another large swig of your beverage, following the girls out to the dance floor. One of your favorite party songs comes on, Bloodline by Ariana Grande. Perfect timing. 
“Even though you’re bad for me, I know!” You serenade Charlotte. Well, maybe more like scream at her. “You’re the one that I’m thinkin, got me feelin’ so incredible. Would you mind maybe linkin?” You sway your hips to the beat and every now and then take a sip of your daiquiri. 
Your favorite part of the song comes on, and with the influence that you were under, you were being absolutely obnoxious. “DON'T WANT YOU IN MY BLOODLINE, YUH. NOT TRYNA MAKE YOU ALL MINE, YUH. AND NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE, NO. BUT YOU GON’ HAVE TO LET THIS SHIT GO.” You scream the lyrics with your chest, jumping all around with Char, Ari, and Mae. This was the most fun you had in a while, but he was still lingering in the back of your mind. 
As you continue to dance, your drink slightly sloshes around in your cup. Charlotte, in her drunken haze, accidentally bumps into you,sending your drink flying all over your shirt. “Oh my God, y/n. I-I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, her words slurring together. 
“Char, it’s not a problem, really. I’m just going to run to the bathroom real quick to dry off. I’ll be right back!” You begin to walk away from the dance floor towards the bathroom.
“Do you want me to come help?” You hear Charlotte ask.
“No, no. It’s okay, I promise. I’ll be quick. Might take a piss while I'm in there, too.” You hand your drink to Char and disappear through the singular bathroom door, quickly locking the door behind you. You grab a few pieces of toilet paper and try to wipe off as much of the drink as you can. Oh fuck. When you look into the mirror, your nipples fully see through your baby pink top. Wait. You look back to the door to make sure it is locked. 
Opening your camera you take a few shots of yourself. One straight on, seeing your nipples through the shirt. One from above showing your cleavage, making sure to push and pull them in all the right places. You look back to see them. Damn you look pretty good. You take one more shot from below, showing your ass peeking out of your skirt. Perfect.
11:31pm y/n:  Attachments: 3 Images 
11:31pm y/n: I hope you're still thinking of me, I know I’m thinking of you.
11:33pm Jake: Holy fuck y/n, you’re so fucking hot. I need you so bad. Show me more baby please, I'm so desperate for you. 
11:34pm y/n: You want me to come over?
11:35pm Jake: Really? Please.
11:36pm y/n: No, keep dreaming tho 😉
11:37pm Jake: You're such a tease. I think you owe me now.
11:38pm y/n: You’ll get more later don’t you worry baby. Ttyl 😘
You quickly take your piss and make your way back onto the dance floor trying to find where your friends were sitting. When you finally locate them you take a seat next to Mae and take a sip of your drink.
“Char get off of HayDay, I swear you're addicted.” Mae says from across the table, much louder than she has to.
“HayDay is life guys. I’m almost to level 40 and I need to get my stuff ready for my boat.” She slurs as she stares at her phone like a little kid. You giggle at her taking a larger sip of your drink. I really want a beer.
“I think I’m gonna get a corona. I'm in the mood for it.” You say before slipping off your seat trying to make your way to the bar.
Ari grabs you by the shoulder, “y/n, I think you should slow down a little on the drinks.” 
“Omg you guys are so boringggg. I don’t even have class until 4 tomorrow so I’ll deal with it before then.” You continue your way to the bar asking the bartender for a corona with a lime. As you wait for the bartender to return with your drink you meet with an old face. Oh shit.
“What’s up, pretty lady.”
“Hi Mark.” You give a dry response not super happy to be seeing him especially after the call situation when you were with Josh. 
Mark used to be a regular hook up for you. He was an attractive man, 6 foot 2 and played basketball for the university. You met him in a class last semester and through ‘studying’ you began to see each other more often. Which led to makeouts and then quickly became hookups. But his attractiveness is as far as it went. He had an awful personality and wasn’t very faithful to any of his past girlfriends. And while he may seem charming on the outside, once you got to know him, his aggressiveness came out. He would get mad when you slept with other men even though you weren’t dating. So you slowly weaned off him and didn’t really reach out to him after that. 
“Why the sour face, aren’t you happy to see me?” He asks with his classic smirk.
“Not really Mark, so if you don’t mind I’m gonna go back to my friends now.”
“Whatever y/n, give me a call whenever you’re actively fucking someone else” Mentioning the call that happened the other day. 
“Why did it make you jealous hearing someone else make me feel good?” You give him a fake little pout, pretending to feel sorry for him. 
“Not at all, I know you’ll be crawling back to me whenever you get bored of the current man.” He says bluntly, walking away without another word. 
Fuck him. You grab your drink and head back to the table. “Guys you would not believe who I just saw.” You say sitting back in your seat.
Charlotte looks up from her phone, ready to hear the drama. “Who, spill.”
“Mark.”
“I fucking hate him bro. I don’t know why you hooked up with him for so long.” Char rolls her eyes.
“I didn’t give a shit about his personality, I just wanted to be dicked down.”
“Well, I think it's a sign we should head out.” Char says quickly sipping the rest of her drink down. You quickly grab your beer, chugging as much as you can before handing it off to Mae to finish the rest.
The last two bars were a drag. You didn’t drink that much due to the fact that you heavily drank in the last two. You finally get into the Uber and doze off until you are nudged by Char when you arrive at the apartment. 
When you make your way inside you shake off your boots and head back to your room. Jeez you look a mess. A hot mess nonetheless. You open your phone to a couple texts. 
The first being from Josh. 
12:47am Josh: Lmk when you get home safe. 
1:23am y/n: I just got back, Thanks for checking in on me, Josh. 🥰 Ttyt
The second being a less innocent text from his twin brother. 
1:04am Jake: I’ve been thinking about you all night. There hasn’t been a moment I wasn’t thinking of you. 
1:12am Jake: You make me wanna touch myself y/n. 
1:25am y/n: I can help you out with that 😉
1:26am Jake: Please baby I need it. If you don’t want to, it's okay, but I wanna cum to you. You make me fucking crazy.
You smirk at his texts. Oh, how you love begging men. You slip off your top and take a picture of yourself, holding one tit in your hand pushing it up slightly, snapping the photo. Maybe it was the alcohol but something came over you. You begin to take a little video. Holding your tit and pushing it up to your mouth. Sticking your tongue out trying to lick your tits, something that has been proven to get the men going. 
1:29am y/n: 2 Attachments: 1 image, 1 video 
1:30am y/n: I’ll talk to you tomorrow, enjoy your little videos, and don’t be scared to save them for a later date. Night Jakey😘
Without waiting for another text you plug in your phone and take off your skirt slipping into a large shirt. Taking off your makeup was not even a thought, you crawled into bed, reminiscing the best girls night out ever.
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@demonrat444 @gvfstuddedmajesty @jordie-gvf @jazzyfigz @slut4lando @gvfmarge @peaceloveunitygvf @jjwasneverhere @areuirish @mar-rein12 @woyayaofdreams @freyjalw @musicspeaks @jennabobenasblog @do-it-jakey-baby @dannys-dream @sarah-gvf01 @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface
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nina-23-45 · 23 hours
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as if they‘re twins or something
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infinisonicosm · 15 hours
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JAKE STOP
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who wants more enemies to lovers shit?????
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joshsindigostreak · 3 days
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🩸🖤
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But don’t worry, it’s not the end…
Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky ,
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JAKEY SMILING ON STAGE WAAAAAAAAA
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whollyfree · 4 months
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Let's Talk
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Summary – You have a hard time watching Jake be ogled, and he has a remedy to remind you what's yours.
Pairings – Jake Kiszka x F!Reader
Word Count – 3.1k
Warnings – 18+ MINORS DNI!!! oral (f!receiving), face-riding, unprotected sex, dumbification, LOTS of dirty talk, cockwarming if you squint, spanking, mentions of alcohol
You had really fucking had it this time.
Was it a normal thing for Jake to be ogled? Yes! How could he not be? 
It was far too easy to find yourself staring at him; so you truly couldn’t blame anyone else for doing so. With an air of confidence, he enters a room and every eye falls onto him. 
He is an enigma to all (except you, of course) and it felt like damn near every girl at that godforsaken bar was on a mission to have his eyes so much as glance their way. He knows this, of course. How could he not?
But behind his mysterious, debonair exterior, he’s Jake. Your Jake. Your soft, sweet Jake who raids your pantry to make you breakfast in bed and fills your car with gas because “why do you ever let your tank run that low?! It’s not safe!” he had argued (but he still fills it up every time). 
He’s your loving, tender Jake who litters you with kisses at any given moment and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck when the poor thing feels as if he isn’t getting enough of your attention. That, and he can’t stand not to be touching you in any form or fashion. He’s just like a little lovesick puppy!
And no matter how hard you try to remind yourself of these things, to be rational, you can’t help but have to bite your tongue. The jealousy eats away at you and it infuriates you to no end. You hate yourself for it.
Which is why tonight at the bar, you bit your tongue so hard you’re sure small trickles of blood had seeped their way into your mouth. Jake stood by the bar; an arm securely wrapped around your waist as he beckons the bartender over with a simple raise of his fingers. 
Of course, when it’s Jake, it’s not hard to get anyone’s attention; unwanted or not. And that was abundantly clear from the blonde at the end of the bar, twirling her straw in her cocktail as she eyed your boyfriend. 
Her eyes moved up and down, and you notice they became stuck on his exposed chest and silver necklaces dangling against his tanned skin. And, oh god, do you hate her for it.
Stop it. Your conscience pleads with you to (for lack of a better phrase) chill the fuck out!
Jake could tell you were a bit pouty. He knows you all too well. And just as assumed, he knew he was being eye-fucked by the blonde at the end of the bar (and one hidden away in a booth in the back, but like hell he was planning on telling you that).
Part of him hates himself for finding your jealousy so amusing. And in all honesty, if he saw a man looking at you the way that women have looked at him, he’d be raising hell.
“You okay, baby?” He grins as the two of you walk into your home after your excursion to the bar, tossing his car keys on the kitchen counter.
“Mhm.” You hum. Short and sweet. He won’t expect a thing, right?
You’re kidding yourself and you know it.
“Yeah?” He replies, crowding your space immediately from behind. He takes the curves of your hips in each of his palms, his breath tinted with the Maker’s Mark he had a glass of at the bar. Top shelf only for him, of course. “You were awfully quiet tonight. Getting shy on me all of a sudden, princess?”
You can hear the subtle teasing in his voice, and you’re sure he knows exactly what you were sulking for. But you simply answer, not ready to give yourself away too quickly. “No, just tired is all.”
“Just tired is all,” he mocks you with a low chuckle. You’re a terrible liar, always have been. “It’s cute that you think you could ever lie to me.” He adds, lips grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck – it already feels too much but not enough. 
And when his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, you feel a rush of heat between your thighs, and you swear your knees may give out. How he’s able to turn you into a puddle of yourself so quickly? You’ll never know.
“Come on, princess,” he sounds, and just like that it’s over. His hands are removed from your hips and he moves in front of you, his arm outstretched to you and his body facing the stairs. “Let’s go to bed then if you’re so tired.”
You try to hide your huff of annoyance, aching to have his touch again after being subjected to watch women drool over him all night. So you decide, no, you’re not going upstairs. Your arms cross over your chest like an insolent child who didn’t get what they wanted. Stubborn and spoiled. And your act of defiance is certainly not lost on him.
“No?” He quirks up an eyebrow at you, “Is the princess suddenly not tired? Sure are moody, though. What’s that about?”
God, you hate him. You hate that he’s finding your frustration the slightest bit entertaining. He’s taunting you, dangling the carrot in your face just to see you bite back.
He huffs out a laugh at your silence. “Oh, so we don’t wanna talk now, hm? That’s alright. We’ll see how long that lasts.”
Before you can even blink, you’re thrown over his shoulder like a rag doll. A surprised shriek slips out of you as he trudges up the stairs and in the direction of your bedroom. Smaller in stature he may be, but weak is not a way you would ever describe him.
“Jake!” You scold him, not having any of his shit right now. “Put me down!”
“Oh, so we are talking now?” He muses, depositing you on the neatly made bed. He hovers over you, standing at the foot of the bed where he practically threw you on it. 
“How about this then, princess?” He taunts, “Since you’re suddenly in the mood to talk, I say we play a little game. You talk, I listen.”
Seems easy enough…a little too easy. 
“Everything off.” There it is.
He strides over to the bed, climbing on before laying on his back. His head rests against the pillow as you continue eyeing him, slowly peeling your clothes off your body until your stark naked and sitting on your heels on the bed.
“So obedient, my pretty girl. And so fucking beautiful when you listen, aren’t you?” He coos. “Come have a seat, princess,” he beckons, still fully clothed, “talk to me.”
With a bite to the inside of your cheek, you rise from your sitting position to straddle his lap. And just as you begin to settle yourself – 
“Uh-uh,” he tuts. “Not quite, baby.”
Your incredulous look makes him laugh. What else could he have wanted?
“Come on,” he encourages, placing his hands on your hips. “Up you go, princess.”
With a quick slap to your ass, he hoists you up further. Your eyes go wide and you yelp at the crack of his hand hitting your skin, your heart racing as your knees straddle either side of his head. 
“Good girl,” he praises, his hands trailing up the sides of your thighs and to your hips to keep you steady. “Go on, princess. Tell me what’s got you so pouty. Wanna help.”
Considering you’re at a loss for words and can’t think straight with him eye-level with your cunt, you suddenly don’t even know why you were upset to begin with. But another swat to your ass quickly brings you back to consciousness.
“F-fuck,” you whimper, your head falling down and fingers gripping his hair. “They were staring at you…at the bar.” You manage out.
“Yeah? Who was, princess?” He’s teasing you even more now, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your clit until you choke out his name and begin tugging on the roots of his hair. He knows you can’t answer; you’re already too far gone and he’s hardly started.
But your impending fear that he would stop has you rushing out the words through uneven breaths.
“The girls at the bar,” you croak out as his lips continue pressing small kisses to your bundle of nerves. “Hated the way they looked at you. I was fucking jealous. I’m sorry.”
Pleased with your answer (even if he already knew it), he grins. And you can feel it against you before he presses one final kiss to your pearl.
“But you see, princess,” he says, smoothing his hands over your hips. “No one else gets to have this. Just because they see my face, doesn’t mean they get to fuck it like you do, do they?”
“N-no.” You reply, desperate to feel his mouth on you again.
“Good girl,” he croons. “And what they don’t know is that I get to have my face fucked by the prettiest little pussy whenever I please. Get to have your scent all over me. ‘Cause it’s yours, isn’t it, princess?” 
“Yes, sir.” You peep, unable to form another word if your life depended on it. 
Not only were you insanely turned on and dripping because his face was buried between your thighs, but it’s also due to how he speaks to you with such dominance and authority. He could have you on your knees (both literally and figuratively) with the snap of his fingers.
With one more praise of good girl, he dives back in, immediately sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking against it like a man starved. You feel your eyes roll back, a whining desperate mess above him. The tugging on his hair only gets tighter as he grips your hips to keep you against him.
You’re sure there will be marks, and you aren’t mad about it either. You need him tethered to you in every way possible.
He expertly licks through your folds, tongue gently prodding at your entrance as his nose brushes your clit. You can’t fight the whimper that leaves your lips, your pussy fluttering around the tip of his tongue. And when he groans at the feeling, you swear you’re done for.
“Jake,” you gasp, tightening your hold on his hair. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. He hums against your cunt, flicking your arousal against your clit before sucking it past his lips once more. 
“Yeah, princess? Feel that sweet little cunt fucking squeezing my tongue. That feel good? Feel good to take what’s yours?”
And before you have time to catch your breath, his tongue finds your entrance again. He wastes no time going harder, faster this time. His tongue fucks into you relentlessly, nose nudging your clit in perfect timing. It’s sloppy and wet and downright sinful.
You can hardly register when it happens, you’re so far gone, but you cum hard against his tongue. Grinding your hips against his tongue to chase the feeling for as long as your body will allow while you cry out his name like a hymn.
And he can’t get enough of it either, ravaging you and swallowing every bit he can muster until you pry yourself off of him. 
You look him over, his mouth, chin, and nose glistening with remnants of you. It’s enough to stir you back up again, your overstimulation be damned. Your lips crash into his, and he’s eager to capture them with his own, maneuvering you to straddle his lap. 
“Fuck, my sweet girl,” he breathes out. “Did so fucking good. Came so hard for me. Could eat that pussy until it suffocates me, I swear.”
You gasp when you feel his hardened cock through his jeans that he wore out make contact with your swollen clit. 
Grinding against him, you whimper against his lips at the new feeling bubbling within your tummy. He groans, feeling the slightest bit of relief as you grind against him. With the amount of wetness you felt between your thighs even after your orgasm, you’re sure that you’re absolutely soaking the fabric.
“This what you want, baby?” He murmurs. “Want my cock? Wanna fuck what’s yours?”
“Please.” You whimper, grinding down against him with a bit more force this time before moving your hips upwards to allow him to undress.
He practically moans when he sees the wet splotch of your arousal on the crotch of his jeans. “Fuck, princess. So fucking wet for me.”
“Jake, please,” you whine, tugging at his pants in an effort to make him move faster. 
“Oh, my needy little thing.” He teases, resuming pulling his pants down along with his boxers. “Just had her pussy fucked with my tongue and can’t wait for more, can you?”
You shake your head no, trying to will yourself to calm down. You don’t want him to think he has the power, even though he knows all too well that he already does.
“I know, princess.” He soothes you with his tone, tossing his pants and boxers on the floor along with your clothes. 
His dick stands tall, pressed against his stomach as precome leaks from the slit on the swollen head. He gives himself two languid strokes with his fist, hissing at the feeling. “Can’t wait to have you wrapped up around me…all tight and sweet and warm- fuck, come here, baby. Take it. Take what’s yours.” 
You’re quick to crawl back to him, desperate to have him inside of you as you grasp his shoulders for balance. Using one hand, you grasp him, whimpering when you feel his crown just lining up with your weeping hole. 
Jake holds your waist, patiently waiting for you to sink down around him. And when you do, you could cry from how good and full you feel already. You keen as you feel the familiar and pleasurable sting that only happens when he’s this deep inside you. 
“Shit,” He hisses, fighting the urge to fuck upwards into you. “Feels so good, princess. This cock is yours, baby. Everything is yours.”
And that’s more than enough to encourage you to begin riding him, rolling your hips back and forth at an even pace. You whine and mewl from above him as he holds your waist, encouraging you with each movement you make.
You’re both a complete wreck already. Jake is already so close to coming and you’d hardly started moving your hips against him.
“Whose cock is this?”
You hated when he made you talk. You could listen to him go on and on all day about nothing that truly mattered (especially in bed). But you hate having to talk as well. You feel like you were nowhere near as good at it as he is.
In hopes that he’ll somehow forget what he asked, you resume your movements and peel your eyes away, beginning to go faster in hopes that you’ll truly distract him. But that sure as hell doesn’t work.
“Uh-uh,” He scolds, using his free hand to take your chin and turn it to face him. Eye-to-eye. “Eyes on me, princess. Now tell me whose cock this is. Wanna hear you, sweet girl. Tell me nice and loud.”
You’re embarrassed. If your cheeks could turn any darker in this moment, you’re sure they would. And you don’t want to answer him, suddenly bashful even when he’s buried inside of you as you bounce on his cock. 
Displeased with your lack of a response, he angles his hips upwards, meeting you halfway to send himself deeper into the depths of your cunt. It catches you off guard to say the least, but only causes you to move faster, further onto him to chase that feeling again.
“It’s mine, sir,” you whine, words rushed and breathless. “It’s mineit’smineit’smine!” You continue, drunk off his cock and so close to coming you can’t hardly stand it.
Jake groans, continuing to push his hips upwards. “Yes, princess. My good fucking girl. It’s fucking yours.”
You want him to come harder than he ever has; want his cum deep inside you because it really is yours. He’s yours.
“Taking me so well, princess.” He pants. “Riding me so fucking good. Go on, baby. Want you to come again. Soak my cock, baby.”
Your words become mush, incoherent babbles as you continue fucking yourself on him. You can’t hardly breathe anymore, your chest heaving for breath as you feel the knot inside of you threatening to snap.
“Oh, princess…” he coos, “My dumb little baby. Can’t even get a word out when my cock’s buried inside you. Can’t even help it, can you?” He snaps his hips upwards more forcefully than before, an unforgiving pace that allows you some sort of reprieve from the burning in your thighs.
The moan that rips from your chest would have caused you to curl in on yourself in embarrassment, but right now you can’t seem to care. The way he’s fucking into you, the way he’s speaking to you…it’s too much for your already fucked-out brain to handle.
“Gonna come!” You muster out, your voice cracking as you grip his shoulders tighter.
“Yeah?” Jake taunts, still snapping into you as your pussy contracts around him. “Do it, princess. I can feel you fucking squeezing me so tight- fuck, baby. Gonna make me fucking come, aren’t you?”
You want to answer him; you really do. But all you can muster is a nod as your orgasm rips through you, your mouth dropping open and your cunt locking down around Jake as it fights to keep him inside. Your ears ring as you pulse around him, unsure if you’re making noise or not at this point. 
Jake’s orgasm washes over him, choking out a moan of your name as he buries himself as far as he can. He spills inside of you, cum spurting from his swollen tip and into you. You feel him coating your walls as your vision returns to you, his eyebrows furrowed and sweat glimmering his forehead. 
God, he’s beautiful all the time, but especially like this.
The two of you are a breathless mess, feeling the his cum mixing with yours as it seeps down your inner thighs. You breathe out a laugh, your forehead falling against his as he wraps his arm around you.
“I’m yours, princess.” His voice is as soft as silk as he traces his fingertips along your spine. “You know that don’t you?”
You smile, lashes fluttering as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes your heart feel warm – even when you don’t deserve it; even when you’re acting like a brat.
“I do now.” You tease, attempting to bite back a smile but ultimately failing when you hear him giggle.
“Oh, princess,” He tightens his arms around you. “What are we gonna do with you?”
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builtbybrokenbells · 2 months
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Reaching New Heights
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While under the impression that she has the house to herself, y/n enjoys some much needed alone time. Jake, planning on coming home to surprise her, walks himself straight into a whole new world.
Based off this request 🤍
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 11k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, virgin reader/losing virginity, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), masturbating (f!receiving), simultaneous orgasm, multiple orgasm, very soft dom type beat, slight cockwarming if you squint, dry humping, touch of spit play, touch of voyeurism, praise, dirty talk, name calling, begging, very very sweet Jake ☹️, anxiety, fluff, swearing, talks of bad dating experiences, sorry if I miss any!
thank to the lovely anon who requested this! sorry for all of my other requests waiting, I promise I’m getting there! I had an idea like this already sitting in the drafts, so when I saw this request I had to write it! I hope this is what you were looking for, and I do apologize for this basically just being pwp. As always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! 🤍 (extremely lightly edited)
Intimacy, especially in the sexual context, had always been a touchy subject for you. It wasn’t because of any moral dilemmas, nor because of bad past experiences. You weren’t saving yourself for marriage, and you did not value your virginity as a ‘virtue’. You simply chose not to engage because you had never met anyone who you believed was right for you. You had plenty of dates and failed talking stages with men who only ever seemed interested in getting in your pants, but you had never met someone who seemed interested in you beyond anything sexual. You wanted to explore, to test your own limits and discover yourself with another person, but you could not bring yourself to undress for someone who only wanted (and planned) to leave after the fact.
You were comfortable with your own routine, and after a while it seemed more likely that you would remain a virgin until your hair turned gray and you were sat in a nursing home. At first, it bothered you, but then it became the most normal part of your life. You would rather keep to yourself than give away a part of you to someone who would not appreciate it. Most people weren’t interested in dating once you specified that you would not put out on the first date, and to you, that was okay; they weren’t worth your time or effort. Life was simple without anyone else empeding on your routine, anyway.
Then, one fateful day at a lovely, locally owned music store, you found yourself in front of someone who changed your world entirely, flipping it on its axis and throwing your whole life off course. You had (literally) run into him when you were least expecting it; he had stepped in front of you as you were bustling to the counter to pay for your handful of vinyl records. He apologized profusely, landing a gentle hand on your arm to make sure you were steady on your feet and he hadn’t hurt you. You were too enthralled in the beauty of his face to comprehend the words he was speaking, anyway. His long brown hair hung down to frame his face, and his warm, chocolate coloured eyes seemed to be staring straight into your soul. His smile was inviting, and his charm was unexplainable. He’d made you fall for him without even trying.
Once you managed to overcome your nervous staring, you forced a smile and assured him you were alright. He introduced himself, hesitant to believe you were telling the truth, and insisted on buying your records for you as an apology. After a drawn out back-and-forth argument, he eventually managed to convince you that it was the only apology he would allow for himself. Before you ventured to the counter, you took interest in the specific guitar he was fawning over on the wall. After explaining the details to you, you were left feeling disappointed at the prospect of having to part with him once you stepped out the door.
He ended up buying your records, and the guitar hanging on the wall, but he didn’t seem to want to let you leave without anything more, either.
So, instead of going your separate ways, you ended up at a diner just down the street, sharing lunch and getting to know each other as best as you could in the limited time you had. Laughs were plentiful and fulfillment was felt from all sides. Jake Kiszka was the man you had been waiting for, someone who saw you as a person, not just something to fuck. He was interested in every small detail, and he wanted to know everything he could about you. He was a bit shy, and very nervous, but he was sweet, kind, and he took your breath away. When you left the restaurant, you had a new found excitement for life, and a phone number in your contact list that would now be called on the daily.
At first, the relationship was built slowly and carefully. The two of you started as friends, texting each other regularly and trying your best to discover all of the intimate details about each other. Then, when you guys built up enough courage, you started going on small dates; movie nights, dinner dates, Sunday afternoon drives… you wanted to do anything and everything with him. He quickly became your closest friend and your most trusted confidant. You spent so much time together that it was almost strange not being in the same place. Of course, eventually, his time to tour came around, and it threw your life so violently off track that it was nearly hard to function.
When he first told you, you tried to force a smile and pretend all was well, but he knew you better than that. He could see the sadness in your eyes, and the apprehension. You were both so head over heels for each other that it made it hard to think of anything else. All of the late night phone calls and evenings spent immersed in each other had finally resulted in something much bigger. You were in love, and you were terrified for him to leave you. You feared that once he was gone, he would find someone more exciting, more interesting. Little did you know, he was afraid of all the same things.
So, as you sat in his living room while he packed up the last of his things, he dropped a sly comment about you taking care of his place while he was gone, coming over and watering his plants, and even staying the night if you missed him too much. It was his indirect way of giving you a key to his house, and in turn, his heart. He slipped the spare key from his pocket, handing it over and giving you a smile. Before he went to the airport, you found yourselves confessing your hearts and kissing with tears running down your face. He asked you to be his girlfriend before he ever got on the plane.
Every night, when he was holed up in a different hotel room, he was calling you with excitement, unable to wait to tell you all about his day. It was a different kind of feeling, falling in love with someone without anything other than emotional connection. After a year of touring and only being home with you for a few days at a time, he was growing restless and more eager to be with you again. By the time he got home from traveling the world, he missed you so much that he rarely let you leave his side. Within a few months, your belongings were packed up and ready to be taken to his house, and not long after that, it was no longer just Jake’s house, it was yours, too.
When the two of you were together, it grew increasingly more difficult to navigate your lack of sexual experience. He was very affectionate, his hands always on you and kissing you whenever he could. You felt that he was getting frustrated with your rejections, and it forced you into a corner. You had to open up to him, to tell him the truth and that your avoidance was not because of him at all. You sat him down not long after the two of you moved in together, knowing that you should have confessed to him sooner, and fearful that it would change the way he viewed you.
But, almost as if Jake was put on the earth to challenge every single previous idea you had about men, he smiled and held you, expressing his gratitude that you were comfortable enough to share such things with him. He fell in love with you without sex, and that did not change anything for him. You were worth much more to him than that, and he wanted to make sure you knew it. He thanked you for telling him, and he apologized if he ever made you uncomfortable with his actions before your discussion. He promised that he would never push you, and you could take as much time as you needed to open up and explore that with him.
He was a dream come true, and after a few months, you could easily see that he was determined to stay true to his word. He didn’t once make you feel bad for wanting to wait a little longer, and he never pushed you to do anything that made you uncomfortable. Soon after, you began to realize that Jake truly was the one for you, and that all of your previous fears were quickly becoming obsolete. He did not want you for sex; he loved you for your heart, and when you were ready, he would love you for everything else, too.
Even while you found yourself amidst heated make out sessions, and you could feel how much he wanted you, he never pushed you further. When you laid in bed, and he inevitably found his hands becoming more and more curious, he stopped himself before you even had to say anything. He looked the other way when you were getting changed, and even closed his eyes and left the room if he accidentally walked in on you in an awkward position. He was the epitome of patience and kindness, and the longer you watched him respect you in such a way, the harder you fell for him.
You made sure to thank him often, expressing your appreciation for his patience and his willingness to wait. He valued you so highly, and your comfort was always his top priority. Sometimes, you feared that if you made him wait too long, he would begin to lose interest, but every day he proved to you that he was in it for the long haul. He wanted to be with you, and it did not matter in which way. He loved you, and if waiting made you most comfortable, then he would wait forever for you. It quickly became apparent to you that he was the love of your life, and the prospect of sharing that part of you became more enticing every single day.
It was not like you didn’t want to have sex with Jake; if anything, you wanted it so badly that it made it hard to think of anything else sometimes. Once the fear faded away, it was replaced with awkwardness and uncertainty on the topic. You feared that because of your lack of experience, it would be disappointing for him. There were so many questions that you did not know the answer to, and they plagued you almost every time you thought about it. What if he thought you were stupid because you didn't know what you were doing? What if he wasn’t interested in you once you took your clothes off? What if you did nothing but embarrass yourself?
It was all too much sometimes, and you knew the best way to deal with it was to talk to him, but the topic was daunting for you, and it was embarrassing. It was something you knew little about, and it made you feel silly and even a little naïve. You didn’t know what you liked, and you certainly didn’t know how to do anything that he liked. You knew that with the patience that Jake had shown you, he would be nothing but kind in bed, and he would certainly help you figure everything out, but it was so scary to think about, and it was easier for you to avoid it. You were afraid of looking dumb, and the fear hindered you more than anything else. In the time you spent with him, it became more clear that Jake was what you’d been waiting for the whole time, but now you were facing a whole new challenge; being vulnerable enough to let him show you the ropes.
Every so often, curiosity got the best of you, and you let your eyes linger on him a little too long when he was shirtless, and an unfamiliar feeling would blossom in your stomach. He would move a certain way, or his hand would move a little too far up your thigh, and you would be plagued with temptation to touch him. He would wear certain clothes that would drive you crazy when you looked at him for long enough, and it was becoming harder to ignore every single day. He was what you wanted, and it was so difficult to feel that way when you felt paralyzed at the thought of progressing any further. Jake was driving you crazy, and he wasn’t even doing it intentionally; he was just existing, and that was enough to push you closer and closer to the edge.
Like when he would stretch, and a peek of his tanned stomach would be visible, showing you his treasure trail and a slight hint of a v-line, or when he was sleeping so soundly and turned on to his side to pull you to his chest. The feeling of his body against yours was intense, and the longer he held you to him, he more turned on he would get. An ache would begin between your legs as he slept soundly behind you, his erection pressing into your ass. He wouldn’t even realize it, but he would pull you closer to relieve the ache and give him some much needed friction. You would let it play out; you enjoyed it so much, but you could not seem to voice that to him while he was awake. When he woke and realized the extent of his actions, he apologized profusely while you continued to imagine what it would be like if he kept going, pulling your shorts down just enough to give himself access to you.
You imagined what it would feel like as he rested himself against your entrance, speaking softly in your ear as he talked you through it. How he would put his fingers in his mouth, collecting enough spit to lubricate them before his hand drifted between your thighs. You wondered what it would feel like for his fingers to be tracing around your clit instead of your own, how excited he would be just from touching you alone. Your skin tingled at the thought of his rough fingertips gently working at you as he whispered encouragement in your ear, eventually working you up enough to add his cock to you, too. The picture of him being inside you was too much to bear, and just the thought of feeling so close to him was intoxicating. You had to force a smile on your face while apologized, assuring him you were alright while you thought of all of the filthy things that he could be doing to you. You wanted it so bad, but when you finally found enough courage to ask that of him, the words seemed to get stuck in your throat.
When he would leave for errands, or when he would go to work in the mornings, you would think back on the incidents that caused the flutter in your belly. The longer you focused on it, the more uncomfortable you became. You would work yourself up to the point of no return, and you would have to relieve yourself before Jake got back. In your shared bed, you would let your hand slip between your legs as you thought of all of the things Jake did to you without even knowing it. It wouldn’t take long until you were a mess, muttering his name as you reached a climax that was stronger than any you’d ever felt before.
It was almost routine, now. You were so needy that every time Jake stepped out for a moment, you would have to take the time and get yourself off. It was the only way you could keep up with the temptations without having to open up to him about it. He would come home, and you would smile and kiss him as if your fingers hadn’t just been playing with your own cunt while you imagined it was him doing it, instead.
This small ritual was exactly what happened on that specific day; you had grown so comfortable with it that when Jake left for the studio in the morning, you couldn’t wait to finish your household chores so you could cut straight to the point. You kissed him goodbye, wishing him a good day, and watched as he walked to his car, guitar case in his hand as he blew a kiss to you over his shoulder. The jeans he was wearing were tight, hugging every inch of his legs and showcasing every small detail to you. The denim sat nicely over his ass, and unfortunately for you, every other part of him that you tried your best not to think about. His shirt was old, the button up beginning to fray at the sleeves and the fabric becoming thin and worn. He had the last two buttons done, but left the top open as always. The soft, tanned skin of his chest made your mouth water and your stomach twist with desire. You did not know how much longer you could hold yourself back.
He got in his car and drove away, but you stayed at the door, watching the now empty space for a moment longer while you collected your thoughts. You were so worked up that your cheeks were burning and your heart was thudding dramatically against your chest. You forced yourself to shower, taking some extra time to shave and really make yourself feel good. You did the dishes, and you grabbed something to eat, and you wondered if you might be able to curb the urge that day. Once you were away from him and busy with other things, the need seemed so much smaller.
As you sat down to eat, you knew that it was absolutely impossible to ignore such a feeling, because the minute your mind was left without a distraction, Jake was the only thing it wanted to focus on. You forced your lunch into you, remembering that Jake said his day at the studio might be a little longer than the last. You had ample time to really draw the whole experience out, so that’s what you did. When you made it to your bedroom, you knew you had about an hour until he was home again. You took off your clothes, put on some music, only quietly so you could hear if the front door opened, you turned off the lights, and you laid on his side of the bed. You closed your eyes, breathing slowly as you remembered the morning the two of you spent together. It started sweet, like always.
You woke up with Jake next to you, the scent of his shampoo lingering in the sheets as the soft sounds of his snores filled your ears. You looked back over your shoulder at him, smiling as you admired the peaceful expression on his face. He was shirtless, as always, only a pair of boxers on as the comforter covered up his lower half. You watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed, and his stomach, too. You knew you shouldn’t have looked for so long, because the longer you stared, the more curious you became. You reached out, settling your hand on his stomach gently, a little lower than you usually would. You let your fingers drift over the skin, sending a light tickle through him. He tensed slightly at the feeling, but did not wake. After a few seconds, he woke up just enough to realize it was you touching him.
He moved onto his side, draping an arm over your waist as he pulled you closer to him. Every morning went the same, and you looked forward to it every day. He guided you into him, resting your back against his bare chest. His warmth was comforting, and you wished to live in the moment forever. His hand that was wrapped around you drifted underneath your shirt, resting on your stomach as he brought you even closer to him. The curve of your ass fit perfectly against his hips and his nose was brushing against your shoulder. His head was buried in the crook of your neck as he placed a gentle kiss on it. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine and you closed your eyes. He seemed more awake than he usually was, but not completely aware.
You brought your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his own. Once you felt like he’d drifted off to sleep again, you guided his hand upwards even further, so it was resting on your rib cage just below your breast. You wanted to take it further, but instead, you pushed your ass back into him a little. In his sleepy state, the small feeling prompted a physical reaction. His breathing quickened, but he didn’t move any further. For a moment, you had to question if he was awake too, or if he was stuck in a dream about the exact position you were laying in. His rough fingertips against your skin was intoxicating, and you needed more, but you were too afraid to wake him and tell him so.
You moved your hips against him again, feeling his fingers tighten against you. His knuckles brushed against the underside of your breast, and even in a sleeping state, he could recognize that feeling from anywhere. On his own, he moved his hand up further, cupping it in his palm as his head nuzzled further into your neck. Your breath caught in your throat and that familiar feeling began to pulse in the pit of your stomach. His grip grew stronger, and for a moment, you really did believe that he was awake. His thumb drifted over your hardened nipple, causing your hips to move against him again.
You could feel his erection growing against you, becoming more noticeable as each second passed. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the ache begin to make itself known. Your breathing sped, and your heart pounded against your chest. His hand stayed on your chest for only a moment until a small noise escaped him, his own need showing even while he was asleep. His hand traveled down your body, landing on your hip as he pulled you back on him. Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to keep yourself quiet. You bit down on your lip, scared to make a sound in case he woke and the moment ended.
His fingers held you tightly as he pulled you back on to him, his cock painfully hard as his hips moved against your ass. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable, and you could only imagine that he was feeling the same type of desperation amidst his dreams. Then, as your heart raced, you heard him whisper your name so delicately that a shiver ran down your spine. He wasn’t just dreaming of sex; he was dreaming of you.
Instead of focusing on what came after, when he woke up with embarrassment written in his features and apologies on his tongue, you pretended what it would be like if you had the courage to tell him to keep going. As you thought of it, you let your hand slip between your thighs. You were already aching for relief, your arousal pooling and showing you just how bad you needed him. You let your middle finger begin tracing slow circles around your clit as your mind clung to thoughts of Jake and just how much you wanted him to take care of you.
You imagined his dark eyes growing heavy as he woke, apologizing being the last thing on his mind. You imagined the desperation in his movement as his fingers dipped below your shorts, moving back from you only for long enough to pull them down over your ass. You thought about how good it would feel to have his hand drift to your cunt, relieving the ache that he’d become so good at causing. You didn’t want him to ask if it was okay, or for any type of permission. You wanted him to have you however he wanted, and you would just be thankful that he was giving you anything at all.
“How does that feel, Angel?” He asked, his voice raspy and rough from sleep as his fingers trace around your aching clit. “Does that feel good? Is this what you want?”
“F-fuck, yes, Jake.” You whine, moving your hips forward to meet his hand, so needy and he barely even touched you yet.
“Just want me to take care of you, baby? Need me to show you how good I can make you feel?” His normally sweet and doting personality was gone, replaced with an animalistic desire after waiting so long to have you. You could feel his cock pressing into your ass, still aching to be touched. He needed you so bad that it was impossible to hide it. “You know I’ll always take care of you, sweet girl… give you anything you want.”
“Y-you, Jake. I want you.” You pleaded, feeling yourself clench around nothing. You wanted him so badly, and you weren’t sure if you could wait any longer.
“You want me, sweetheart?” He crooned, the sound of your desperation sending a shiver down his spine. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes please,” you plead, feeling your stomach twist with pleasure.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he whispered, his tone resembling a growl. He drew his hand from you, pulling his boxers down just enough to free himself. He brought his hand to his mouth, spitting on it and stroking himself for a few moments. He moved his hips forward, resting the tip of his cock against your entrance. “How bad do you want it, sweetheart.” His low tone settled deep in your bones, making your entire body quiver.
“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You squeeze your eyes shut, your breath stuck in your throat as you feel him push inside of you.
You worked yourself up to the point of absolute desperation. You felt like you were on the brink of insanity, your skin was on fire and your mind was a mess with thoughts of the boy you were so in love with. You were so deep in the fantasy that you could feel it, as if he was in front of you, touching you and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You were sweating, your heart racing and your stomach twisted into knots. You needed to let go, but more than that, you needed him.
Little to your knowledge, Jake was unlocking the front door, a sneaky smile on his face as a bouquet of flowers was held tightly in his hand. He’d been planning this all week; coming home from the studio early to surprise you, just to see the look on your face. He’d been working more often than usual as of late, and he felt like he wasn’t spending enough time with you. He’d specifically told you he’d be later than he actually would be, just so he wouldn’t ruin the element of shock. When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he expected to be greeted by you soon after. His confusion grew as he looked to the kitchen and did not see you there. Next, he checked the living room, wondering if you were curled up on the couch reading a book.
When he couldn’t find you there, he figured the only other place you would be is the bedroom. Your car was outside, and you hadn’t mentioned having to run any errands that day. He took to the stairs, wondering if you decided to take a nap or watch a movie in bed. As he climbed to the top of the stairs, he noticed the soft drift of music through the door. He smiled to himself, knowing he would find you wrapped up in blankets and dozing away the day. He could curl up next to you, holding you close while you slept, and maybe even fall asleep beside you. As he reached the door, he was about to reach out and turn the knob, but he froze in his tracks.
An unfamiliar, incredibly enticing sound reached his ears. It was muffled, barely heard over the speaker and through the closed door, but he caught it. Instead of interrupting, he waited and listened, wondering if his ears were deceiving him. He moved his head closer to the door, nearly pressing his ear against the hollow wood as he strained to hear, trying to piece together the situation.
You were so lost in your own little world that you did not hear the door open downstairs, nor did you hear his footsteps in the hallway. You were so close to an orgasm that not much could distract you from it. Your eyes were shut, your breathing labored as you pictured how softly his hands would drift over the curves of your hips, and how intoxicating his tongue on your skin would feel. You thought of the sweet words rolling off his tongue, the imaginary praise and encouragement driving you even closer to a climax. He would be so sweet, so attentive and caring, and you knew he’d make you feel better than you ever had before. You couldn’t help it, the moans falling from your lips were obscene and his name was delicately mixed within them as if he was in there with you, causing the pleasure himself.
He listened carefully, his cheeks flushing with pleasure at the sound of pleasure stuck on your lips. Desire filled him, running all the way from his throat down to his stomach. It made his chest burn and his skin tingle with excitement. In an instant, he’d forgotten about the romantic gesture and the flowers in his hand; he was only focused on wanting to be the reason those sounds were laced around your tongue. He didn’t want to interrupt, and he feared that if he opened the door, he would embarrass you to death. He worried about overstepping, and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but the sounds were so beautiful that it made his head spin. He tried to force himself to stop listening, fearing he was breaching your trust and invading your privacy, but he couldn’t will himself to walk away.
He was growing increasingly frustrated as he stood and listened, his heart pounding against his chest and his whole body aching with desire. He could feel himself growing more turned on, his cock pressing against the zipper of his jeans as his own desperation became stronger. He palmed himself through the fabric, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He knew he should walk away, leave you alone to finish up and go take care of his own problem. It was the right thing to do, and he knew that, but the idea of you touching yourself, possibly to the thought of him, was so enticing.
Just as he thought he could find the strength to walk away, he heard the sound, so gentle and loving that he could not withstand it any longer.
“Oh god, Jake.” You whined, the sound floating through the door and settling deep in his chest. “Jake…”
It was too much for him. His hand shot out, clasping around the doorknob as he gently pushed it open. The light flooded the room, illuminating you laying so intimately on his side of the bed. Your cheeks were flushed, blotchy with red patches. A thin layer of sweat had formed over your body, only making you all the more beautiful to him. Your lips were parted, his name still caught on your tongue as your hand was settled between your legs, working intently at your cunt. Your head turned to the side, your eyes wide with shock as you tried to process the sudden change in the situation. You were so caught up in pleasure that your hand didn’t even move away from your clit as you locked eyes with him.
Suddenly, your brain seemed to catch up with the situation, and embarrassment began to take over. You panicked, scrambling to move your hand away and cover yourself with the blanket, but he took a step closer and shook his head, speaking lowly to you.
“Don’t be shy, Angel.” He rasped, looking down over you with dark eyes. The man before you seemed to be a stranger, nothing like he was in the morning before he left, but in the best possible way. The calm, domineering tone was so different, but it was fantastic all in the same. He looked down at you, his lips curled into a slight smirk as he stood over you at the foot of the bed. The desire he’d been holding back for so long seemed to be coming to the surface. He couldn’t help himself, and a part of you was thankful for it. “Don’t stop, sweetheart. You can put on such a good show.” His eyes lingered over your face, watching you closely to see if you were uncomfortable. Instead of discomfort, you seemed curious, excited, even.
And you were. You didn’t intend for the situation to turn into this, but perhaps it was the best possible outcome. You had been so afraid to have sex with Jake, and for reasons that were completely irrelevant. He was the man you’d fallen so deeply in love with, and someone you wanted to share this part of you with, too. Him walking in on you allowed you to avoid the awkward conversations and nervous stuttering, because you were already worked up to the point of no return. This made the part you were dreading so much easier, and the look in his eye made you feel foolish for ever thinking he wouldn’t love your body just as much as he loved your heart. Something in his expression told you that he would give you all of the direction you needed if you allowed him to do so.
Slowly, you pushed the blanket away from your body, returning your hand to its earlier position. You continued holding his gaze as you brought your middle finger back to your clit, tracing slow circles while he gave you a smile of satisfaction.
“So this is what you get up to when I’m gone all day?” He asked, his tone low and gravelly. He was so overcome with lust that it was impossible to think of anything else. “As soon as I leave, you come up here and play with that pretty little cunt, without me?” His expression was stern, his jaw tense as his teeth clenched together. You could see his cock strained against his pants, and the fact that he was really standing before you rather than existing in your imagination was making the pleasure all the more intense. His words were filthy, but for some reason, it didn’t seem to scare you. You’d been fantasizing about words like that coming from his mouth since the first day you met him.
“Y-yeah,” you nod, stuttering slightly. He didn’t care, nor did he notice, anyway. Your embarrassment was growing smaller with every passing second, and the desire in his eyes made the whole thing seem less terrifying. To see him want you so badly made your stomach twist into knots. He gave you a small smile at the word, happy to see that you weren’t shutting him out. The small expression was enough encouragement for you to keep going.
“Do you think of me, Angel?” He asked, his gaze flickering down to your hand, working carefully to build yourself back up to an orgasm. “Do you wish that I was here doing it, instead?” He asked, reaching one hand down to his cock, adjusting himself in his pants to make it more comfortable while he watched. Your eyes were fixated on his hand, cheeks red at the thought. You wanted to see more, but you weren’t sure what to do next. You were so out of your comfort zone, but something about being able to do it with Jake made it all the more easier. “Come on, baby. Talk to me.” His voice was softer, now, showing you that he was willing to help you through it.
“I-I do,” you nod, catching his eye again. Somewhere in his pupil, he was trying to tell you that it was okay, and you believed it.
“You want to show me what you do when I’m not here?” He asked, gauging your comfort level with his questions.
“Yeah, okay.” You breathe, nodding again. He gave you another smile, licking his lips slightly. To see him look at you in such a way was almost too much to resist. Instead of jumping straight into it, you let him talk you through it, slowly and steadily.
“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart. Just like that.” He said, watching as your hand worked at your cunt. “Then, once you finish, maybe I can show you what it’s like when someone else does it for you.” He posed it like a statement, but he was asking for permission. He needed to touch you so badly, but only if you wanted him to.
“Yes, please.” You whisper, excited at the thought. You were already so close to the edge, spending the last half an hour working yourself up to a climax. The intrusion slowed down your progress, but definitely did not stop it completely. As you finger drifted over your clit, your stomach was burning with the familiar feeling, but it seemed so much more intense than before now that he was watching you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you could feel the pull of pleasure again, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breathing.
“That’s it, baby. Doing such a good job for me.” He said, but it was strained. He wanted to be the one driving you crazy, and it was nearly torture having to watch you and not touch you. You try to hold your moans back, scared to embarrass yourself, but he thought that your state was all but shameful. He thought you were gorgeous, and he felt so lucky to be able to see you like this at all. “Let me hear those pretty noises again, sweet girl.” He pleaded, taking a step closer to the bed. “Don’t be shy with me.” At his permission, your lips parted and a soft moan filled the air. The sound alone nearly drove him to insanity. He watched you carefully, noticing as the muscles in your stomach tensed with every wave of pleasure. He wanted to remember the way you looked in that moment forever.
You were so close to an orgasm, and the desperation was evident in your movements and your voice. He needed it like the starving needed food, and he couldn’t wait much longer. He leaned down over you on the bed, letting his hand drift over your exposed thigh, the touch light but electric.
“Fuck, Jake.” You expressed your thoughts, feeling the pleasure pulsing under your skin and throughout your entire body.
“Look at me, baby.” He said, wanting you to open your eyes. You did as he said, catching the warm brown of his irises and feeling the warmth flood you. Your breath caught in your throat, and your muscles constricted. You were so close, and him looking at you in such a way made it all the more intense. “Let go,” he hummed, giving you a smile. His eyes were heavy and his chest was heaving with every breath. “Come for me, Angel.” And you did, your limbs trembling as the pleasure took hold. You’d never felt like that in your entire life, and it was so intense that it made your head spin and your chest burn. You didn’t think it was possible to feel such a way, but as you looked into Jake’s eyes, you knew it was all because of him. “That’s my girl.” He sighed, leaning down and pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh.
The feeling made you melt into his touch, his lips so delicate against your warm skin. You wanted more; suddenly, your own hand wasn’t enough. You needed him to do it for you, to feel what it was like when he touched you. You reached down, cupping his cheek in your hand as you let your thumb drift over his cheek. He hummed against you, still focused on the feeling of your thigh against his mouth. The longer he left them there, kissing a trail upwards, the sloppier he became. He sucked light marks into the delicate skin as his hand found your hip, pulling you down on the mattress towards him. He wanted you to feel admired, to know how strongly he felt for you. He wanted you to know that the situation did not have to be scary, and he only wanted to make you feel good. He was there for you, and his pleasure came second to all of your needs.
You watched him as he did all he could to showcase his admiration. You were still aching to be touched, the orgasm you had given yourself long gone and barely enough to keep you satisfied. You needed to feel him, you needed him to bring you to such pleasure, and you couldn’t believe you waited so long to feel him like this.
“Are you okay with this, baby?” He asked, looking up to you with his eyes nearly closed from the weight of lust in his stare.
“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “I’m… I'm okay.”
“You tell me if you need me or want me to stop, okay?” He ordered, settling on his stomach between your legs. “Even if you just want me to slow down… I need you to tell me, sweetheart. Can you do that?” You hummed a response of agreement, but he didn’t move any further. “I need to hear the words, honey.”
“I will, Jake. I promise.” He gave you a soft smile, looking over your face to search for any discomfort. When he saw only excitement, he brought his own hand between your legs. Carefully, he brought his fingers to you, gathering your arousal on his fingers before bringing them to your clit. The feeling was foreign, but as soon as his fingers landed on the sensitive bundle of nerves, the unfamiliarity quickly became obsolete. His rough, calloused fingertips moved slowly over you as his eyes stayed on your face. It was immediately pleasant, way more so than your own hands doing the work.
“How’s that, Angel?” He hummed, his eyes flickering down to his hand that was working at you. His mouth watered from the sight, but he held himself back from going any further until you were comfortable.
“S-so good.” You whined, looking down at his face. The sight of his eyes fixated on your cunt made your stomach burn with desire. All of the fear you felt before was gone; you should have known better than to think Jake would view you as anything other than gorgeous.
“You want me to keep going?” He asked, looking back up at you.
“Yes, please.” You breathed, nodding at him. He gave you a smile, adding a little more pressure to his thumb. The sensation caused you to move your hips down on his hand, searching for more. He kept the pace for a moment, before sliding his thumb in place of his middle finger. He rested his middle and index finger against your entrance, waiting to see your reaction before doing anything else.
“Is this okay?”
“G-god, yes.” You nodded, still sensitive from your first orgasm. Everything he was doing felt fantastic, and you never wanted him to stop. Before going any further, he leaned forward and let a trail of spit fall from his lips to his fingers, making sure that it wouldn’t be uncomfortable for you. You watched, feeling a flutter of emotion rush to your core at the sight. He gave you a small smirk, noticing the reaction. Slowly, he added one finger first, wanting you to grow comfortable with the feeling before going any further. Once he knew you were alright, he added a second.
“There you go, beautiful.” He smiled, noticing your eyebrows furrow with pleasure as a moan fell from your lips. Gently, he pumped his fingers into you a few times, spitting on his hand once again to lubricate them further. “God, you have no idea how much I thought about doing this.” He muttered, more to himself than you.
“Y-you… you think about this?” You asked, your cheeks turning red at the thought.
“Think about it?” He nearly scoffed. “Baby, I dream about it.” He corrected, curling his fingers upwards slightly as his thumb brushed over your clit. You let out a sharp breath, the feeling unfamiliar but incredibly pleasant. “I think about making you feel good, and about how pretty I knew you would look while you cum…” he trailed off, driving himself crazy at his own words. “About how good you’d taste, and how good you’d feel…” he cut himself off, realizing he might be too obscene for you at the moment. You looked down at him, almost as if you were pleading with him to keep going. The knowledge that he thought about you the same way you thought about him made your heart skip a beat. “How good you’d feel wrapped around my cock.” He finished, stronger and more confident. He could feel your walls clench around his finger at the sound of his words.
“I think about you, too, Jake.” You confessed, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back on the pillow. The pleasure was more intense than anything you’d felt before, and his words were making it all the more satisfying.
“Yeah? You think about me touching you like this?” He paused his thoughts, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Such a dirty little thing.” He teased, smiling up at your blushed face. “I love it.” He made sure that you knew that more than anything else. “How does this feel, gorgeous?”
“It feels so good, Jake.” You assure him, hoping that he won’t stop.
“Can I try something?” He asks, leaning down and pressing a few more kisses into your thighs.
“Y-yeah, okay.” You nod, unsure of what he had in mind, but trusting him more than anything.
“M’gonna use my mouth, okay?” He said, scanning your face. “Is that alright?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, excited at the prospect.
“Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay Angel?”
“Okay.” You nod, your eyes fixated on him as he moved closer to your heat. He moved his thumb from your clit, but you barely have time to mourn the loss before his mouth was on you and his tongue was doing the work, instead. “Oh, fuck.” You whine, reaching down and tangling your hand in his hair. The feeling was more intense, and definitely more powerful. The warmth of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue was like heaven, and so unlike anything you’d felt before. He barely started and you could feel your walls fluttering against his fingers. You were bordering another orgasm, and you weren’t sure how much you could take before you let go.
His tongue moved carefully, but with intent. It drifted over your clit, savoring any bit of arousal still left on you. His eyes were closed as his hips moved down on the mattress, the friction barely relieving the ache of his cock, but making it a little more bearable. Your breathing was shallow, and the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair was driving him crazy. He pumped his fingers into you as his tongue worked at you, curling his fingers slightly every time he re-entered. The different types of stimulation was not overwhelming, but just enough as they worked together to push you to the edge.
“Fuck, Jake.” You whined. He hummed against you, showing you how much he was enjoying the sound. The vibration ran through you, tightening the knot in your stomach. You were so close, and your skin was tingling with pleasure. “I think… think m’gonna cum, baby.” You warned. He did not pull away, instead he made his movements more pronounced, needing it more than he needed anything more in his entire life. Your mind was flooded with desire for him, and you could only whimper his name.
He was making you feel better than you ever had before, and you were so in love with him at that moment. You couldn’t think of anyone else you’d rather be doing this with, and you felt so comfortable and loved. He adored you, and he was coaxing you so gently to a climax that it was hard to feel any fear or anxiety about it. He was so gentle and kind, his touch soft and his words sweet. He wanted you to get the most out of it, and more than anything, he wanted to make your first time special. He waited so long for this moment, and now that it was here, he was doing everything in his power to make sure you enjoyed it.
The orgasm washed over you hard, making your legs shake and your eyes squeeze shut. Your fingers tightened around the stands of his hair, and you moaned his name as the pleasure took over. The obscenities falling from your lips painted the walls, burying the memory in the room until the end of time. You felt so good that you forgot how to breathe, and your head felt light. As the intensity died down and you relaxed against him, he began to taper his movements off until he came to a complete stop. As you caught your breath, he pulled back from you and looked up at your face. His eyes were heavy, and lust was hanging thick in the air. He needed you, and he did not have to say it aloud; you could feel it.
As he straightened up, his chin was glistening in the dim light, your orgasm lingering on his skin to remind you of the moment. “How was that, beautiful?” He asked, his voice husky. Your mind was still hazy as you admired his face, watching as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.
“So, so good, baby.” You sighed, giving him a lazy smile.
“You want to keep going?” He asked, standing from the bed. You admired him, shirtless and standing over you. Your head was swimming with joy and your skin was ablaze with desire for him. You made it this far, and you wanted to go all the way. You were more than ready to take the step with him, especially after he was so caring and loving with you just moments before.
“Yes, please.” You whisper, giving him a smile. He returned the expression, slowly undoing his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops. His discarded it on the floor, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You felt like you were holding your breath as you waited for him to undress, feeling excitement begin to build within you. He slipped out of his jeans, kicking them to the side. Then, he looked at you, making sure you were okay before he took off his boxers. He saw the admiration in your eyes, and it made his stomach flutter with adoration.
“You want me, sweet girl?” He whispered, his jaw tense as he watched you look at him in wonder.
“Yes, please.” You nod, waiting for him to advance further. He gave you a soft smile, pulling off his boxers and throwing them to the side. When he straightened up, your breath caught in your throat. He was stunning. The discreet toned muscles in his abdomen that were so often hidden by clothes took your breath away. The soft v-line leaning down from his hips was delicious, and you could feel the arousal begin to grow once more. When he stepped closer, the light seemed to shine on him a little more. You could see all of him, and he was breathtaking.
His cock was painfully hard, the tip red and glistening with pre-cum, and it was so enticing. Seeing all of him was something so special, and you almost regretted not doing it sooner. He kneeled before you on the bed, settling between your legs as he smiled down at you. “Hi, gorgeous.” He hummed, his expression sweet and his eyes showing you nothing but love.
“Hi,” you grinned, feeling excitement overtake all of the anxiety. He reached to the other side of the bed, grabbing a pillow.
“Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.” He said. You did as he told you, and he slid the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a little more comfortable.” He promised, leaning down and bracing his arm beside your head. He gave you a stupid smile that told you how enthusiastic he was. You couldn’t help but smile back, finding his joy infectious. He leaned a little further down, capturing you in a kiss. You melted into the feeling, so relieved at the comfortable and familiar feeling after so many new sensations. You closed your eyes, cupping his cheek in your hand to hold him to you. You wanted to live in the moment with him forever.
He didn’t rush you, kissing you softly for as long as you needed. It was messy, but it was beautiful. His teeth pulled your bottom lip between them, teasing you slightly. You smiled against him, finding the playfulness soothing. “I love you, Jake.” You mumble against his lips.
“I love you so much, Angel.” He whispers, looking down over your face. “I think you’re the most beautiful thing in the whole world, you know that right?” Your cheeks burn red, but you can’t hold back your smile. “You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m so lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have you.” You sigh, your chest aching with the amount of love you have for him.
“Thank you for trusting me, y/n.” His voice is full of emotion now. The lust took the back burner, second to his love and appreciation for you.
“Thank you for being someone I can trust.” He smiled at your words, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours once more.
“Are you ready? If not, I can wait.” He assured you.
“I am.” You promised. “I’m ready.” He gave you another kiss, biting back another smile. He felt giddy with you, like it was his first time again, too. The strength in which he felt for you nearly brought him to his knees. He leaned back, looking down over your body with a look on his eyes you weren’t sure he’d ever seen before. It was so full of emotion that it made your stomach twist into knots. He spit into his hand, stroking himself before lining himself up with your entrance. He looked to you for approval, and you gave a slight nod of your head.
“It might be a little uncomfortable, so just tell me if it is, okay? Just want you to feel good, baby.”
“I will.” His concern with your pleasure was driving you crazy. He guided your legs around him and waited for a moment, giving you the chance to change your mind. When you said nothing, he slowly pushed himself inside of you.
The feeling was different, but not unpleasant. It took a moment to get used to it as he fully buried himself in you. He paused before moving any further, looking to see if you were okay. You couldn’t help but notice how full you felt, how well he fit with you, and how right it felt. You caught his eye, letting out a little sigh of satisfaction. The small sound nearly pushed him over the edge as he sat, completely still inside of you. His cock twitched slightly, the knowledge that you were enjoying him sending him feral.
“You want to wait, or do you want me to keep going?”
“Keep going, please.” You breathed, wanting more. He gave you a small smile, moving his hips ever so slightly. You tended slightly, adjusting to the feeling, but as he continued, it began to grow more comfortable. Soon after, prickles of pleasure started to ignite your skin. “Oh, Jake.” You sigh, letting your head fall back on the pillow. “That feels… so good.” His jaw clenched at your words, thrilled at your enjoyment.
“Yeah? You like it, baby?” He asked, reaching down and letting his fingers dust over your bare stomach. They trailed all the way to your chest as he cupped your breast in his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His thumb toyed with your nipple, the small sensation sending a shiver down your spine.
“I do,” you breathe, nodding your head.
“So fucking tight,” he muttered to himself. “You feel so fucking good, angel. Doing so good for me.” Your walls clenched around him as he spoke, drawing him in further. He wasn’t moving very fast, but the feeling was more than enough. It was exactly what you’d been waiting for, even if you didn’t realize it before. Slowly, he began to pick up the pace, unable to hold himself back any longer. “Tell me if you need me to slow down, baby.”
“I will,” you moaned, feeling the intensity begin to build in your belly again. “God, Jake. F-faster, please.” You pleaded. He let out a groan, resembling more of a growl than anything else. He grabbed your hips, pulling you down towards him a little further. His thrusts sped, and he put a little more force behind his movements. He looked down, watching how your bodies fit together, feeling a whole new sense of desire as your hips met his with every thrust.
“You’re so fucking hot.” He groaned, leaning down and pulling you into a kiss. He’d waited so long to feel you like this, and he was afraid he might not be able to hold himself back.
“Fuck, Jake.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. His hands on your hips felt so good, his fingers burning into you in the most intoxicating way. You felt better than you ever did before, and you never wanted to stop feeling that way. He was so enchanting, and everything he was doing was euphoric. You felt like you were melting into him, both of you becoming one as the fire burned in your hearts.
“Need you to cum for me one more time, angel. Just one more.” He pleaded, pulling you down on him as he thrusted into you. The angle he was hitting was intoxicating, pulling you in further with every move of his hips. His lips met your again in a heated kiss, your chests heaving as the intensity continued to consume you. Your stomach was twisted in knots and your forehead was glistening with sweat. Your whole body felt like it was ablaze with pleasure, and you needed more than he could give.
He pulled back from you, his hips still keeping a steady pace as his hand reached between you, circling around your clit once again. The second sensation to hold with a fervent appetite, consuming you entirely and making it impossible to think of anything else. His fingers on you and his cock filling you up was pushing you to euphoria, and your vision began to blur. Your mind was hazy as you tried to focus on his face, wondering how you got so lucky to be with someone so beautiful.
“You think you can give me one more, beautiful?” He asked, his voice shaking as he spoke. He was holding himself back to make sure you were pleased, but the idea of him being such a mess for you was driving you even closer to insanity. The most pleasurable part of the whole thing was knowing how good he felt, and how much he loved pleasing you.
“Y-yeah,” you managed a nod, looking up at him with desperate eyes. Your muscles were tightening as you tensed, preparing for the wave of pleasure about to wash over you. The burning in the pit of your stomach was familiar now, and you knew that he was the only one who knew how to get you there.
“Cum for me, baby.” He said, his thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with precision. Your legs locked around him began to tremble, and your breathing was ragged. You were so close, and you needed it. More than that, you needed him to cum at the same time.
“Cum with me, please.” You pleaded, admiring the look of pleasure twisting his expression. He let out a groan at your words, his eyebrows knitting together as his hair hung down over his face. You’d never seen Jake look so ethereal before, and it was driving you mad.
“That’s what you want, angel? That will make you happy?”
“Please, Jake.” You said, reaching up and clasping your fingers around his bicep.
“Anything for my girl,” he muttered, his head falling back as he let out a string of curses. He even made the obscenities sound beautiful. You watched as the columns of his neck tightened and his Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, sweat dripping delicately down across his skin. Strands of hair stuck to the damp skin, framing him in a picture you wished to burn into your mind until the end of time.
The climax hit you hard, and you clenched around him, crying his name as you felt the pleasure fill you completely. He didn’t have time to nurture you through it, because at the same time, his orgasm washed over him. As you rode out the high, his hips stuttered and a breathy moan fell from his lips. He spilled his release inside of you, the feeling so addicting that it forced you into another wave of pleasure. Heavy breathing was the only sound in the room, and after the intensity began to fade, Jake leaned down and wrapped you in his arms. Without withdrawing from you, he turned on his back and pulled you on top of him. With a giggle, you landed comfortably in his arms with a smile so wide it made your cheeks ache.
You rested your head on his chest, your skin still tingling with the ghost of your orgasm. You placed a kiss to the skin, feeling his heart thud against his ribcage. His hand trailed down your back, his fingers tickling you slightly as he traced shapes into your skin. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you didn’t need to; the whole world felt perfect.
“How was that, angel?” He asked, reaching up and tucking your hair behind your ear. You grinned down at him, unable to put your thoughts into words. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great, Jake.” You assured him, leaning into the touch of his hand.
“You’re not hurt, are you? I wasn’t too rough?” His hand shot to your hip as he looked down, trying to see if he left any marks on you. He was panicking, worried that he hadn’t taken good enough care of you. The last thing he wanted was for you to be in pain.
“It was perfect, my love. It was better than I could have ever imagined.” You promised, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on his lips. He relaxed against you, feeling better at the sound of your words.
“So… it was good? You… you liked it?” He said, his own nerves getting the best of him. You could feel him start to go soft inside of you, but neither of you cared to move. You laid together, smiling in bliss at the moment.
“It was phenomenal… I had a fantastic time.” You said, blushing slightly. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me for anything, beautiful.” He pulled your head down so he could place a kiss to your forehead. “It was my pleasure.”
“I do, though. Thank you for being patient, and thank you for caring enough to wait it out. And… thank you for making my first time so special. I’ve always been kind of… afraid, I guess, and you made it so easy.”
“I’m glad I could do that for you, angel. You’re my biggest priority, and I just want to make sure you’re happy and comfortable, and I want you to have a good time.”
“I had such a good time.” You smiled, laying your head on his chest again. “Do you… you think maybe we can do it again, soon?” His grip tightened on you as he let out a small chuckle.
“Sweetheart, we can do it whenever you want. All you have to do is say the word.” He promised.
“I love you so much, Jake.” You whisper, pressing another kiss to his chest with a smile on your lips.
“You have no idea how much I love you, sweetheart.” He said, kissing the top of your head. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”
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Also where does he get the nerve
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Lay All Your Love On Me Chapter 8- On the Edge
Jake Kiszka x Reader and Josh Kiszka x Reader
Word Count: 8.9k
TAGLIST
AN: Hi everyone! Here is the eighth chapter of Lay All Your Love On Me from me and @mar-rein12! This is a CRAZYYYY one. We will be compensating for everyone's therapy for this chapter and the next. Enjoy the eighth chapter, On the Edge.
Warnings: 18+, SMUT: Oral (M receiving), Sexting, Degradation, praise, SUBBBBB JAKE...., Dom reader, Cum play, Edging, Phone Sex
Vomit
Oh fuck. It felt like you couldn’t get out of your bed fast enough, you just barely got to the bathroom fast enough before releasing your regrets of last night into the toilet. Ughhh. You wipe your face with toilet paper, feeling a sudden wave of relief. Last night was something. Something you slightly forget, but also don’t. Ew. You walk over to the sink to rinse your mouth out with water and give them a quick brush before going back to bed.
When you wake up again, you roll over to your phone to check the time. 12:14pm. Not too bad for only having one class today. You saw a few messages on your phone but first a message from the GroupMe the musical uses to communicate.
9:47am Dr.Coleman: Hello everyone. Due to unforeseen events, practice will be canceled for today. Although, I can not force you to do anything I would highly recommend reading over your parts because we will be doing a full walk through sometime next week. I know it may seem early but we have to be prepared. See you All on Monday. Have a good weekend!
“Yessss.” You flop right back onto your bed and text Josh.
12:17pm y/n: I’m so happy we don’t have practice. What time did you wanna call tonight so I can make sure I’m free?
12:20pm Josh: Is 11 okay?
12:22pm y/n: Sounds good, my last class is done at 5 so I’ll get dinner with my friends and chill til then.
12:23pm Josh: I can’t wait, beautiful, I’ll be thinking about you 😘
You really liked this side of Josh, it gave you butterflies in your stomach. He was being so sweet to you, but you’d be met with completely different texts from his other half.
Holy shit. The texts that you received from Jake last night were far from being sweet and innocent.
1:37am Jake: Fuck y/n, you’re a dirty fucking slut. Grabbing yourself like that. Trying to lick yourself, I can do that for you baby. I’ll please you.
1:39am Jake: God you make me wanna touch myself. You bring out a different side of me. You take control of me, make me wanna do disgusting things. I bet you like that though.
1:40am Jake: I’m going to make good use of that pretty mouth tomorrow. You understand that? You're my dirty little secret, and I’m gonna get all the use out of you until this comes to an end. Just like these slutty pictures and videos you sent.
1:51am Jake: 1 Attachment: 1 Video 1:51am Jake: Fuck baby, you make me a mess. You see what you do to me, you make me cum so fucking hard. I wish your mouth was around my cock. That's what I think about, those beautiful lips of yours wrapped around my fat cock. Choking and gagging you, while I’m so deep down your throat.
1:52am Jake: I wish I could see your perfect tits as much as my fucking brother. It's not fair that he gets to see them just because he’s casted as your ‘love interest.’ If I knew it would be like that, I would have tried out.
He was really going through it last night, but what did he mean by ‘using that pretty mouth tomorrow?’
12:31pm y/n: Looks like you had a pretty late night, did you miss me?
12:33pm Jake: I did, but you seemed to have an eventful night too. I saw your private story. You looked drunk off your ass, how much did you drink?
12:35pm y/n: 2 shots of vodka, Long Island iced tea, Strawberry Daiquiri, Corona, maybe something else Idk. I kinda forgot honestly.
12:39pm Jake: What the fuck, how in the hell did you not get alcohol poisoning?!
12:41pm y/n: My body is immune I guess. I’m fucking feeling it this morning though, trust me. Now let me ask you a question. When you said ‘I’m going to make good use of that pretty mouth tomorrow,’ was that an in the moment thing or…
12:43pm Jake: Wouldn’t you like to know. Just keep your phone nearby today during class. See you later darling😘.
What the fuck does that mean. You decide to try your best to ignore it, getting ready for your day as usual. Even though you were doing the utmost to shake it from your brain, Jake was still lingering in the back of it.
You’re bored out of your mind, sitting there in your free elective, Introduction to Ethics. You completely regret taking this course, even though you heard it was an easy A. You thought about what would be happening this weekend, you were a little stressed. Hanging out with Josh and staying over at his apartment is one thing. But knowing Jake would also be there was stress inducing.
You were zoning out, only catching glimpses of the professor’s lesson. The boy next to you was very focused and interested, two things you were not. You glance over at him very unsubtly, taking a quick peek at his notes. His paper is almost completely filled up, whereas yours is still absolutely blank. His gaze catches your eye and he takes a look down at your notebook. He notices the empty page and lightly pushes his notebook over to you, allowing you to snap a quick photo.
“Thank you, I owe you one,” you send him a flirty wink.
He looks down at his paper, blush forming across his pale, freckled cheeks. “Anytime and if you need help with anything I can always be your tutor.” He pulls his notebook back and begins to scribble on it again.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smirk at him. You were in fact not going to be keeping that in mind because the class was easy as fuck. You just didn’t find the subject interesting enough for you to care. You didn't care about moral relativism or utilitarianism, you just wanted to get out of the class.
You feel a vibration from under your thigh where your phone was located. You reach under and grab it, checking the notifications.
4:17pm Jake: Where are you?
4:18pm y/n: In class
4:18pm Jake: No shit, what building are you in?
4:19pm y/n: I’m in Angell, room 2224
4:20pm Jake: Okay, I’m on my way.
Why is he coming to my class? You were beyond confused, but since you were on your phone you decided to do some mindless scrolling through instagram. A few minutes later, another text comes through.
4:28pm Jake: Come outside the classroom, bring your stuff.
4:29pm y/n: Why?
4:29pm Jake: Stop fucking questioning me and get your ass outside.
You gather your things and quietly slip out the door. Your professor sends a little wave and a smile as you walk out the door, you reciprocate the gesture.
As you step out of the classroom you look left to see no one, then right to see Jake sitting on the cushioned chairs outside the classroom. When he looks up from his phone he stands and darts to the right making his way down the hall. You follow behind not knowing where he is going.
“Jake, where are you going?” Your legs pick up the pace. “If you're gonna make me leave class, at least have a reason.”
He stops suddenly, turning towards you grabbing your wrist. “I said stop asking fucking questions or else.” He throws your wrist back down and restarts his mission.
“Or what, Jake? You can’t do anything out here.” You boldly snap back at him.
“You're right, I can’t.” He grabs your wrist once more and drags you quickly to a specific classroom. When he pulls you inside you can barely see a thing. There are no windows, just a cement room, with a single skylight lighting the middle of the tiny classroom. You hear the sound of the door locking as he stands in front of it.
“Get on your knees.” You hesitate, everything happening so fast. “I said get on your fucking knees y/n, or are you deaf?” His aggressiveness takes you back a bit. You shrug your backpack off, then slowly make your way onto your knees.
“I’m gonna say it once, what you did last night was slutty. Teasing me with that fucking video knowing I couldn’t do anything about it other than touch myself. So you're gonna pay me back and use your mouth the way it should be used, sucking my cock. Not trying to suck your own tits, got it?”
“Oh! So, that’s what this is?” You push him back against the door, slowly begin to unbuckle his pants. “Poor Jakey just needs his cock sucked? You’re just so desperate for a blowjob that you use my video from last night as an excuse to get one. You know I could have been sucking some other guys dick last night.” You pull his boxers down releasing his cock, slapping against his stomach. “Does that make you mad, knowing my lips could have been wrapped around some other guy's cock, not having to keep it a secret.” You press light kisses onto his throbbing tip. “So fucking horny for me baby, so I will suck you off, but tell me why you actually want me here.”
He looks down to you, completely in awe. “I needed you baby. That video you sent me last night was so fucking hot. I just need you to suck my cock, please, I’m begging.”
You teasingly lick a stripe up the underside of his dick, not making any moves to go further.
“You're gonna have to beg a lot more Jakey, you think you’re in charge here but you’re not, and I’ll tease you as long as I want until I think you’ve earned it.” Placing a few more kisses down his cock.
“Please baby, I’m so fucking desperate for you. I cum just thinking about you at night, thats how fucking bad I need this. All I’ve ever wanted was your lips wrapped around my cock. I hear people talk about it and it makes me want it even more. Making the excuse is all I could think of to get you to suck me off because I didn’t wanna beg, but I will. Please y/n, I’m so fucking horny for you I need this.” He looks down to you with begging eyes.
“Such a good boy, Jakey.” You say as you once again take his cock into your hand. You hear him whimper slightly under his breath. “Does someone like being called that? You put up this dominant front, but you're just a little bitch who wants to be told what to do. Isn’t that right?’
Another whimper escapes his lips, solidifying the fact that yes he did enjoy being called ‘a good boy’.
“Tell me what you think about baby, tell me all the things you think about alone when you're jerking off. If you stop, I'm gonna leave you to finish it yourself.” You fire at him, you feel your own wetness beginning to pool in your panties.
Jake’s POV
Fuck. You almost came just from that alone. This is everything you’ve ever wanted. Since freshman year, you had it bad for her. Hearing what she did to all those other guys made your blood boil. But now it's your turn. You were her bitch and you couldn’t give one shit.
“Please y/n I’m so desperate I’ll tell you anything.” You can’t help but be a submissive mess for her, she just has such a fucking hold on you.
“So tell me Jakey, how long have you been thinking about me when you touch yourself, and what you think about.” She takes your cock all the way into her mouth, pulling it back out, sending your head against the door. “Oh and Jake…” You look down on her. “No cumming til I say so, got it?”
“Fuck- anything for you, darling, anything,” You whine out as she bobs her head up and down, slowly, on your throbbing cock.
She looks up to you with her big doe eyes, waiting for you to start talking.
“Oh fuck, um, the first time I saw you, you were all- all I could think about.” You struggle to get any of your sentences out, as she resumes her painfully slow bobbing on your dick.
“I would look at your insta all the time. I would think about what it would be like to get with you. I would purposefully go to the dining hall when I knew you’d be there, oh fuck, just to get a good look at you.” Your breathing picked up as soon as y/n started humming around your cock, inducing an unholy moan to release from your throat. “Once it started getting around to the school that you were just sleeping around I was pissed, not at you, but at the guys you got with. I wanted- fuck- I wanted nothing more than to be one of those guys.” She picks up the pace on your cock, making you close to losing it. “And since I couldn’t be one of those guys, I thought about what it would be like.”
You shut your mouth, trying your very best to stop your moans from slipping past your lips. You’re silent for a few minutes as she continues to work on your cock, but after noticing the silence she pulls away.
“Are you scared someones gonna hear baby, isn’t this what you wanted? You wanted to let everyone know that I sucked your thick cock. That’s all you’ve ever wanted, so enjoy it baby. Savor it. Or else you're not cumming, at least not from me, you can do it yourself. Slut.” She was spurring you on, bringing you even closer to orgasm.
You watch her intently as your hands travel to the shoulders of her shirt, balling them up in the palms of your hands. She slows down and pulls her mouth off slowly, leaving a string of saliva hanging from her lips connecting her to your dick. “You want this off Jakey?” She says grabbing at her shirt. You nod frantically, your eyes fully concentrated on her. “All you have to do is ask, tell me what you want.”
“Please y/n take off your shirt, let me see your perfect tits.” She smiles back up to you. Her hands grab at the hem of her shirt, swiftly pulling it over her head, leaving her in nothing but a little baby blue mesh bra. It wasn’t covering much, because you could fully see her nipples through it. “Please baby, can I take it off. I wanna see everything. Wanna see your pretty tits” She nods, your hand trailing behind her back, clipping it off her and letting it fall to the ground.
“Such a slutty man, I like that.” She brings her hand near her mouth before spitting into it, and pumping your cock. “Now tell me what you think about Jake, you know… when you're jerking yourself off to me like a fucking whore.” She’s gonna be the death of you.
“I think about a moment just like this, you sucking my cock. Most of the times I finish in your mouth and you swallow it, but other times I- fuck- I cum on your tits.”
She smiles up at you with a malicious look on her face. “I like that idea, wanna make that happen right now.”
“Ughhh fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum.” Your hand goes to her head, pushing her mouth back down around your cock. “Please let me cum baby I’m so close.” Her head bobs up faster and faster.
She pulls back for a moment and continues jerking you off. “Cum for me Jakey, show me how much of a good boy you are. Come on, cum all over my tits Jake, fulfill that fantasy, you dirty little slut.” With a few more pumps you're on the edge and can’t take it any longer. You release all over her tits along with screaming her name.
“Fuck y/n… Holy shit baby. You’re fucking perfect.” You say as you’re panting for air.
She looks up to you while her fingers go to her tits, gathering as much cum as she can get before sucking it off her fingers, continuing her deep eye contact.
“You’re a fucking maniac. You make me wanna tell everyone about you, I want you so bad.” She begins to stand up wrapping her bra back on her.
“You wish, Jakey.” She grabs her shirt pulling it back over her head. “Hopefully that’ll hold you over, and give you something new to think about. See you soon.” She sends a wink your way as she grabs her bag and makes her way back out the door she just came from.
Wait- what the fuck just happened?
-
y/n’s POV
As you make the grueling walk back to your dorm you take a moment to reflect on your actions of today. If someone had told you a month ago that you’d just finished sucking off Jake Kiszka in an empty classroom, you’d never believe them. Especially a begging submissive one, but I guess that’s just the effect you have on people.
As you open the door you’re met by Charlotte sitting on the couch staring at you like a parent waiting for their child to come home from a late party. She sat there with her arms crossed as if she was sitting there for a while just waiting for you to walk in. She glares at you as you drop your backpack off at the door.
“Where were you?” She questions beginning to cross her legs.
“In class?” You give her a weird look. Why is she interrogating you?
“Wellllll, you are late getting home. You usually get back around 5:15ish, it's 5:47, why so late.”
“Why are you acting like the police? It just took me longer to get back today, that's all.” You begin to walk back to your room, but Charlotte follows quickly behind you.
“Well that’s what I’d normally expect, but Sierra told me you left class early today, and she wondered if you went home because you were sick. So I just wanna know where you were.” She raises an eyebrow at you.
Shit.
“Well, I wasn’t feeling good so I went to the bathroom, I threw up a little.” You’re quick to defend yourself, hoping she won’t see through your lies.
“Makes sense. I know you like giving head, but I didn’t think that meant you’d start throwing up cum, you know since it’s dried up around your mouth.” You quickly look in the mirror. There it was a little patch of dried cum right in the corner of your mouth, definitely not one of your best moments.
“And not to play investigator but I went onto snap maps and saw that Josh was on the other side of campus, so who were you with y/n? Oh wait, I actually know because I saw you and another familiar bitmoji in a random classroom. So how long have you been fucking Jake Kiszka?” Charlotte shot you a knowing look, as you sigh in defeat.
“Ugh fine. We fucked ONCE, okay? Just one time. It was nothing serious.” You shrug it off as if it was nothing. Charlotte’s eyes widen, and you feel a pang of guilt sharpen in your chest. “Plus it’s not like Josh and I were a thing. That was all after he stormed off about being friendzoned.”
“Oh my fucking God. Does Josh know?” She questions you, you could tell she felt a little hurt that you’d kept such a thing from her. You usually tell each other everything.
“Umm, not really. So, you CAN NOT tell him, understand?” You were practically begging her, you couldn’t risk Josh finding out.
“You know I can’t lie.” She says with her puppy dog eyes.
You sigh, “I know Char but you need to not say anything. Okay? Don’t be around him, avoid him.”
“Okay I’ll try, so you guys just fucked in that classroom?”
Now realizing there is more to the story and you have exposed yourself you decide to come clean.
“Well not technically…”
“But you said you only did it once… OMG. y/n. It has happened more than once. When?”
I’m going to hell.
“Umm, the night I went to apologize to Josh.” You avert your eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact. You were embarrassed and ashamed.
“HOLY SHIT y/n.”
“I know, I know it sounds bad, but when I went over he wasn’t there. But Jake was, and he comforted me. And then he fucked me, like it was crazy.” You put your forehead in the palm of your hands,realizing everything you just said. “OMG Char! Wait, never mind its TMI.”
“NOPE share you shouldn’t have brought it up if you didn’t want me to know the details.” She smirks at you with her pink lips.
“I don’t know how else to say this then just say it so, he made me squirt.”
“OMG OMG WHAT. This is actually crazy y/n. You should be telling everyone this.”
“No that's the thing, this whole thing is a secret. You weren’t supposed to know. While Josh and I aren’t dating it would kill him to know I fucked his brother, you can not tell anyone. None of my friends, none of yours, don’t even think about it okay? After this conversation it never gets brought up ever again.” You stick your pinky out to her, waiting for her to reciprocate the action.
She can tell this is stressing you, so without a fight she sticks out, sealing the pinky promise. “Just one more question and then I’ll never mention it again. I promise, pinky promise.”
You roll your eyes, “What Char.”
“What did you actually do in that classroom today, then?” She was on the edge of her seat.
“I sucked him off, it was crazy Char. You're not gonna believe this when I tell you. But he was begging, and whimpering, it was insane. He was so submissive. I never pictured him to act that way”
Her jaw opens, not being able to hide her reaction. “And I found out that he 's liked me since freshman year and that he jerks off thinking about me. He spilled so much about what he was thinking about, it was foul.”
Her mouth turns into a huge open mouth smile. “OMG, Jake Kiszka being a sub is not what I had on my spring semester bingo card. Did he call you mommy?”
“OMG nooooo. N-no, he didn't.” You were a little flustered after picturing him saying it in your mind.
“Would you let him?”
“Um, I-I don't know. Need any more details about my sex life?” You joke to her.
“I just wish my life was this interesting, I’m living vicariously through my sweet y/n.” She smirks at you and playfully shoves your shoulder. You roll your eyes at her, a chuckle passing through your lips.
“I’m just saying I haven't gotten any action in a while. Whenever you and Jake are done just pass him over my way.” Charlotte winks at you and turns to exit your room. You sigh and collapse onto your bed.
Why did things have to be so complicated? Why did you have to have feelings for the Kiszka twins? You were so confused, and quite frankly didn’t know where to go from here.
You loved the thrill you got when you were with Jake, the unpredictability and excitement was all consuming in his presence. Whereas with Josh he was so sweet and a charmer, for sure. The Sun and the Moon. The light and the dark. And with each day passing by, you didn’t know if you were more eager for the light to slowly creep in or the darkness to encompass you.
The evening was boring up until dinner. You laid in bed, did some homework and watched a few episodes of Victorious with Char out in the living room. While in the middle of an episode you and Charlotte get a text from your groupchat.
7:18pm Ari: Wanna walk the track after dinner, have a little yap sesh?
Char looks to you for an answer, not wanting to make the decision herself. You nod and reply back.
7:18pm y/n: Yes def.
You make your way back to your room and grab a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt. You slipped on your Hokas and pulled your hair into a slick back ponytail. It had been a while since you ran and were looking forward to it. The musical has taken up most of your time so having time for your physical health would be nice.
Making your way to dinner, you and Char meet up with Ari and Mae, spending your time like you always do, ranting about your day and anything else on your mind. But the track was for gossip. What is said on the track stays on the track.
You take the first 30 minutes to run, pacing yourself and taking your breaks as needed. It had been a while so you were a little rough around the edges. After the first thirty you catch up to the group and join in on the convo.
“He’s actually so attractive though, like in a dilf-y way.” Char says.
“How old is he Char?” Ari asks, not knowing if she really wanted to know the answer.
“I don’t know, maybe like 50 something. He’s beekeeping age. OMG he actually keeps bees, that's so funny.” Char says giggling and twirling her hair around her finger.
“Char, have you ever heard of the term bimbo?” Mae asks sweetly.
“Um I don’t think so, what does it mean?” Char innocently questions.
“Doesn’t matter, just know you are one in the best way possible. You’re just so cute.” Mae replies.
Char smiles and keeps on walking with pep in her step. She's adorable.
“So y/n, are you gonna see Josh soon?”
“I am actually. I’m going to be calling him tonight to work on some musical stuff and tomorrow he’s taking me out somewhere.” You state.
“So a date? I thought you guys were just friends.” Char probes. You’re hoping and praying she does not bring up the things that went down between you and his twin.
“We are just friends.” You say sternly. “I’m sure it’ll be something casual, but I’m also hoping it’s somewhere nice. You know they have money to spend.”
“Maybe you’ll stay the night at his place. You’ll be able to see Josh and Jake.” She sends you a devious wink.
Are you serious Char? You shoot her a glare, telling her to knock it off. She catches your drift.
“But I’m sure you don’t wanna see Jake, I would want to though.” Char says with a smirk.
“Well you can have him Char. Maybe I’ll ask if he is looking for a cute ginger girl.” You joke around with her.
Deep down, you wanted Jake all to yourself and you couldn’t help but think he'd want the same. You know how bad he wants you, and knowing that makes you want him more. But there’s Josh. You couldn’t ruin your friendship with him, or did you want something more than just that too? It was all very confusing. But you knew at some point a decision would have to be made, but now was not the time for that.
“Omg I would be perfect for that position.” She says all giddy. Everyone rolls her eyes and laughs about her comments, she truly is a bimbo.
After walking for an hour, Mae somehow convinces everyone to hit legs. You didn’t mind though, you liked the way it made your body feel. How strong you felt after. At around 10:05 you all begin to make your way back to your dorms, saying goodnight to Ari and Mae for the night.
When you're turning the corner to go past the dining hall you run into some familiar faces, the Kiszkas. Along with them their third brother and dad. Your eyes shoot open and smile at them. You and Char slow up to say hi to everyone.
“Hi Josh.” You smile at him and then turn to Mr.Kiszka. “Hi Mr. Kiszka, I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” You reach your hand out to shake his. He grips your hand in his, giving it a firm shake.
“I know exactly who you are, y/n, I noticed you during last year's play. You did very well with your role, a very underrated character.” You thank him for noticing your talent. “My son has told me a lot about you.”
Oh shit. “Um, which son?” You giggle jokingly, but you're not joking at all. You look at Josh who is giving you a strange look, while Jake has a proud look across his face.
“Well Josh, unless you also know my son Jake.” He grabs Jake by the shoulder and shakes him a little, teasingly.
“I know Jake through Josh, never really got to know him though.” You look at Jake, who is shaking his head with a giant smirk plastered on his beautiful face. You turn your attention to the youngest of brothers, who was sporting a t-shirt and short shorts. He has gorgeous long hair that framed his face perfectly, it made you jealous. “I don’t think I’ve ever met you though?”
The youngest brother reaches out his hand for a shake. “My name is Sam, I might be coming here next year.” He smiles holding your hand a little longer than the average handshake, and with a little too much eye contact. You smile at him not wanting to be rude.
“That’s awesome, are you guys all taking a look around campus now?”
“No, no.” Mr. Kiszka butts in. “He has been here enough times to know the layout, we just came to visit these two, and go out for a quick dinner and go to see an old buddy who was in a band when I went here. I don’t know if you have plans, would you like to join us?”
You look at Charlotte who has a grin on her face. “No thank you sir, I hope you all have a great time tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow Josh. Goodbye Mr. Kiszka, it was nice to meet you.” You grin at him “It was also nice to meet you Sam, hopefully I’ll see you around next semester.” You say innocently, knowing that his intentions were to not come at all to college. Do you say bye to him? If you don’t it's even weirder.
“Nice to see you Jake. I hope you all have a good night.” You give a final wave before heading back to the dorm.
“That was awkward.”
“Oh shush it Char.”
As soon as you make your way into the dorm and the door clicks shut, you turn to Char.
“Char, did the convo we had earlier mean nothing, I said that information about Jake can not get out.” You widen your eyes at her, and you can tell she feels bad about it.
“I know I’m sorry. I wasn't even trying to bring it up, it just happened. I promise I won’t bring it up again.” She says with her big green eyes staring at you. You can’t stay mad at her. She has such a forgivable face. Which is probably why she’s able to get out of a lot of trouble when she is caught doing something she's not supposed to.
Like how Freshman year she was able to convince the police officer to not breathalyze her because she had asthma and didn’t want to start having a coughing fit. Somehow he believed her. Which you still don’t see how because she was absolutely obliterated and looked a complete mess.
“I’m gonna head out for a bit, Jonathan asked me if I wanted to stay the night at his place. So if you wanna have Josh over…”
“He will not be over, have a good night. Be safe.” You smile at her as she heads right back out the door.
After Char leaves, you shower and relax for a while until you receive a text from Josh.
12:23pm Josh: Hey I know it’s a little later now, if you don’t want to call I understand.
12:24pm y/n: I’d love to still call you Josh. Do you wanna facetime or call?
12:26pm Josh: Facetime, I miss your pretty face.
Oh jeez.
As your phone begins to dial, you do a quick check to see if you look okay. Your hair was beginning to dry and slight curls were beginning to form. You click the green button at the top of the screen and are met with a white ceiling.
“Josh?”
“Hey, sorry I was just getting in some pants, not that me being pantless would bother you.” He says as he drags a towel over his wet hair.
You roll your eyes, “Yeah Josh I definitely wanna be staring at your dick all night, sounds like a blast.” You say dryly, but knew that it wouldn’t be an awful way to spend the night. “So how was your evening with your family?”
“It was alright. My dad’s friend isn’t as good as he said he was, but what else is new. My dad seemed to really like you though, and my horny brother.”
You laugh at his statement. “What is that supposed to mean Josh.”
“Well as soon as we left and my dad was out of earshot he was saying some… things about you. So if he adds you on anything, don't add him back.” You check your insta and long and behold you had a new follower, @samfkiszka.
“Don’t worry I won’t, I don’t go for polite men anyways, that's why I got with you.” You say in a snarky tone.
“I was very kind to you.” A moment of silence. “Okay I wasn’t in the beginning but I am now, plus what he was saying when you were not there was far from polite.”
“Like what Josh, It can’t be any worse than what a normal highschool senior says.”
“Well if I remember correctly, and I have a fantastic memory, it was along the lines of, ‘well I normally wouldn’t go after older women but I wouldn’t mind a little cougar action. I mean her ass was pouring out of those tight, little shorts. I wouldn’t mind hitting it from the back, you wouldn’t know of any tattoos she would have on her back would you Josh?’”
Your jaw drops, “Um, well that wasn’t what I was expecting. I’ll make sure to steer clear from him.”
“Yeah he also said ‘that's another perk of coming to Michigan, the hot chicks, like Miss. y/n over there.’ It made me jealous.”
Jealous. Hmmmm.
“Really, Josh Kiszka is getting jealous, I would have never thought you’d admit it.” You say cocking your head to the side.
“Well, I don’t think anyone would be fond of hearing their younger sibling say that type of shit. Jake is different because we're like the same person. But my younger brother, um no.” He giggles.
Him and Jake were very much, not the same person. In more aspects than one. “So why didn’t your mom come up?”
“She was busy with my sister tonight. I don’t know if I ever mentioned her. She’s the middle child of all of us. But she doesn’t go here, she goes to a smaller college up north.” ‘
“Makes sense. Maybe I’ll meet her at some point. “ You hint to him. He smiles, but then goes quiet.
“I don’t know if this is too forward, and you don’t have to answer. We have been getting closer as friends and I just wanna know you and everything but dont feel the need…”
“Josh, please just spit it out. I promise I won’t get offended. You called me a slut like every single day so it probably won’t be that bad.”
“Yeah sorry about that. I just wanted to know about your mom. Like I know your parents are divorced but like do you still see her? I couldn’t imagine not seeing my mom.”
You sit there pondering on how to respond. You don't want him to feel sorry for you like how everyone else does, but you wanted to be honest with him.
“No, we don’t talk. We haven’t talked since I was maybe… what, like 10 years old? I have kinda lost track over the years.” You prepare yourself for the pity and sappy sympathy.
“Man, that must suck. And if you don’t mind me asking, why did they divorce?” You’re taken back by his bluntness, but it's also a little refreshing.
“I mean, yeah, at first it did suck but I’m used to it now. My mom was an addict. My dad tried to get her help, but she just refused. She stopped taking care of herself, then me. It wasn’t good. My dad had to divorce her and then he took her to a facility. She was there for a while and then I heard from family that she was out but relapsed right away. So I don’t know the current situation.” It was silent for a little, which is the normal reaction to everything. “Sorry if you didn’t want to know all of that, I just felt comfortable telling you. I haven't really told anyone else other than my close friends, but telling you felt right. I'm sorry.”
“y/n stop, you should not be sorry. I’m glad you opened up to me, I feel closer to you, in a different way than I ever have.” It was cute watching him get like this. He was very empathetic, in the best way he could. You could tell that he was not the type of person to be open with his feelings, or discuss others. You see him open his mouth to say something else but decide not to.
“I don’t expect you to make a whole speech about how it was wrong and that you feel bad. I’ve heard it all my life from whoever found out, well about the divorce part, not the drug part. That's a whole different thing. But just don’t see me differently. I just wanted to share because you asked and I felt comfortable telling you.”
He nods to you, still with a concerned look on his face. “Thank you for sharing, I promise I will never tell anyone. It sounds like a lot, but you turned out to be a really good person. Your dad must have done a good job raising you.” You smile thinking about your dad.
He was a tall skinny guy, similar to the statue of Coraline's dad. He wore his rectangle framed glasses and had a really good personality despite working in the office everyday. He always told you that you are his whole world, and that no matter what happened in his life, it would always get better when he remembered you and how proud he is of his daughter. He is dating Celia, his girlfriend, who you grew fond of over the years. She acted as the mom you never had growing up later in life. When your dad found out that you were going to Michigan he was upset that he wouldn’t be able to see his ‘little girl’ everyday, but he was so proud of you for getting into an amazing school. He is your biggest supporter, and you truly wouldn’t be who you are today without him.
“He did an amazing job raising me. I miss him so much.” The conversation made you realize you haven’t called your dad in a week or two, you were definitely going to have to call him soon.
“I know I always made fun of you for your, um, sexual history and other things, but I truly always saw you as perfect. With singing, acting, your personality, everything. I’ve never met a person who was as perfect as you in any aspect.”
“Josh, that was really kind of you. Like seriously it’s nice being told I’m more than just a slut for once. Like I’m aware I’m not the most prude person, but I don’t really care that I sleep around either. Being called a slut is whatever from random people but it hurts when you would do it. Especially because I wanted you to like me.” You shyly look at your comforter and play with the fabric.
“Well knowing that now I won’t call you that anymore. I promise, other than if the moment calls for it.” You scrunch your eyebrows.
“What type of moment?”
“You knowing when we are fucking and your doing something whoreish. But I don’t actually mean that you're a slut, just an in the moment type thing.”
“I get it. It’s bold of you to say that we’ll be fucking in the future.” You give him a smirk
He tilts his head to the side, giving you a ‘are you serious’ type look.
“What?” You question louder to him.
“We’ve been horned up for each other the past couple weeks and we're finally hanging out tomorrow night. I mean I don’t wanna predict anything but…”
“Well personally I was just thinking about the amazing night we had planned. I never even considered it.” Giving him a sarcastic look and a grin looking at his perfect face. “Your eyes look really pretty right now Josh.”
His cheeks begin to turn pink. “Are you trying to butter me up or something?”
“No. What, I can't just compliment you?”
“No you can. I love when you compliment me mama, it makes me feel good.” He smiles at you. “And when you give me other types of compliments, well those make me feel really good.”
“Like what Josh?” You giggle at him, prodding for more information.
“I really love when you call me names, and talk me through everything. Just thinking about it makes me horny. I wish you were here right now. I’d make you feel so good.”
“You can make me feel good tomorrow.” You say what you were both thinking about, knowing it was inevitable for it to happen.
“Or we help each other out right now?” He says with a devious grin on his face.
“I can’t really suck you off through the phone Josh.”
“Just talk to me mama, tell me all the things you would do to me if I was there.” You watch as his grin widens, his sparkling straight teeth shining through his pouty lips.
“What are you gonna do Joshy?”
“Well I’m gonna jerk myself off, and you can touch yourself, if you want. I wanna hear your pretty moans, don’t hold back for me, yeah? I want you to talk me through it, can you do that for me mama?”
You were taken aback. You never really did this with anyone, but you were an adventurous person and would try everything at least once.
“I can do that for you Joshy. I wanna see your body though. Can you tilt it down so I can see that perfect body of yours.”
He smirks at the camera before tilting the camera down, showing his bare abs and pants.
“I know you like my body mama. I love the way you feel me up and down during practice. Gets me going so much. Wanna take you right there on stage, so everyone can see.” Josh says as he begins to palm himself through his pajama pants. “Are you home alone?”
“I am, so I can be as loud as I want. Am I gonna be able to hear you Joshy?”
“Not as much as you. Jake is home in the living room.” Throwing his head back, moaning from the friction.
“Are you gonna be quiet for me, be a good boy and moan so just I can hear you.” You say in a low tone.
“I’ll be quiet for you mama. Just loud enough for your ears to hear, they're only meant for you.”
“Pull your pants down Josh. I wanna see that beautiful cock of yours, I know it's already hard as a rock and I haven’t even said much of anything yet.” You say licking your lips slightly.
“Just because we haven’t done anything doesn’t mean I wasn't thinking about it. Although I didn’t like Sam saying it, I couldn’t help but keep myself distracted during that show.” He pulls his pants down, releasing his cock. “I wanna fuck you so hard from the back, right in front of the mirror in my room. So I can see how good you look taking my cock.”
“Fuck, Josh. C-can I touch myself? You’re in charge, baby. What do you want me to do, daddy?” You grab your tit through your shirt, supplying yourself with the smallest amount of pleasure to at least get some relief.
“Well I didn’t tell you to start grabbing your tits, are you gonna listen to me or do your own fucking thing you brat.” He says sternly, obviously taking the more dominant role and you were thoroughly enjoying it.
“I’m sorry baby, what do you want me to do, I’m your puppet.” You let go of your tit, and give him your biggest puppy dog eyes.
“Well first I want your phone propped up so I can see your whole body, then I want you stripped on the bed, nothing on. Once you're done, lean yourself against your headboard and spread your legs.”
You follow his directions, putting your phone against the blankets at the end of your bed and spreading your legs, being completely vulnerable to him.
He bites his tongue, smiling. “What a pretty pussy. Such a shame I’m going to destroy it tomorrow.”
Your mouth opens and eyebrows raise in shock.
“Better keep that mouth shut y/n, or else I’m gonna have to come over and skull fuck you.”
Your lips slowly morph into a smile, as your hand begins to slowly start sliding down your stomach.
“Did I tell you you could touch yourself yet?” You shake your head ‘no’ at him. “That’s what I fucking thought.” You remove your hand from your stomach, and give him a little pout. “Such a sad little baby, can’t even keep her pretty little hands off her wet cunt.”
He loves the power he has over you, polar opposite of the demeanor his brother had earlier today.
“Are you gonna be a good girl and listen, because if you keep doing your own thing I’ll just jerk myself off, looking at that perfect body of yours.” He begins to work on himself after spitting in his hand.
“Can I touch myself now, I promise I’ll listen to you.” You sit there leaning against the headboard. Arms by your side.
“I want you to play with your tits first, spit on your hand and massage them, and pinch your nipples nice and hard. I’ll tell you when I’ve seen enough.”
You bring your hand up to your mouth, spitting into it. You stare at Josh, fondling them softly. “I wish these were your hands Josh. Yours are so big, and soft, god I wish they were in me.” You whimper letting your head push against the headboard exposing your neck.
“Oh I’ve missed that beautiful neck of yours, it's so perfect. Such a shame it’s going to be all bruised after tomorrow.”
Your open mouth turned into a smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, I’ll never say no. Oh god Josh can I please touch my pussy, it’s aching for touch.”
He smirks before giving you an answer. “One finger, that's it. Your gonna finger fuck yourself until I say you can do anything else.”
You begin to slide your hand down your stomach again, leading all the way down to your slick entrance. As you slip your middle finger in you moan, probably a little more than you had to, but you wanted to play it up for Josh. Give him something to remember.
“You’re so fucking sexy, I love hearing your little noises. Let them all out for me mama, don’t hold back.” You watch as he begins stroking himself faster and harder. The slapping noises drifting through the screen.
“Let me see that throbbing tip Joshy, rub it for me.” You curl your finger up trying to hit your sensitive spot, letting out a very real moan.
“You’re such a dirty girl baby. You should just come over and suck my cock. I don’t care that Jake is here, he can be jealous knowing he’ll never get that from you.”
That's awkward.
“I wish I could come over too, maybe you should come here.” You wink. He stops for a moment.
“Really? Because I will, don’t test me.”
“I’m just joking, I wanna do this with you. Try something new.” You pump your fingers into yourself even quicker, trying to get yourself there.
“You’re a fucking tease, you bitch. I can’t wait to have you all to myself tomorrow. You won’t be able to tease me, unless you wanna get punished. You don’t want that to happen do you.” He says in a sultry tone.
“Like I said I’ll never say no, you can punish me if you want, I’ll enjoy it.” Continuing to finger yourself, but needed more friction.
You let the palm of your hand grind against your clit, not worrying about your finger inside of you.
“You won't be enjoying it when I do it sweetheart. You’ll be moaning in pain, I won't hold back. Who knew Miss y/n liked a little pain with her pleasure?” He says with heavy breathing. He looks at you and his demeanor changes. “Hey, did I say you can rub your clit yet. I can see you grinding against it. Do you think I’m a dumbass?”
“Yeah.” You say under your breath hoping he wouldn’t hear.
“That’s one for tomorrow, keep it up and you’ll get more strikes added.”
“Added to what.” You ask, your heart thumping with anticipation.
“You’ll see, keep questioning and it’ll be two. Now be a good girl and lick yourself off your finger, then you can start rubbing your clit.”
You pull your finger up to your mouth making sure he sees you suck hard on it.
“So she can listen to directions, that's my good girl. Now go ahead and rub that throbbing clit for me baby. I know you want it so badly.” He smirks, picking up the pace on his cock again, moaning very quietly to not disturb Jake.
It didn’t take long to feel close to your climax after all that dirty talk and fingering. You began to moan louder letting him know you were close.
“Don’t you dare cum y/n. I told you I would tell you when to cum, if you want to you have to beg baby.” His voice was shaky, you knew he wasn’t too far behind you.
“Please Joshy, I need this, I wanna cum to you. I wanna see your perfect face while I finish. And I wanna see you cum all over yourself like a little slut. Please Ja-osh just let me.” You almost slipped, but you knew he didn’t catch it. He was too busy jerking off to everything you just said.
“God you make me go crazy, cum with me baby I’m so close. Oh fuck..mmm.” With that Josh came all over his perfectly sculpted abs, making your stomach flip. With a few more circles you were done. The wave of pleasure washed over your body.
“Oh fuck Josh. God, I feel so fucking good.” You say catching your breath. You grab your phone from the end of the bed. Throwing your blanket over your body. “Are you gonna make me feel like that tomorrow?”
“Way better than that baby I promise.” He says while he gets up to clean himself off.
“Okay well I’ll see you tomorrow then, just let me know when you're gonna come get me.”
“Wait.. I was actually thinking. Could you just stay on call tonight? I haven’t been sleeping the best and ever since that night at my house I’ve been thinking about how easy it was to fall asleep. If you don’t want to I get it but…”
“Of course Josh, anything for you.” You turn off your light and crawl into bed, seeing him mimic your moves.
“Goodnight mama.”
“Goodnight Joshy.”
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jaketsparrow · 1 month
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SOMETHING... | JTK
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader
Word Count: 10.6K
Summary: When you have to say goodbye to your professor and mentor, a cocky young professor steps in, Jacob Kiskza. Literature used to be your safe place, but now you feel him getting involved in every corner; it doesn’t help that you’re his TA. You deny yourself every opportunity to fall for him until…
A/N: Hi guys :) I know it’s been forever since I’ve put something together and I apologize about that, but this is life. This one has been on my mind since the Grammy U interview and I finally had the idea to put it all together. I hope you enjoy :) 
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*Also I'm so sorry I lost my tag list so if you want to be tagged here's a new form* Taglist
MINORS DNI
MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), talks about death/grief, angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, choking, alcohol use, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, ~some~ degrading, praise kink!, I’m sorry if I missed anything, but, etc, it’s filth. 
The classroom was cold in the early months of the year. You had gotten in the habit of wearing your coat through the 3-hour seminar. You were lucky that this class only ran once a week, but you often had to stay longer than the students, working with the professor for a few hours afterward. He was always elusive. Always eager to get things done as fast as possible; efficient and snappy. 
There was much to admire about him, but his personality often left you rolling your eyes. He always seemed a bit too sure about himself, always being the tough grader, pushing students further than they were willing to go. He cared a lot, especially about the subject matter. He still had that gusto in him to do things right, to be stern. 
He was new to the program; and before this, only about a year into teaching. You studied under his predecessor. She was a kinder old woman who cared deeply for you, like your mother away from home. She taught you everything- and even got you to change majors during your sophomore year. She supplemented your reading supplies, nurtured your abilities, and was always willing to sit in deep conversation with you. Discussing the classics, introducing modern pieces, talking about life, talking about it all. 
Professor Kiszka on the other hand… 
When he took over for Professor Meelo, he took very little time to rip the bandaid off. When you had originally been promised a TA position in the literature department, you were expected to be under your mentor, not a cocky white man. 
You spent weeks crying during winter break after first meeting him. The day you met him didn’t go exactly as you hoped. It was the week of finals when you found out Meelo was sick, and that she was stepping away from teaching. As if finals week wasn’t stressful enough, you had to come to terms with the fact that the woman who taught you everything was going to be leaving this world sooner than you would’ve thought. It was even more of a punch in the gut to walk into your introduction meeting to see… him. 
3 Months Ago
The walk across campus felt heavier than usual. The winter had been harsher than it usually was in early December. The wind whipped across your bare rosy cheeks, causing freezing tears to slowly fall out of the corners of your eyes. Almost like a bad omen, the weather continued to get worse as you sludged your way across the quad. 
The parking lot was nearly a mile away from campus, which was nice during the warmer months; the trees would sway across the crosswalk, blessing the sidewalk with fallen flowers and leaves. The grass was green and lively, a welcome mat onto a wonderful learning home. Between the cracks of the stone walkways, little dandelions would grow. You never understood the people who thought them to be unnecessary weeds. They were bright and yellow lively plants, and when the time of beauty passed, they passed their good wishes onto you. Blowing what once were vibrant petals into the wind. Who knew you’d miss the weeds on your walks?
Instead, now the stones were smeared with remnants of snowy footprints, broken earth that had been cracked through with the force of shovels, and the remnants of the dead earth.
Meelo called you just last week. You begged to go see her in the hospital, but she didn’t want you to worry too much. She agreed to call you every other day, just like your usual coffee arrangements. She loved them just as much as you did. She never had a husband or any children. Her students were her children, her soul was fed enough through changing lives that she didn’t want to take away that love from her students or prevent any child from feeling all of it. You were not the first to bear their soul in her office, but you might be one of the last. 
Meelo begged you to go meet the new professor. You had tried to rescind your TA position, but she blocked you at every chance she got. Even while in hospice she still managed to look out for you…
“Please, sweetheart. I know it’s not easy. But he’s young, he’s smart, I think you’ll have a lot in common with him,” She pleaded through the phone. 
“But he’s not you. I just, I thought… I thought I’d have more time…” Your voice trailed off. 
You tried to hold the phone away from your face, trying not to distress her more with the sounds of your whimpers and tears. 
Her voice started again, “You never know what you will learn from him. You have more time with me, but there comes a time when a teacher must share her students for them to learn more. If we stayed in our echo chamber together my dear I’m afraid you wouldn’t learn everything you need to know. Jacob is going to be a great professor, and I know you will learn a lot from him. His research and analysis work is quite extensive. The school and I hired him for a reason. Please. Just give it a try. For me.”
“Just for you.” 
And here you were trudging through, feeling every bone in your body telling you to turn around, to go home. But you were doing this not for you, you reminded yourself. For Meelo. She was right, you latched on to her from your early years in college and favored her over all of your other professors. They were kind and nice as well, but it didn’t matter to you in the end, if they weren’t Meelo, they were never going to compare. 
The building seemed colder than usual. The large glass windows were covered by their shades; no one wanted to see the gross state of life outside of the classroom. That’s hardly motivating to any student, the fluorescents would give more life than the grey state of the weather. 
You pull the door open, walk through the entryway, and follow your usual path down the hallway to Meelo’s room. 
The thing about old colleges, everywhere you turn is a little piece of history. Each room has housed many professors and many students. The building had life, had ghosts of its own hidden in each brick, in each stone. You felt the comfort of this presence moving through the hallway. 
You stop right before Meelo’s room, catching your breath before you enter. Trying to have an open mind. Kiszka could be something, or he could just be another man throwing words at you. Not that all men were the same, but a majority of the male professors here were lackluster, favoring the male students and the athletes who needed the better grades to stay in the school. And if they favored the women… You always felt a cold chill thinking about that. Thinking about why…
One last deep breath before you enter the classroom. You grab tight onto the handle of your tote bag and strut confidently into the room. 
It was empty. 
The beautiful artwork and posters that Meelo had filling the room were stripped. Revealing the natural state of the architecture. It was beautiful in its own way but didn’t feel like the educational home you once felt so blessed to be in. The desks were all shoved to one side of the classroom. The previous welcoming U-shape was demolished, instead providing a cluttered destruction of Meelo’s work. 
You stood awestruck in the shape of the room. There was no time wasted between Meelo leaving and Kiszka starting to make his mark on the room. The bookshelves that used to be filled in the back of the room had been emptied and their contents sat on the floor in boxes.
You walk over to the boxes, kneeling to gently sift through the carelessly placed books. This was Meelo’s library that she had collected for the classroom. Take a book, leave a book, borrow a book, bring it back. You loved visiting this wall every week, seeing what books your peers were interested in, and which books made their way into the library. Some new, and some returning after long months away. 
Sitting on top of the box was the classic “Brave New World”. Aldous Huxley. 1932. Not an original copy, but a new binding. It was like the universe was sending you signs. This would be a brave new world. A world where you might have to come to terms with the fact that Meelo would not be in your life forever.  A world where you might have to figure out everything with a new mentor. A world where you thought you would have years to work on your pieces with a woman who understood you, but now you would turn over your heartfelt pieces to a man. One who may not understand you the same as someone else does.
“A favorite of yours?” A voice perks up from the doorway. 
You turn to see him. Your eyes work your way up his figure. He’s wearing Chelsea boots, black thick linen pants, a white loose shirt with a black vest, and a dress coat over it. His chestnut hair lays over the shoulders of the coat, and his eyes are covered by circular gold-rimmed sunglasses. He oozes mystery. His arms crossed, surveying your crouched body by the boxes. You hate to admit it, but he may be one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. 
You hold up the book towards him, displaying the cover. 
“Not particularly. I don’t like thinking about the takeover of technology. It feels too real right now.” You respond. 
He wanders over to you, taking his time, each step creating the most annoying echo in the emptied classroom. He reaches his hand out to yours, asking silently for the book. You hand it over to him and stand to match his level. 
He passes the book between his hands, admiring the binds, “Ah, yes, but perhaps something can be learned from the book if more understood its warning… if only more read it…”
“If only…” You let the conversation trail off. Your eyes wander back to the pile of desks on the opposite wall. You feel yourself zoning out, focused only on the change of the room, not on the man in front of you. 
“-Your favorite?” He asks. 
You snap back to the conversation, trying to recall the beginning of his question, “I’m sorry? 
“If this is not your favorite, can I ask which is?” He waves you to walk with him. 
You follow him into the office at the back of the classroom. He sits in Meelo’s chair, and you sit in the chair that had held you so many times. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cushion had a you-shaped imprint in it at this point. 
He asks a third time, “You don’t seem like the Jane Eyre or Louisa May student, so what is it?” 
You let your bag fall off your shoulder and you try to sit up in the chair, asserting some sort of professionalism. Your answer will hold some sort of judgment for him. Although you want to be offended by his comment about the female author’s classics, he’s right. They were never your favorite. 
“Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Meelo gave it to me as my first assignment.” You respond, confident in your answer. 
He nods in approval, “Lovely choice, very telling. Meelo said you were very bright–one for the classics.” 
He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin. His hand reaches up to the gold-rims and pulls them off, clattering onto the desk. He pulls himself towards the desk, resting his elbows on the table. 
“Are you going to ask me mine?” He asks, almost presumptuously. 
You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he has to find a way to be important here. You adjust yourself in your seat, crossing your arms in the process. 
“If you want me to know, why don’t you just say it?” You retort. 
He chuckles to himself, “Lord of the Rings.” 
Your mouth falls so far open that you’re afraid a fly might buzz its way in. You lift your hand to your mouth and try to hide your disapproval.
“That’s a classic for sure.” You reply, “Not one I would’ve expected from a college literature professor, but a classic nonetheless.”
He pushes himself off the desk, running his hands through his long locks before they make their way onto the arms of the seat. 
“You don’t approve?” He scoffs. 
“I didn’t say that, I just said it’s not one that I would expect.” 
“I believe there is a difference between a personal and professional favorite. A favorite you could read over and over again, and you could enjoy without having to think too much about what it all means. it’s an adventure, its heroes and legends, it’s a call for relaxation and enjoyment. I’d rather have my favorite be a well-known classic than a deep thought-provoking story about purity.”
You fight every urge in you to slap the man sitting before you for disgracing such a beautiful novel. But you think about Meelo. You think about stepping outside of the echo chamber. 
“I think we may have different opinions on favorites, Professor Kiszka.” You say shortly. 
You feel the tension grow between you already. This would be a difficult semester. Even more difficult because as you felt your dislike for him grow, you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful man sitting in front of you. His brown eyes stared deep into you, trying to assess his new assistant. You tried not to let him in too far. You were not fawning for him, at least you weren’t trying to. You wanted to fight off the growing warmth crying to spread through you. It was like seeing a handsome stranger in the bar; you knew the danger, but almost didn’t want to let yourself protect your heart. 
He was by far the youngest professor here, and the most eligible. No ring was on his finger. 
“Please, call me Jacob.” 
You stood up from your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You try to compose yourself enough not to let any distaste escape from your lips. 
“Sorry, Professor Kiszka, I have finals I need to finish, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you in January. If you need anything from me before then, I believe the dean gave you my information.”
You reach your hand out awkwardly, trying to invite a handshake. He cautiously reaches his hand back, pulling you into a firm, but still gentle handshake. 
His eyes meet yours. The deep brown staring into you. Although you should have the power from your standing position, you knew he held all the cards from his seat. The handshake lingered longer than you had expected, both of you locked deep into staring each other down. He finally releases his hand. 
“It was a pleasure.” You start to leave the office, but he makes one last remark, “Oh, one last thing…” 
You turn to face him, “Yes professor?”
 He reaches into the desk and pulls out a cloth-bound book, handing it to you. You slowly return to the desk, taking the book from his hand—the Lord of the Rings. 
“Try it for me? You do have a whole winter break…”
You rub your hands over the cover, smiling at his request. You place the book back in his hand.
“I used to read it as a child. No need to give it a try when you’ve read it four times already.” You smile at him. 
Even if it wasn’t your favorite, didn’t mean it wasn’t a favorite. 
Present
In some ways, your relationship with him felt like a love-lost marriage. Just moving through the motions. You sat in on the classes and took note of who engaged, and who didn’t. You graded assignments, tests, and papers, with him always double-checking and doubting your work. You didn’t sit in on long conversations with him like Meelo. Perhaps some of that was your fault, always quick to get to work. He adjusted to you quickly, understanding how you needed to work, and letting you grieve. 
Meelo passed quickly into the semester. You cried once in front of him when the news broke. You nearly snapped his head off when he asked if he could help you. From that moment on he took on this cold persona, but you don’t blame him at all. You knew in your heart that you would not have the same connection with him as Meelo, so it was easier to never try. 
Through everything, your work never faltered, and your school work remained the priority. Perhaps it was a way to hide through all the pain but the calculated steps it took to grade provided a soothing rhythm amongst the distress. 
You never failed to notice all the times you caught him catching glances at you. You were silly to think that it meant anything more than just a quick look, but still maybe somewhere in your heart, you had hoped that maybe he was thinking of you more than his assistant. For weeks you watched him stroll into class, always wearing a disheveled but somehow put-together outfit. You loved seeing how he would piece together different clothes from his collection. Never repeating an exact outfit, but always finding new ways to repurpose the same items. 
One day he walked in with a new addition to his look, a cluster of pendants on a necklace. They looked older, more worn in than any new silver. You asked him about it briefly, trying not to engage in a further conversation. 
“They’re coins, Spanish coins, designed after ones from the 1600s. I think the jeweler lied to me when he said they were originals, but they still look okay… Do you think so? 
“You look like a pirate.” You responded. 
A sexy pirate. You shoved that thought deep into the back of your mind. Holding on to it, because you didn’t want to forget how good he looked. 
His Thursday classes were always one of the better ones. This was one that you had to take yourself for your graduate program. There was no TA’ing involved as that would be a huge conflict of interest if you got to grade your papers. You chose to sit in the back corner of the class by the window, in hopes that when spring rolls around you could watch the foliage return. The unfortunate thing about this choice was the waiting. February was colder than you had expected and the windows provided no warmth. 
When you were TA’ing you got to sit at the edge of the office and the classroom. Kiszka brought a space heater for you to place at the doorway. He joked he didn’t need his assistant ‘freezing to death’, because then ‘who would grade the papers’.
You tried your hardest to not let him favor you, but you knew he was someone who would be kind no matter how much you asked him to stop. He would leave books on the edge of his desk for you to read and when you tried to return them he declined and told you he already had a copy in his collection. You doubted that and always protested in fear that you thought you might lead him on. But in the end, it was always you walking out with a new book in your bag. 
He was trying his hardest to get along with you. Some days it was easier and you would entertain his questions, but other days it was easier to be quick and move along. This relationship was not going to be a fairytale. You had already found your soulmate once, and you lost her. In your mind, there was no more room in your heart to let someone in. And why should you prepare space for someone if you truly don’t know if they want to be there? 
This class although interesting became boring as the weeks went on. The class had fallen into a seasonal depression of sorts. Many like you had expected to have Meelo for the semester when you had booked your classes, so when Kiszka showed up and tried to shake things up… It wasn’t easy. He was skilled and smart, sure… But not the same. He craved involvement and wanted the class to join in with him, but often would push people further than they were willing to go. A room full of mid-20-year-olds was truly a space of burnout. Many of these students had already passed four, sometimes five years of school before they stepped into this class. They no longer have that lively interest in reading and analyzing literature but want to create their own.
“-And what was this author trying to convey through his use of metaphors?...” He asked from his commanding space at the front of the class, “No one?... No one picked up on this…? Or are you too scared to be wrong?”
Your attempts at fighting off eye-rolls also subsided the longer this course went on, and this roll came on hard. You’ve heard this line countless times through multiple classes. He wasn’t wrong, but he could at least find different ways to say the statement. 
“Y/N? Care to enlighten everyone?” He calls to you, in need of saving the class who had lost attention nearly an hour ago. 
“Sure. It’s a metaphor for how women are treated in society.” You answer.
He grits his teeth and sighs, “Not quite, but you’re close…” 
You lift yourself from your slump, “No, that’s right. She is clearly trying to convey the expectations of women in society and how we are treated. As a female author, she leaves these metaphors to be very simple for female readers to understand. For males, it’s harder to grasp that the severity of these situations could imply the treatment of women, but that’s what she’s trying to explain.”
He clasps his hands together giving them a brief shake, “That class, that is how you analyze. Literature can be read in different ways by different readers. The author may have a clear intention of what they are trying to write, but others may be able to relate it to other aspects of their life. I have my own interpretation, and you all may have others. That is how this should be working. There is nothing wrong, with how you analyze, just that you have the knowledge to back it up…”
Every time you tried to make him out to be the bad guy, he ended up being in the right. You hated how smart he was. You hated how much you wanted to watch him while he stood up there. You hated how he wasn’t her. But you knew you didn’t want him to leave. 
“So with that,” He continues, “Finish up the last few chapters and please come prepared with statements next week about your findings. I want you to dig deep; feel the author. I’ll see you next week.” 
The class starts their shuffle for the door, while you meander to your usual spot at the doorway of the office. The next class wouldn’t be in for 20 minutes, but you would at least have time to warm up. 
You click on the heater and walk over to Kiszka’s rolling desk chair. You take your coat off and rest it over the seat, pushing it over to the door. Kiszka finds his seat at the front of the classroom, pulling out his book of the week. He usually would try to follow you, asking you what you were reading, then the next day showing up to class with an identical copy. It was annoying and endearing how much he wanted to learn from you. You wondered if it upset him that you weren’t as keen on learning from him. 
He confided in you that Meelo was an idol of his as well, and although he didn’t get to learn from her, he was going to try to through you. 
You pull your copy of Anna Karenina from your bag and join him. Your chapters ahead of him, but you enjoy being one step in front of him. 
You peep up from the back of the room, “I didn’t ask, but please tell me this isn’t your first time reading this.” 
He lifts his head from the book slightly, eyes still skimming the page, “Third.” 
You sigh in relief. That would’ve been embarrassing; for him. 
You return to the book. You’re finding it harder to dive in today than usual, something is different… You see out of the corner of your eye that Kiszka has put down the book altogether, and you can sense him staring. This lasts a few moments, but you try to remain focused on the words, but catching yourself having to re-read the paragraphs; not processing the sentences you’ve already read.
A minute goes by and he hasn’t returned to his pages. Instead, you hear the squeak of his chair rolling over to his computer. A few clicks and a frenzy of taps on the keyboard. 
“Hey.” He prods. 
You look up again from the book. He peers at you over the edge of his computer and then closes it so he can see you better. He grasps his jaw lightly, stroking it in his hands. 
“Yes?” You asked, trying not to seem annoyed by the interruption. 
“Let’s go over your manuscript. I want to see it.” He continues. 
No. It’s not time yet. You’ve been meticulously editing it for months now. He wasn’t supposed to read it until midterms, you were supposed to have more time…
You drop the book into your lap, “It’s not ready…” You close the book, “Also we have class in twenty minutes, you won’t be able to read it all by then.” 
He stands up from his seat, straightening his vest out, “I canceled class. Pull it out.” 
Two Hours Later
Some time had passed. You both sat in his office now. Him at… his… desk, and you still positioned by the heater at the door. At this point you were warm enough to finally take your sweater off, stripping down to a simple black t-shirt. You saw him staring through the pages when you pulled the sweater off. If he had looked any harder you think he might burn a hole through the book.
The office was silent except for the occasional click and clack of the heater, and the flickering of the candle on his desk. He flipped through the lightly bound pages while you continued through your reading. Every couple of minutes you could hear the stroke of his red pen hit the pages. The words or corrections will wait for you later. You could sit and scoff at them later in your apartment. The man said his favorite book was Lord of the Rings, how could you possibly trust his editorial judgment?
You had made it about a hundred or so pages through your book, which was slower than you would’ve liked. You still couldn’t breach the interferences. You thought the silence would help, but hearing his hums, his pen strokes, the occasional sip of scotch… It was all a distraction. 
You couldn’t stop looking up from the book to watch him slyly admire your work. You knew your writing was good; Meelo had seen the early stages of it all. She heard the direction and loved every word… A complete sadness rushed over you thinking of how she would never see the final product. 
Kiszka would adjust himself every few minutes; switching positions in his seat. You wanted to trust yourself enough not to look every time he shifted his hips, but those linen pants he loved so much left little to wonder about him. You had a closeness to him that you didn’t want to admit. As many differences as there were between you, there were just as many similarities. He was an outsider here; you could see that clearly. The other professors didn’t trust him because of his age- the students tried to walk all over him because of that too. 
Even though you wanted to hate how pretentious he seemed, deep down you knew it was a facade to seem more studious to others. You saw the real him in glimpses. The kindness he offered to you that many others most likely wouldn’t have. Your youth and love for literature matched his perfectly, although you couldn’t always find the way to express it correctly. Your loyalty to Meelo prevented that at every chance. 
Letting him read this manuscript was a big step that you didn’t fully even realize until he had reached the halfway point. You wanted to go and rip the pages out of his hand, throw them out the window, prevent him from seeing you too deeply… But something inside you needed to know what he thought of it. 
Frustrated by your lack of progress, you lowered the book into your lap. You took this time to look around the room. It had changed so much since you had seen it back in December. Kiszka’s library had taken up the room, along with his record collection. When you would come by early in the morning to drop off the graded work, you would hear him playing some of it. Blues, rock, the classics. You never disturbed him during these times, it felt too intimate to interrupt. Instead, you would place the binder of essays on his classroom desk and scurry away before he could come to say hello. 
You place your bookmark into the page opening. You calmly stand and place the book where you once sat. Quietly, you make your way over to his collection.  
You see him peer up through the pages. Curious about your movements, watching you silently behind the manuscript. 
You lower yourself to the floor, sifting through the jackets of the vinyls. Alphabetical. Of course. You make your way quickly through the a’s and land through the b’s. As cliche as it seems, you truly love Abbey Road, and of course, there it is front and center with the other Beatles albums. You pull it out from the shelf, removing the jacket carefully from the sleeve. You lift the vinyl out and place it on the record player. It’s a modern one, which feels very out of character for Kiszka. He always seemed like the type to randomly have every item of his be nothing newer than 20 years old. 
You press play and lower the needle onto the music. 
Come Together plays softly through the speakers. You turn to look back at him, seeing if there is any protest. Instead, he has the red pen out, slashing across the paper. You grit your teeth and try not to engage. You return to his collection, running your fingers along the remainder of the vinyl. The plastic tickles through your fingers, creating a click, click sound as each jacket releases from your hold. 
Although you did want Kiszka to keep reading, you felt it was necessary to distract him, to try and persuade him to step away…
You continue from the vinyl collection, traipsing through the room. It’s like a library out of a movie, truly. You admired his office deeply and loved to gaze at it while he was lecturing. Sometimes when he was deep in his philosophy of literature speeches, you would lean back in the chair and try to read the book titles from afar. Your eyesight was good, but not good enough to make out the exact names of all of them. You never dared to peruse like this before, but this moment presented the perfect opportunity. 
You were his captive for the remainder of his reading. Well… In all reality, you didn’t have to be here, but you didn’t dare leave that manuscript alone. It had been stored with you in your tote for the past month. You tried to take chunks of edits at a time, working through it yourself when you had time but didn’t want to share it with anyone until you felt that it was complete. 
You tried to fight Kiszka off, but the notion of him canceling class meant that he found taking the time to do this very important… 
The books that were displayed on these shelves were not the type of books that you would find at your local bookstore. They were older, worn in, some of them originals, even some you haven’t read yet. Maybe he did have some things that he could show you…
 You make your way to the last set of bookshelves, rounding the back corner of the office. The last edge of the wall had his makeshift bar. 
The liquor was all dark, amber-colored. Very manly, you thought to yourself. Bottles of whiskey and scotch lined the makeshift bar. Jack Daniels, Sazerac Rye, Macallan Double Cask… You recognized some of the labels. 
Kiszka crept up behind you, “If you wanted a glass, you could’ve asked.” 
He reaches down below you to fetch a rocks glass from the bar. He grabs the Macallan Double Cask and pours a finger for you. The alcohol flows effortlessly out of the bottle, barely splashing into the glass.  He hands the glass to you, your hand brushing his. His touch is warm… Kind. He takes his other hand and grabs your shoulder, in a comforting way. You want to seem completely normal, but feel your cheeks getting rosy from the touch. You suck on your bottom lip and try to hide your face. 
You take a large swig of the scotch, trying to be mindful of not wasting such a good drink. He looks at you, shocked at your ability to take it so easily. 
“Wow. Good.” Is the only words he can mutter. 
You smile meekly. The praise makes you feel undoubtedly shyer than you had just before. 
“Are these originals?” You ask, pointing to the corner section of his library, “I couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to touch them if they were.”
“Many of them, yes,” He responds, “I trust that you would be gentle with them, please, which one were you curious about?” 
You make your way over to the shelf, placing your drink down on the small table near the corner. You reach up to fold out the red bound book. Its title was completely faded from the binding, but we’re curious as to which one it was. He follows closely behind you, close enough to almost be on you. 
He laughs, “Funny you should grab that..” 
You open the cover to find Lord of the Rings printed in big black letters. 
“Oh, dear god.” You sigh. 
“It is an original if that makes you feel any better about it. I know you hate this book, but still-”
“No, no,” You protest, “I never said I hated it, I just said it wasn’t my favorite. Remember we have different opinions on that professor.” 
He scoffs and takes the book from your hand. Rubbing the cloth binding with his thumbs.
“Want to know something funny?” He questions. 
You did. You really did. You wanted the connection at this moment… For whatever cosmic reason it finally felt okay to banter with him. You nod your head, approving him to continue. 
“I saw the movies before I read the books.” He laughs, “My brothers and I loved it, we were practically obsessed, but I was younger then and a stupid boy who didn’t read like I do now. Not the fairytale way most people find their favorite but it reminds me of childhood…”
You wanted to laugh, you wanted to make fun of him for it. But you knew that this was a special moment for him. A look into his past, a presentation for more. He places the book carefully back on the shelf, tucking it back into its spot. 
“Well, I guess that makes more sense now. But, as a graduate professor, you ought to just say you like the pretentious shit. No one’s going to take you seriously.” 
He turns from the shelf, “Who said I was worried about that? If I lie then I am a fraud. I don’t care if anyone says that.” 
Oh fuck. His confidence is so intoxicating. He’s right. Why should he care? 
“I just- I meant… I thought that the other professors-” 
“You thought that they don’t take me seriously? Right. They don’t. In schools like this, you have to earn respect. I’m not an alumnus, I didn’t go to Harvard, but I do a damn good job at what I do. As much as you may protest some of my teaching, I know what I’m doing.”
He breezes past you and strolls back over to the bar to pour himself another drink. You reach back for yours and hold it between your hands, trying to collect yourself. You hope that you didn’t hurt him. 
“Did I offend you?” You ask.
“‘Course not,” He takes a swig, “I just wish you would realize that it doesn’t matter what standards others hold you to. You are not someone else. You are you.” 
“I know that.” You respond dryly. Your answer didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to be. It came out unsure and desperate. 
“Then why has your whole academic career been based on your relationship with one woman? Why must everything you do be for her?...” 
You stand there silently. Completely struck with emotions. Anger, sadness, discouragement.
“She… She made me who I am,” You pipe, “She’s the reason I am in this program.” 
He strolls back over to you, locking your eyes with his. It’s intimidating, this look he has on his face. He’s studying you, seeing how lost you feel. Truly for the first time you couldn’t even try to put up any walls. He had broken you down. 
He places his hand on your shoulder again, “Can I show you something?” He asks. 
Before you have time to even object to him, his hand moves from your shoulder to your waist, guiding you back towards his desk. You feel butterflies growing inside you. 
No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He is your advisor. He is not someone you should feel this way about. He’s trying to help you, he’s not interested in you. 
The vinyl finishes its song and moves on to Something. He guides you into his seat. You place the glass down on the desk and wipe the condensation from your hands onto your thighs. He reaches over the desk and twirls the manuscript back in front of you. The pages sit open about two-thirds of the way through. He stands behind you, practically leaning on your back. His chest rests against your shoulder, pointing at the beginning of the page. 
“See this paragraph here?” He questions. 
You strain so hard to not melt at his touch. His hair is grazing your cheek. It smells wonderful, but you can’t admit that. He has this gentle but clean musk about him. He smells like a perfectly cared-for bookstore. A soft smell of tobacco and oak. The chains with pendants are draping over his neck, sparkling in the moonlight of the night, softly clanking together with his movement 
You need to focus. 
You respond, afraid that you waited too long, “Yes?” Your voice wavers, the lack of confidence creeping back through, “Is there something wrong with it?” 
He turns to face you, “Yes. I have a big problem with it.” 
You feel your heart sink. What could be wrong with it? The back half of the book is the best part, it is the part you feel most confident with. You feel confused. All of those walls and confidence you felt once in his presence were lost. 
“What…? What problem?” 
You look back at the pages, disregarding his closeness to you, pulling the bundle of paper back towards you, and flipping through to the previous pages. He puts his hand on yours, stopping you from searching. He lowers himself next to the seat, squatting to be at your eye level. His thumb wanders back and forth over your wrist. 
He smiles a crooked and cunning smile, “It’s some of the best writing I’ve seen in years, and the author was too scared to even share it with anyone. She lost someone and had to do this all on her own. That’s terrifying, but it’s still her work. ” 
You look at the hand holding yours. It’s strong but has a softness to it. It has a few rings sitting on them, but none a wedding band. You lower your head and release your wrist, grabbing it with your other hand. You sigh heavily and grasp your hands in front of the pages. Your hands travel up to hide your face, which presents a melancholic smile that you can’t let go of. You can’t tell if it’s the liquor or his presence, but you feel a glow coming from inside. 
You rush your hands past your face and through your hair, resting your hands on the back of your neck. Scoffing, you turn to look at him. His amused smile is irresistible. 
“You,” He starts, “Are an amazing writer.” His hand lifts from the pages and reaches up towards your cheek, holding your face in his palm, “And no matter who your teacher is, you can still do it on your own.”
Your hand finds its way up to his arm, holding him back. Staring longingly at each other. Both deep down knowing that this was about to lead down a path you couldn’t return from. 
“Professor-” You initiate.
“Jacob.” He replies. 
“Fine… Jacob. This- I… I don’t think.” 
He quickly removes his hand from your face and comes to his senses. “Oh, dear, um… I’m so sorry y/n… I…”
You let yourself slump in the seat. How could you? How could you squander that moment? After years of wishing to find a man who was at least half as interested in literature as you… Here you are throwing it away. But you could be right to do so. He was your professor, you were his assistant, the moral implications of this all… 
Jacob stands and leans back onto the desk, stroking his chin, concerned. Thinking about it all. You can see the nerves climbing through him. He feels embarrassed.
You reach your hand up to your face again, burying your emotions into your skin. 
“I just thought- I, fuck.” He continues, “I thought we were turning a corner, I was looking and I thought I saw you-” 
“You did.” You respond, “...I was looking.”
You lower your hand from your face to stare back at him. You put the manuscript back on the desk and stand. 
“You… You were?” He searches for the answer. 
“Jacob… For months I have looked. I didn’t want to like you. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. My mentor was my heart and soul, she was everything to me. I didn’t want to give you any chances because I didn’t want to lose someone like that again… I can’t handle that heartbreak. But…” You trail off. 
“But?” He inquires. 
You reach for the scotch glass and swirl the liquid around. Staring deep into the stormy amber. 
“Fuck it.” You take the last of the scotch into your mouth and turn back to Jacob, “You… You are what I’ve wanted. I can’t deny the way I feel when it’s just us. When I see you deep in thought, when you push me to go further; when you challenge me. When we’re alone, and I see you for the man you are. When I see how genuinely fucking amazing you are. And I’m so mad at myself for not opening myself to you.” 
Jacob peels himself off the desk and stances himself in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them tenderly in his. You drop your head, your hair falling over your frustrated expression. 
“You were grieving, you wouldn’t have been ready for this.” He reaches his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. 
You look up to him with doe eyes. He was the older man, coming in for the prey. You wanted to be his. You wanted to have him. You wanted it. You denied it for months. You denied it from the moment you saw him. You denied yourself to knowing him in fear that this exact moment would happen. But here you were. Unveiling yourself to him in the very place you felt the first attraction. 
“I want to be ready. No, I am ready. I want this. I can’t deny myself happiness because of everything that happened,” You said. 
“Are you sure?” He asked. Trying to test you. 
You nod your head in approval, trying once again to keep the emotions bottled in. 
“I don’t want you to feel any pressure because-”
“Please don’t say it. I know. I know this is all morally fucked up, but I’m an adult, you’re an adult. Just treat me like one.”
He smiles, admiring your maturity, “If you want to do this, there are some things we have to settle first.” 
You look up at him confused, “Things? What things?” 
“More like rules,” He answers, titling his head playfully, “I need to know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to scare you even more than you already seem.” 
He returns his hand to hold your face, just like he previously had only moments before.
“I’m not scared Jacob. What rules?”
“As much as I like to be gentle with women, I also enjoy being rough.” He says through a velvety tone
You jolt back, at first fearful of his words, but relax quickly, reminding yourself you don’t need to be scared. 
“How rough are we talking…” You prod. 
The cunning smile returns across his face, “Don’t worry, I don’t leave marks, at least too bad of marks… And only rough enough that you’ll still be wanting more by the time we’re done.” 
You bite your lip at the thought. You’re no virgin at this point in your life, but you’ve never been able to explore this type of intimacy. Every man in college is practically an amateur at pleasuring women and even more so when it comes to exploration in sex. You’ve read plenty of books to know about the type of sex he was talking about. As much as you enjoyed the classics and the light-hearted romance, you still found yourself picking up a steamier romance book in private. 
You wanted that. Had practically dreamed about it before… 
Being here with this man, who was only a few years your senior, felt like you could practice this fantasy safely. He knew what he was doing, he could show you pleasures you didn’t even know you could enjoy. Even if you felt like you couldn’t learn more from your education with him, perhaps there were other things he could teach you. It was all becoming a bit too exciting. 
His hand moves slowly down from your cheek to your waist. His palms gently grazed your spine until they locked in on your love handles. 
“So,” He continues, “Are you going to be my good girl? Can you be good for me? Do you think you can take it?”
You reach out to his chest, moving aside his shirt which had barely been buttoned. With one swipe down his sternum, you unlatched all of them revealing his smooth golden skin. He watched you intently, seeing you explore his skin like never before. You traced your fingers along the opening, feeling your need to reach more grow. With each second that passed you felt the insatiable thirst to be close to him; to feel him. His grip on your waist tightened with each pass you made over his chest. 
His other hand joined him on your opposite side. You feared that your hips may break with his excited hold. You looked up at him, biting your lip, trying to remain coy. That soft smile appeared on his lips; you had answered with your body language. 
He pushes his hands further into you and lifts you onto the desk, your ass barely resting on the edge of the wood. 
“Words,” He said, pulling himself closer into you, resting perfectly between your legs, “Nothing’s going to happen until you tell me you want it to. This isn’t going to work sweetheart unless you use your words.”
“Jacob-” Are the only breathy words that you can mutter. 
You can feel him growing, feel the linen pants barely holding back his excitement. You feel your heartbeat travel from your chest, down into your stomach, into your… 
His hand moves up to your jaw, holding it firmly in his grip, “Y/N, follow the instructions. Words. I’m not going to wait much longer.” 
“Yes-”
Before you can even finish he’s pulling you into an embrace. Your lips meet his. The soft taste of scotch remaining on both of you created an intoxicating addicting feeling. It was complete passion, complete neediness to be one. His tongue introduces itself into your mouth… Soft, wet. Beckoning. The noises you both are making sound feral, completely unusual for the both of you. What once was a prim and proper relationship between you became a fervent desperation to touch… To fuck. 
His hands traveled down your body, first reaching your chest, grasping you completely in his hand. Rolling his palms over the front of your breasts, driving you completely mad. You wished the barriers of clothing had been completely stripped away, but he was too hungry to even keep you waiting for long. His hands reached under your shirt, plowing underneath the wire of your bra to find your naked breasts. A soft relieving moan escaped your lips through the breaths of the kissing. 
You reached your hands out to find the remainder of the buttons of his vest closing you off to his body. You made quick work of unbuttoning them, reaching your hands across his midsection; climbing to his back. Reaching up towards his shoulders, feeling the softness of his skin across the pads of your fingers. God, he was perfect. 
His fingers traveled to your nipples, running his thumb and forefinger over the bud of your nipples. Before you could even realize what you were doing, your nails dragged down his back, raking into his skin. He paused the kissing for a moment to let out a moaning growl. He slid his hands out from your bra, slipping down to the edges of your shirt, attempting to tug it off as fast as he could. You snatched your hands out of his shirt to raise them over your head, giving him complete access to strip you. 
He placed his hand between your breasts and forced you down onto the desk, your head falling onto the manuscript below you. He shook off his vest and was quick to pull his shirt off. 
“Seems like I’m not the only one who likes it rough, huh?” He asked. 
You lifted your head from the desk, “No, definitely not.” You responded. Unsure where this untamed version of you had even come from. 
“No, sir” He stated, pushing you back down. 
“What?” You asked, skeptical of what he meant.    
He mounted himself once again between your legs, grinding himself into you. He traced his finger down your neck, to the waistline of your pants.
“Sir… That’s what my good girls going to call me, okay?” 
You rolled your eyes, unaware that you were even doing so, “Call me Jacob,” you mock, “Call me sir.”
He reached back up to your jaw, pushing his thumb into your cheek, “If you’re going to be a brat we’re going to need to set some more rules. Good girls don’t get punished, but you’re already testing me.”
Completely stunned, you look back at him trying to emulate a softness, an apology. You had to admit though, you weren’t scared of him… If anything you were more turned on by the thought of his punishments. 
“And how would you punish me, sir?” You ask in your best sultry voice. 
He let out a low grumbling laugh. He studied your body, not even acknowledging your question, just thinking… Thinking of what he would do to you. He grabbed onto your hips and pulled you hard into his cock. There was no wondering anymore. You could feel how large he was, how excited he was. If your own body wasn’t blocking it you could probably see it entirely. 
“Maybe,” He starts, “Maybe you’re not going to be my good girl,” His hands dig deeper into your waist, “Maybe, you’re going to be my little slut.” 
The word echoed through the room. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not the feeling of being displeased, it was a feeling of being right. Being here with him, being under his control, felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. He could see you in a way that someone hasn’t seen you for months. He was learning every inch of you and would learn even more as the night went on. 
He leaned down from his high position to plant gentle kisses along your neck. Gingerly leaving behind little reminders of passion. 
“-And if you’re going to be my slut,” He whines through breathy kisses, “you need to know the safe words.” 
You run your hands up to his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. Tracing his scalp over your fingertips. You don’t want to go this slow, the breaks are killing you. You just want to feel him. You want to feel him on you, in you, taking you completely as his own. 
His kisses finally reach the band of your jeans, but that doesnt stop him from exploring further. He pulls down on the jeans to reveal more of your stomach, delivering gentle almost tickling kisses. 
“Green,” He whispers, “Means you like it… You don’t want me to stop.”
His hand travels over to the button of your jeans, popping the metal away from the denim. Your eyes follow him, watching his hair fall over your stomach, the metal of his necklace chilling your bare skin. His shoulders look strong here, masculine, powerful. Watching him focus so intently on you is killing you. This is a man unlike any other that you’ve been with, he’s focused on treating you first, even if there were some other pleasures in it for him. 
“Yellow,” The zipper slowly starts to unravel as he pulls your pants further down, “Means you need me to slow down… If you need a break…” 
Your pants steadily fall off of your legs, finally being exposed to him entirely until they fall onto the floor. The only thing separating you from him now is your thong. Which you are now praising yourself for wearing today. He resumes his consuming kisses across your midsection, joining back down where he had left off. His hands slip underneath him to grab the edges of the lace, sliding off the thong with ease. 
His kisses start to graze you closer to your… 
He stops and lifts himself. His hand leads up to your mouth, putting his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. You accept them, excited for what it means. 
“Red.” His voice develops a more serious tone, “Means stop.” 
He removes his now slick fingers from your mouth, returning them down below. His fingers reach your cunt, and you welcome him with excitement of your own. Your body is in shambles waiting, wanting to know what it feels like. His fingers dance across your aching clit, his thumb padding the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through your deprived body. A loud distressed moan escapes you, you can’t help but express your enthusiasm. 
“Don’t worry sir,” You shudder through achy moans, “I don’t think I’ll need to use that one.”
“Good girl.”
Without any hesitation his fingers breach you, filling you up. He stands over you, watching you grow with the agony of pleasure. Your breath hitches with each pump, your back arching with each lift of his fingers. His thumb traces back over your clit, stimulating every inch of you. 
Every attempt at communicating the feeling faulters, except for, “Oh fuck-” 
Your body is shaking with each movement. He’s painting the perfect picture of an orgasm with just one hand. The power he holds, the knowledge he has. He knew how to please you better than you knew how to. 
His free hand makes its way around your neck, gripping it, holding you in place so he can work harder at you. You’ve never been choked before, it’s a completely new sensation. The gasps for air were something you thought you’d fear, but instead, you were wishing he’d hold on harder. 
“Green?” He asks, looking for permission. 
You nodded your head ferociously  
You feel yourself completely letting go under his control, something you feared once to let him have all the power. But here, now, held down to his desk… You never wanted it to stop. 
“Words.” He barked. 
Your hand reaches up to hold his wrist, “Yes, yes…” 
“Yes, what?” He asks again, his fingers slowing their movement. Clearly, he wouldn’t be letting you get away with anything. You had to be obedient and do as he told you.
“Yes… Please, Sir,” You beg. 
The words were getting harder to communicate. If he could finger you into oblivion, you might let him if it meant you could feel this good again. 
He smiled in approval and resumed his previous pace. Steadily building faster, and faster. Harder and harder. You could feel how wet you were becoming, it really didn’t take much for him to draw the excitement out of you. The swirls of his fingers and the vigor of his motions were precise… Calculated, trying to accomplish only one mission; and he was close to succeeding. 
Your moaning only got more frequent and louder, you couldn’t hold back. The pleasure was far too great to stay quiet. He almost let you be loud too, only for a few moments before reminding you of your location. He lifted his hand off your neck to lift a single finger to his lips and then pointed around the room. 
“If my good girl can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to make her. We don’t want anyone spoiling all the fun.”
You nod your head, remembering you were still in his office. Your surroundings had escaped you completely; only thinking of him and you. 
His thumb started to apply more pressure, practically begging for you for more. A softer moan forced its way out, helpless to be silenced. His hand plasters itself over your mouth, holding you silent. The pads of his fingers resting deep into your cheeks. 
“I know baby, it’s so hard… You’re gonna be so good and come for me now, okay?” 
Finally being relieved of speaking, you nod your head, ready for the climax. His fingers dive upward, grazing the sweet spot buried inside of you. The pressure, the sensation it’s all too much. You feel your belly tighten, your back arching. He’s trying to hold you steady as you writhe in pleasure. There’s no stopping anything now. 
“Do it baby, come on… Be a good little slut for me…”
Your eyes roll deep back into your head. You feel the sweet sensation of release wash over you. Like a wave of ecstasy, traveling from your toes, past your aching clit, through your belly, all the way to your head. Stifled moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. His fingers stay at their steady pace, pushing past your orgasm. You feel yourself dripping around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, you’ve never felt the devotion to make you feel this good. Your body is quivering around him, unable to shake the overstimulation. You’re squeezing onto his wrist, trying to come down easy, but everything he’s doing is making the sensations crash into you. 
He takes his hand away from your mouth and you immediately gasp for air, trying to find serenity. 
“Oh god,” You moan, “How did you-”
He shuts you up by taking his mouth to your soaked cunt, sliding his tongue through the mess he made. You place your hands beside you to sit up slightly. This was a sight you did not want to miss. You take his hair in your hands and tuck it aside. Each stripe of his tongue makes you wince, you want him to stop, but you can’t let him. It feels too good. It’s too much but just the right amount all at once. 
He was consuming you, desperate to explore every inch of you. Wildly eating you up, trying to capture every last drop of his work. You were spilling into him, it was never-ending.  It was like you weren’t even there; everything except your pusy. This was a high that you never wanted to come down from. He was devoted to keeping you there as long as he could, but you couldn’t hold on for more. 
You fell back onto the desk, squirming through it all. He had you right where he wanted you. You let yourself fall into him, trying to take it all. Your hands reach over the desk, trying to find somewhere to hang onto, but instead knocking the scotch glass off the desk. Shattering loudly beneath you. 
Jacob didn’t stop though, he was completely distracted, locked in. You couldn’t take it anymore. 
“Yellow.. Yellow..” You begged, completely overstimulated and shocked. How could you even ask for that?... But it was impossible to withstand any more sensation. 
He stopped slowly, easing you out of the enjoyment. His hands reached up over your thighs and rested on your hips, slowly petting them with his thumbs. He looked up at you through glazed-over eyes, completely drunk on your arousal. He didn’t want it to end. 
Slowly raising himself back to a standing position, you could see how hard he had gotten. He felt just as much pleasure as you did. He was completely lost, coming back to reality. Chin dripping with your wetness… 
He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily. The passion was more fiery than before. You did something to him and he did even more to you. It was strange to taste yourself on his lips, but exciting nonetheless. You were caught up together. Complete and one at that moment. And then it all stopped… 
Footsteps approached outside the classroom. You both stopped. He removed himself from your lips and raised his head to listen. 
A knock at the classroom door. 
“Hello?” Someone called out. 
There was no mistaking that someone was in this office, between the music, the glass breaking… They knew. 
“Everything okay in here Kiszka?” 
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He stands and reaches for his shirt, buttoning it with no haste. He grabs your shirt and pants and kicks them under the desk, “Go, get underneath the desk,” He whispers, “Now.”
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