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traffic-was-a-b1tch · 27 days

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anthem of the heart

(jake kiszka x reader) 18+

summary: you and your best friend move into a new apartment after college, wanting a fresh start in nashville. however, you come to find that your neighbors are musicians. very loud musicians who like to keep you up at night. especially one, who likes to bother you on purpose. you would hate him… if he wasn’t so hot.

warnings for overall series: eventual SMUT!!!, angst, mentions of past abuse (not jake), abuse (not jake), mentions of past sexual assault (not jake), sexual assault (not jake), enemies to lovers, cursing, let me know if I missed any. (i’m still making this series up as I go along so it might change)

warnings for this chapter: bitchy jake (iykyk), slight arguing, let me know if I missed any.

author’s note: heyyy guys! this is my first ever series! i’m super excited to write it and I think its gonna be a fun one lolz. please feel free to give me feedback, requests, comments, etc. enjoy!!!!

• • •

Chapter One:

your pulse beat rapidly. you couldn’t believe you were actually doing this.

you put the last of the moving boxes on the couch and looked at kaylee. your smiles radiated as you took in your new place. the two bedroom, one bath apartment stared back at you.

the walls were painfully white and bare, but the dark blue couch added much needed color to the middle of the living room.

“it’s not much to look at right now”, she started, “but I think we can work with it.”

“let’s hope”, you laughed.

of course you both could work with it. y’all could turn a dumpster fire into a trendy café. you distinctly remembered that your dorm was in a similar condition y’all’s freshman year of college. and let’s just say you had to fix a few nail holes and tear off so much wallpaper when y’all moved out.

“I got it!”, kaylee gasped, “dark blue and white chevron!”

“chevron? are we in 2014?”, you gave her a look.

“oh please, you know I know best. here”, she positioned you to where she was standing by your shoulders, “look now.”

after a few head tilts, you hated to admit it but, you were starting to see her vision.

“hmmm ok fine. but the couch would have to go there”, you pointed, “and the lamp there against the wall.”

she gave your shoulders a squeeze and rested her head in the crook of your neck, “awe you finally trust my artistic eye.”

you shrugged her off with a laugh.

“you know things will be better, right? he’s not here to bother you, and you get a nice fresh start.”, she added hesitantly.

right. one of the main reasons you left your home state after college, your ex. you tried to push him out of your mind, nodding at kaylee.

you tried to focus on the room before you. your mind was starting to race with ideas and approaches, and the place was slowly piecing itself together.

the rising excitement was going to keep you up all night.

or so you thought.

you would have a different enemy tonight.

after hours of planning with kaylee, you finally started to get tired. the long hours of the day suddenly hit you and all you could think about was your mattress. it was on the floor as of now, but it never looked more comfortable.

after doing your skincare, getting in pjs, and brushing your teeth and hair, you laid down on the bare mattress. your eyes were slowly drooping as you started to slip into sleep.

just then you were startled awake with the sound of a guitar.

what in the world?

you waited for a second, thinking it was just your mind playing tricks. then, a second strum of an electric guitar echoed through the wall.

it was followed by a riff, cool and sharp, ripping through the quiet night. then came drums, pounding a dull beat that the guitar followed.

the music was good, great even, but it was too late for it.

you sat up, annoyed and tired, and looked over at kaylee, who had woken up from the same sounds.

“ugh. your first roommate duty.”, she grunted, pointing at the wall the music was coming from.

“no way, kaylee. are you kidding?”

she pointed again at the wall, strictly.

you rolled your eyes, standing up to stretch.

“ooohhh mama”, a man’s raspy voice came in with the music.

you cursed as you walked out into the hallway, not wanting the confrontation but needing sleep. the neighbor’s door reverberated with the vibration of music, making it obvious where the musicians were stationed.

you sighed and knocked at the door.

no response. just music.

“la di da di da oooohhh”, the singer’s voice was clear and distinct, mocking the guitar’s strums.

you knocked louder, growing frustrated.

suddenly, a voice interrupted the flowing sound and one by one the instruments stopped. the music ceased, and you could hear footsteps growing closer.

the door opened slightly, giving you a view of half a man’s face. his dark brown eyes sweeped you up and down, and you abruptly became aware that you were at their door in a big t-shirt and sleep shorts. a little embarrassed, you crossed your arms in front of you.

“can I help you?”, he asked, annoyance dripped from his husky voice.

“um- hi. sorry, me and my best friend just moved in next door.”, you pointed to your door.

his neck craned to see, opening the door a little more. you took in his appearance. the brown hair draped over his shoulders, reaching his upper back, was flowy and dark. he had on a black button up only buttoned to the middle of his torso, exposing his tan chest.

damn. he was attractive.

your eyes traveled further down, spotting an electric guitar hanging on him.

so this was the guitarist.

he looked back at you expectingly, waiting for an explanation.

“anyway, we were just going to come ask if y’all could quiet down just a little bit. it late and we have long days tomorrow and we would just really appreciate it.” you smiled sweetly, sort of wishing he found you attractive the way you found him attractive.

he raised his eyebrows, looked you up and down again, and turned to face some other men in the room. you could only see their heads, but you saw three men standing around instruments in the cramped apartment.

“what do ya say, boys? should we keep it down?”, he murmured, his voice mysterious and yet sweet. the other men laughed half-heartedly from inside, causing the man at the door to chuckle.

he looked back at you.

“look, sweetie. we are a professional band and we need our practice. now, we only can get together at night. so, what do you suppose we do, hm? stop our productive, important practice for you and your little friend to get beauty sleep? I don’t think so. we haven’t gotten any complaints yet, so I think that you just need to go back to your apartment and invest in some earplugs if it bothers you that much.”

you were taken aback, mouth slightly open in shock. you’d have never guessed such rude words would fall out of his beautiful mouth. he looked like a dream, but acted like a nightmare.

“well”, you started, unsure of how to respond, “I guess i’ll be the first to complain.” you lifted your chin up defiantly, not letting him see how much he disappointed you by being rude.

his eyebrows dropped, his face forming a deep glare.

“now then, let’s not be rude here.” he was testing you, seeing how confrontational you would get.

“yes”, you smiled sarcastically, “let’s not. so, practice is cancelled tonight?” you looked behind the man and into the room to see three slightly shocked faces.

one of them, with a seafoam green bass in his hand, broke out into a smile, “well i’m free tomorrow at noon.”

“shut up, sam.”, the man at the door barked, looking back at him.

“oh, give it a rest, jake. you know we can postpone and be fine.”, sam added.

oh, jake was the man at the door.

“yes, jake”, you cooed, “let’s postpone, hm?”

his eyes found yours, surprised and slightly impressed at your tone. his hard mouth slowly let up.

he scoffed, “you playing with fire, baby. be careful.”

your eyebrows raised, testing him to try you. you backed away, eyes never leaving his, and walked the four feet to your door.

the last thing you saw was a glimpse of his eyes following you into your apartment.

the intensity of the encounter haunted you, playing back in your head over and over. you leaned your head back onto the door, waiting for the music to resume. waiting to see if he had the gall to keep playing. still after a minute or two, there was nothing but silence. you sighed, sluggishly walking back to your bed.

then you collapsed, sleep slowly enveloping you into its warm arms.

good, that’s the end of that, you thought.

until you woke up at 3 am, to the sound of a guitar riff.

• • •

eeeeeeeekkkk!!! so excited to start a seriessss. (also please excuse my use of y’all. i’m from the south and it just comes naturally lmao). PLEASE let me know what you would like me to write next, give suggestions, feedback, anything!

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka #daniel wagner #jake gvf #sam gvf #josh gvf #danny gvf #gvf smut #gvf fic

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chouxsardine · 4 months

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Hold Me (2)---Jake Kiszka x reader

PART 2 of My fic for @seenoversundown 's Valentine's Day Writing Event! I choose the prompt: Play Truth or Dare;

Here is Part 1

Summary: "hold me like you hold your Les Paul, have your way with me the way you play her.” || Your drunk slip-up leads to one of the best Valentine's Day gift you've ever got

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 4929

Warnings (for this part): 18+! Minors DNI (this is 4000+ of pure smut), dom Jake/sub reader, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), penetrative p in v sex, blindfold, bondage (have I tried that tie on myself? yes), swearing, slight insecurity/jealousy, inappropriate use of guitar straps, aftercare, cheesy fluff, Jake singing!

Author's note: sorry that this is late. I was in a dark space mentally for the past few days. But here it is, finally!! Personally, I really like this story. It's a new attempt. I hope you all enjoy it too.

🎧: Someone New by BANKS; Always There by Greta Van Fleet

“Please.” Not only is your brain eager, but your body also aches with anticipation; it keenly awaits whatever Jake is going to give you.

Jake stands up. Him looking down on you makes you press your knees together. Given that it doesn’t happen very often, you marvel at how quick and effortless it seems for Jake to slip into the dominant role.

“On the bed. On your back.”

You wish he would add a nickname to it; even a simple “baby” would do. But you guess you’d have to earn it, don’t you? You silently comply, laying down stiff as a stick. You are suddenly very aware of how naked you are now that your body is pressed against the sheets. The tingling excitement all over your limbs is so loud that they are turning numb.

A warm sensation on your calf almost makes your leg kick out instinctively. You must be too deep in your thought, having closed your eyes.

“Hi.”

You feel consumed when you blink and meet Jake’s eyes. The warm brown color is seeping like blended paint, into the light, into the wallpaper, into the mattress. The soft fabric of his shirt plush on your skin—you just noticed that he is still fully clothed. You squeeze out a coy smile.

Jake dips down, leaving kisses on your ankles. The kisses are carefully choreographed: the wet mark from the last one evaporates as a new one is planted. You warm up as he moves upwards, the vulnerability of being naked disappearing—you are now dressed in his kisses.

The curls at the top of his head tickles your navel when his lips reach the innermost most of your thigh. It only takes two back-and-forth strokes of his knuckles against your panties to unleash the arousal that has been pooling, soaking the fabric, and forming a darker spot.

“Drenched,” Jake appraises in awe, “and I haven’t even touched your upper body yet.”

“Please…Jake, I…” You open your mouth, but you are not sure what you are asking for.

Jake props himself up by his elbows, his face now level with your chest. “And let me guess, I bet these…” he pinches each of your nipples through the bra; your back arches upwards from the shock, “are rock hard too.”

“Jake!” You grab his hands, not caring how pathetic you sound. “The suspense is killing me…”

“Oh, we wouldn’t want that,” Jake quips before lowering his voice, “just making sure that you really want this, angel.”

“I really do, I promise.”

“Good.” Having got the reassurance he wanted, Jake finally reaches for the guitar strap. You hold out your wrist, but Jake shakes his head. He places one end of the strap near your lips. “Hold that for me.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief, but you obey anyway, biting down on the leather. Your left arm is bended across your chest as Jake closes your left palm around the same end of the strap that is between your teeth. He guides your right hand to hold the other end, wraps it over your forearm, and leads it through the loop between your wrist and the strap.

He untangles your wrists, so they are now parallel in front of you, then rolls them outwards from the inside. There, he pauses for a heartbeat before respectively pulling your left and right hands apart. You are surprised to see that the thin leather belt is now wrapped around your wrists in a crisscrossed single loop, secured by both ends that are firmly grasped by you. You are the warden and the prisoner, the lock and the key.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jake squints, admiring his work.

You pull against the restraint. The hold is unrelenting, but it doesn’t cut into your skin. You expected it to bite like a rebuke, but it ends up more like a command. “Where did you learn to do that?” You ask.

“Practice makes perfect, my darling.”

Practice? He practiced this? On himself? Before your mind strays further, Jake gathers the two ends of the strap in his hand, wiggles a bit to adjust the tightness. “Is this alright?”

“Yes.” The knot was mostly behind the joint of your wrist, you can still open your hands.

Jake shows you the next thing he got; it’s a pair of chain collar pin with anchor ornaments on both ends that is connected by the braided sterling silver. That’s one of your gifts for his birthday. Under your anticipated glare, he inserts one of the anchor through the hole at the end of the strap, then raises your arms above your head, where he loops the chain around the metal slats of the headboard, finishing the tie.

“There you go. Snug?” Jake hooks a finger in between your wrist and the strap, making sure there’s enough room.

“Like a bug in a rug.” You meant to lighten the mood, but the nervousness surfaces and makes your voice crack at the end. The realization only starts to sink in now: you will not be able to touch him. No combing through his hair or grasping onto it, no roaming all over his torso, no dragging him down and crashing your lips together. You want to rub your legs together, but Jake is kneeling in between.

“Thinking a bit too hard, are we?” Jake’s finger brushes your cheek. “But tonight, your job is not to think; it’s to feel.”

He reaches over to the bed stand to retrieve a thin piece of fabric, “Do you mind?”

It’s Jake’s infinity scarf, the one that is often paired with his pendant necklaces.

“I still want to see you…” you mumble shakily.

“Hum….with all the little fantasies in your mind, I say you’ve seen enough.” Slowly but surely, the scarf slides over your eyes. Jake holds the back of your neck as he scoops your itchy hair out of the way. Your nose flares at the familiar bluebell scent of the fabric softener that lingers on the cotton. Oh, is this why Jake intended to do the laundry yesterday? Jake is right about using the blindfold; your brain is already too big a distraction, dialling down one of the senses is only going to help you.

“You’re gonna help me out here, y/n. Your eyes are always so eloquent, but since I can’t see them now, you are gonna have to use your words.” Jake snakes a finger in between your fold, you moan out loud at the first proper loving that your pussy has received all night.

“Oh, I will gladly accept that too.” Jake chuckles, his finger presses into you deeper.

You sigh in relief as you finally feel the elastic band of your underwear being tugged down your pelvis bone. You lift your hip fawningly, allowing Jake to slip it off you swiftly. Next off is your bra. Jake was right; your nipples are hard, the tiny muscles red, contracted, and erected. Even the unintentional brush from the bra when it is taken off you feels like a tease.

“I want you, Jake. I want you to touch me.” You whimpers, the frustration building up in you fuelling the fire in your core. Jake leans the root of his palm against your mound, adding just the right amount of pressure to your clit, echoing his finger in you that is pointing slightly upwards. Your desire is sandwiched in between his hand. You feel your body sizzles like a burning hot pan with water splattered on.

“Oh God, just like that!” You whine out loud. The pleasure flashes your mind like a lightning that cracks across the sweltering summer sky, illuminating an image that has been plaguing you. You don’t know what possesses you to speak; you are never overly vocal in bed, but now the urge to convey how good you feel prevails. “It feels like…”

“Yes, angel? What does it feel like?” Jake’s movement pauses, just like the way he is being attentive and tilts his head while listening to you speak. To be fair, in some way, there is a conversation going on right now, between him and you, between his fingers and your pussy.

“The time when you…Aghh! You cup the…the guitar around…” Jake starts moving again, a silent reward and encouragement, “around its body and the neck…Mhmmm…with the, the…” you fumble for the correct term.

“The slide?”

“Yes, the slide.” The fact that he knows exactly what you are talking about turns you on even more. Has he always known?

“I like the way you think, love. Maybe we should try it next time.”

Jake is quiet after that. The mattress dips down further under your legs as Jake finds the comfortable position to rut his hard cock against the bed for some friction. He has no doubt that he will get something out of this too, but not until he gets you where you want. Before that, he can, and he will wait.

His hot breath fans over your silt, hovering over your clit. Your knees draw up but are immediately pinned under his elbow. Jake’s thumb pulls back your hood to expose you more, taking a moment to admire the way your clit peeks out, deep pink and engorged, before having a proper taste. He presses the area above the tip of his tongue against your clit, the velvety flesh pushing the bud tantalizingly.

“O-Ohhh, yes! Feels so good, Jake…More, please, more.”

That’s when you feel another current surge from inside of you. Jake’s fingers never left; you are clenching so hard that you almost forget that they’re there. Now he is curling his knuckle and pressing a particular spot like a button.

You pull hard on the strap. Your arms straightening to the point that it sends a burning pain down your armpits and ribs, which only adds to the mixture of joy. Bubbling groans are pumped out of your throat. All the restraints are making you tensing your muscles more on your own, making all the skin-to-skin contacts buzz.

Jake changes to fully lapping up at you. He drags out every flick, making sure you feel the texture of his tongue.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you are a panting mess, rolling your head on the pillow as you beg.

Jake backs off, even withdrawing his finger too, bringing a string of your slickness with it. “Already?” It sounds more like a rhetorical question, one that is beyond your ability to answer.

You cry out disappointingly, tears dampening the scarf. Jake spreads your juices against your labia, stroking them lazily. His other hand brushes comforting strokes down your sides, taking away the burn.

“You’re really close, I know. But the good stuff is always worth the wait.” Jake crawls up. He kneads and kisses your breasts. He loves the way the base of the softness fits into his purlicue. “We are in this together. Do you have any idea, how it feels to have a sumptuous feast laid out before you, but you have to mind the table manners?”

The thought of him holding back his hard-on somehow makes you find the courage to flirt back: “Well, your meal is begging to be tasted.”

“Very convincing. But manners are to be respected. You are a genteel lady; you know better than that,” the last few words seem to be gritted through his teeth, “I like to enjoy my meal with class.”

When his tongue is finally back on you, the intensity doubles. No, triples. This time his fingers also take a 180-degree turn. The calloused finger pads are reaching as far back as can be, tapping and massaging the bottom of your vagina.

You want to wrap his hair around your fist, claw at his arm, hold onto him so hard that you will leave marks on his skin. But you can do none of that. Your fingers are twisted together, your knuckles turning white. Your toes curling so bad that you might just able to ballet-dance. It’s like sprinting full speed towards a cliff, you know there is only abyss after the final misstep——

“No, really, I can’t—-”

“Let go, darling.”

That’s the exact moment Jake is waiting for. It’s like train hopping, it’s all about finding that pinpoint among the frenzy.

If that orgasm did throw you off the cliff, you didn’t fall. Quite the opposite, you are lifted up. Lifted by the armpits and invited onto the Chariot with the archangels and Apollo himself. Your vision is filled with blinding brightness beneath the blindfold. Waves of pleasure pulsing through your body. Trails of moans and screams are crumbled by your breathing, which has become very vocal. Each exhale is followed by a high-pitched “Mmhhh”. Your chest heaves, your shoulder moving up and down. All the noises are drowned out, except for the ringing in your ears.

Jake’s voice is the knife that cuts you out from the suspended state of bliss.

“You’re okay, love, doing amazing. So beautiful.” He brushes away the sweaty strands of hair that is sticking to your forehead, wipes aways the spit on the corner of your mouth, and is reaching upward to unclasp the strap when you mutter a “no”.

“No? Are you sure?” He already shimmied out of his shirt, his upper body bare, ready to provide you any skin-to-skin contact you need.

“No, please,” you’ve grown attached not only to the control but also the support that the strap provides. That’s what lifts you through the ecstasy you’ve just experienced. A reminder that you’re his, a common denominator between you and his guitar—connected to him, under his mercy.

“No need to beg, anything for my baby girl.” Jake’s eyebrows are knitted in thought, his eyes traveling back and forth between your fucked-out face and your hands that are red and sweaty with obvious signs of struggling. He knows that the strap feels grounding for you, but given your state right now, he doesn’t think you’ve thought far enough about how your arms will feel after another twenty minutes or so in this position. After a few moments, he still removes the collar pin that’s holding the two ends together, and places them in your palms.

“Here, doll. I untied the pin, but you still got the strap around you,” He closes your finger around them, “you can hold onto the headboard, or get yourself out if you want. You take the reins, alright?”

You nod, your heart swells with tenderness of the unadulterated care and thoughtfulness he has for you as you calm down. Your tongue still too sluggish to form coherent words. “Thank…”

“You are more than welcome. Just want you to feel good, love, be safe and feel good. You want the scarf off? ”

“Yes, please. Wanna see you.”

“Me too,” Jake whispers, “close your eyes and don’t open until I say so. The lights may feel a bit too strong for you now.”

Jake’s hand replaces the blindfold as it slides off your face. “No peeking yet.” He reminds.

You keen to the warmness of his touch, your eyelashes tinkling his palm. From the change of light, you sensed that Jake is lifting off his fingers one by one, letting the light refill gradually.

“Okay. Open now, slowly.” Jake says softly.

When you blink open your eyes, Jake’s hand is still blocking the left side of your face where the light is. Your vision are still a little blurred by the tears, which makes Jake look like a deity descending. Your stare at him like he’s the first person you’ve ever seen, like he is the picture you were shown when the word ‘beautiful’ was first taught to you. Your pupils are blown out.

“Hey you.” Jake dabs a few stray tears that have been gathering on the side of your nose.

You finally remember to blink again. You feel the died-down flame inside you reigniting, reinforced by the realization that he has been holding himself back this whole time. You raise you leg, trying to squeeze you toes inside the waistband of his pants, trying to tug it off—your way of urging him without using your hands.

“Whoa, my girl wants more?” Jake quirks his eyebrows in feigned surprise.

You roll your eyes, then remember your task and starts pleading: “Please, want to make you feel good now.” You are about to free yourself from the strap when Jake stops you, something sparkling in his eyes. Now you see why he’s not in a rush at all? He has always known that his girl will take care of him as well. “Want to be inside you, want to feel you around me, may I?”

And he’s talking about you being polite. You respond by raising you neck up for a kiss, which Jake coddles. He seals your lips with his, his tongue gliding past the soft pillow of your lower lip, only to be met with the tip of yours in the same fervent.

His forehead finds yours when he pulls back. “Have I told you how beautiful you are? I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

“You do, baby, you always do,” you are feeling expressive again, your words making up for the touches of your hands, “I feel like an absolute goddess when I’m with you.”

“Thank you, love, that means I’m doing my job well.”

He leaves you one more kiss before taking off his pants and grabbing a condom. You lay back and take it all in, fighting against the urge to keep your hands together. The veins on his hands, on his cock, the scar on his forearm, all woven into a lascivious blur. To be fair, even though you and Jake are together for quite a while, sometimes you still needs to let it sink in that your lover works in a business that is full of temptations and performs in front of thousands of people night after night, but still chooses to come back to you at the end of the day. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not belittling yourself, you just feel genuinely lucky that you’ve found someone who holds onto his true color through it all.

You try not to let your thoughts show, rubbing your knees gently up the side of his hip as he hops back. It may be that you haven’t seen him for the first half of the night, he looks alluring and glowy. His hair is dishevelled, his eyes casting downwards, his lips dewy and pouty. His chest is glistening with sweat, much like the way it is on stage. Your eyes following the bead that is rolling down his happy trial, down to the aroused purple of his cock cupped in his fingers. You gulp in anticipation.

It’s like a circuit running a closed-circle when his tip touches your entrance. You involuntarily buck up your hips. He taps the head of his cock against your clit leisurely, satisfied in the way your stomach rolls.

“Inside, oh God, Jake, come in already.” You bite down hard on your bottom lip.

“So eager for me. Very nice.” Jake takes a hold of the side of you thigh, pushing it outwards as he moves forward. He only goes in a few inches before he pauses and leans back, his eyes fluttering closed at the long-awaited sensation, taking deep breaths to get a hold of his bearing.

“Heavenly.” He utters to himself. When he comes down again, he holds himself a little higher, makes it intentional to grind down forward and over you, making sure his pubic bone is pressing down on your clit.

You feel the leather of the strap wrinkled in your palm, becoming damp and slippery. The sparkly titillation shoots up your navel. You heels graze the sheets harshly, plowing the mattress. When he finally bottoms out, you immediately cross your ankle over the small of his back, locking him to you.

“You feel so, so good.” Jake’s voice trembles. He lowers down his body plush against yours, his elbow on either side of your head. He goes in for another kiss and starts rocking weightily. You strives to keep your eyes open, studying his face and looking for the similar expression he has on stage. God, you hope that you are making him feel equally as good. Tears are threatening to well in your eyes as the thought occurred. It’s so unnecessary and irrational, but you can’t help it. The next moment, you get rid of the strap urgently, leaving it bundled up beside your head. Your hands fly to his back, fingers digging into his shoulder, grabbing his bicep.

Jake doesn’t even flinch. For you, his psychic ability is crazy. As if reading your thoughts, he takes one of your hands and places it right where his heart is. His mouth was right by your ears, his voice a whisper but reverberates in your whole body, every word underlined by a full-length thrust.

“All, my, love.”

Your eyes widen before you shut them tightly. A solitary tear still manages to escape, but is instantly drained by a kiss. Jake catches your chin: “Eyes on me, love.”

You do, giving in to that sea of satin-smooth caramel. He is right here, in you, above you, with you. His beating heart thumping under your touch, so lively and so sincere. What more could you be asking for?

You jaw hangs slack, immersed in the moment, feeling how good he is stretching you, feeling his heartbeat strong and fast. Jake raises up your butt, allowing him a better angle to thrust in deeper. He was rolling his hip, so each pump lingers. Your heels are knocking on his back, his balls are thrumming against your perineum.

Jake reaches down between where you are connected, but you bring it up to your lips, mouthing at his knuckles: “I…wait for…let me cum with you, want to cum with you.”

Jake takes a gasp. His eyes narrow. “Fuck, you’re a such vision.” He throws back his head, his breathing turns ragged as he plunges into you faster and harder, setting off a spark at your every nerve-end.

“Almost there, come with, baby.” He hissed out. His movement now messy, falling out of pace. His hand still goes down to your clit, and this time, you let him. You cover his hand with yours and just rest them there, letting the pounding of his body provide all the impact you need. Your fingers lacing and squeezed between your mons.

Jake purses his lips together, his beautiful nose scrunches up, his hair bouncing on the side of his face as he lets out a guttural growl. He comes in shuddery jerks, the spasms of his cock hauling you with him. Your orgasm, white-hot, whirlwinds over your body. Not as deafening as the last one, Jake’s weight anchors you.

It is incredibly intimate, your skin sticking, the up and downs of your bellies inescapable from each other, keeping each other warm from the feeling the cold film of sweat by being so close, so aligned. You are still holding hands. As Jake rolls off you, he kisses the back of your hand, wet and sloppy, like leaving a seal.

The room is quiet again. For a while, your jagged breathing is the only sound you hear. When your senses are restored, the first thing you feel is Jake’s nose. Starting from your hairline, the tip of his nose is tracing down your face, nudging yours, skimming over your cheek. You giggle, pulling him down and fondle with his damp hair.

“Only for you, love. Haven’t done that to her before.” Jake says, and you know that “her” is referring to the guitar.

“Oh lord. Please, never do that. Only for me, please.” You roll your eyes.

“Just kidding, doll. I have to say she makes me feel good too, but never quite the way you do. Nothing, ever, makes me feel this way like you do.” His tone turns really serious near the end. He picks up the strap that has been long ignored, examining it before letting it slip through his fingers and dropping to the floor. “I guess you did your little trick, huh? How can I go on stage now, with this draping over my shoulder, without thinking of you?”

You never thought that far. Well, it might be hard for Jake, but damn, you could live with that. You flash him a languid smile, stifling a yawn.

“How does a bath sounds to you, sleeping beauty?” Jake pulls himself up, holding out his arms to you.

“Heavenly.” You smile, allowing him to cradle you as he walk towards the bathroom.

A fluffy towel is draped over you to keep you warm as you sit on the toilet seat, watching Jake preparing a bath. He sits down first, holding you steady as you step in and lower down. You lay down against him, your head on his chest.

“How’s your wrists?” He straightens your arms.

“They’re fine.” You let him inspect the skin around your wrists; he takes the opportunity to pamper the skin with sweet pecks.

“Remind me to put some lotion on them after we get out.” He mumbles. You hum half-heartedly, knowing that it will be an empty promise because you will probably fall asleep mid-bath. Plus, it really doesn't hurt at all.

Jake is quiet after that. You let the comfortable silence mingle with the rising steam from the tub. His heartbeat is accentuated by your ear, rhythmic and reassuring, like waves. The best kind of white noise.

The next time Jake speaks, he is just speaking under his breath. You wouldn’t be able to hear him if you weren’t this close. Half the sound is rumbling deep in his chest. For sure, he has been mulling over what to say for the past few minutes. He is as much of an over-thinker as you.

“I hated it as much as you do when I have to leave, you know that.” His head is burying on your shoulder. Knowing what he’s taking about, you turn pink in embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby. Forget that, I’m just being stupi—”

“Human,” He interrupts.

“What?”

“You are just being human,” Jake’s voice hangs low, “that’s what I want you to see tonight. It’s a completely human thing to have desires, fantasy, as well as feeling jealous and insecure.”

“Unless you’re a secret vampire and has been hiding it exceptionally well all this time, which I’m also fine with,” he banters, drawing a laugh from you, “but given all the spicy films and books that people write, I think even vampires have those feelings too.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you answer coyly, “it’s just all in my head. I hate overthinking, but you know I trust you, Jake, I really do.”

“Of course, y/n, of course. And to be frank, sometimes I get jealous of you too.”

“You do?”

“You have no idea. Do you not realize the exceptional work you’ve done with your job, and what a wonderful person you are? All I do is just…” He gestures with his hands, “fiddling with some strings.”

You jokingly swat him away for the nonsense. Jake pecks at the nape of your neck, “drawing the ugly and beautiful side from us, stripping us bare and all…Love really is a bittersweet thing, hey? I guess that’s why Josh has so much to say about it all the time.”

You giggle at the slight dig on his brother and join him when he is humming that line in The New Day:

Love isn’t greed it’s a need that goes unspoken love doesn’t leave when you fade away Pain isn’t vain if it means your heart’s been broken Pain is the same as a means to heal

You lean back in his embrace and relax, feeing all the nerves uncoil. Your limbs are growing heavier by the second. Jake’s skilled massage on your scalp is just so soothing. You are dangling on the edge of slumber when you feel Jake draws your left arm out to the side, his left hand holding your left waist, his right hand holds against your breasts. You are too tired to open your eyes, leaving him to his manoeuvre. It takes you a while to recognize those taps on your wrist as guitar chords: G, F, C, and back to G again; and that makes his movements on your chest…strumming*. Meanwhile, you hear the low register of Jake singing.

You’re the woman in my dream One that makes me fall in love…

Your brain pick up on the familiar melody. Always There, but he changes the lyrics. You crack open an eye, stuttering: “Jake, what are you…?”

“Shhh…” He kisses your earlobe, shushing you as he continues.

Stay a while in your slumber Tumble under And never wake Dream forever in your wonder We’ll never sunder Into the day Into the day …

Eventually convinced, content and care-free, your brain quiets down and decides to stay that way for quite a while. Love seeps through every fold and wrinkle, saturating them with Jake’s name, and becoming entangled with your rising serotonin. And just like that, you are blissfully falling asleep, much like the way you fall in love with Jake: slowly, and then all at once*.

---------------------------------

*1: inspired by @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth 's fic I’m Gonna Crawl Chapter 17

*2: the infamous quote from The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, pg 125.

If you're wondering about the tie, here's the visual for it, inspired by DPR Ian's Don't Go Insane belt dance that is trending now, choreography by sooram

taglist: @gretasfallingsky

Yeah! you made it! Thank you SO MUCH for reading :))

any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated.

My other works: Permission to Fall || Mariner's Complex || Ticked (all my boxes) || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones || Coming back to me || Warm Honey || He Would

#greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet imagine #gvf x reader #gvf fic #jake kiszka fluff

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