#sam kiszka
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The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 3)
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader
Word Count: 19.8k
Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Oral M! Receiving, Protected Sex.
Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify
A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.
"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."
AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS
HER POV
The heat of your breath is fogging up the windows of the van as you drift in and out of a dazy snooze. The morning has already been long, with a wake-up time of 3:30AM to be on the van to the airport by 4:00AM. The flight to Amsterdam from Hamburg was short, only a little over an hour long, thank goodness. However, now all you can think about is getting checked into your hotel room and crashing back out for a couple of hours before you have to wake up again.
Paul, Wes, and Corri are occupying the seats toward the front of the van, and you’re thankful you can let your head rest on the window in peace. Your AirPods are stuck in your ears with the volume just loud enough that you could hear if one of them spoke to you, but still enough to fully enjoy the music floating through your ears. You don’t even dare listen to the playlist Jake made for you, it almost puts a sour taste in your mouth just looking at it, especially after what happened last night.
Of course Josh caught you. Of course it had to be him. But what is really still throwing you for a loop is why Josh felt he had to keep the encounter such a secret, locking his lips and doing away with the key.
Jake hadn’t said anything about your last addition of ‘High and Dry’, but you chalked it up to him just wanting to diffuse the situation after you left the bar, alone. You thought he might walk you back, given the situation you’d found yourself in just two nights prior, but he didn’t. He stayed, and let you go. And thankfully you’d made it back safely by yourself.
The more you think about it, the more you realize Jake had plenty of time to text a quick ‘Sorry about that’ or ‘We’ll talk tomorrow, goodnight…’ but he didn’t. Again. Just left you….high and dry. And what made it even worse was that as you were trying to fall asleep in your hotel room last night, you heard the faint sound of the song playing out in the hallway. Jake was coming back to his room, listening to the song you added for him as he meandered closer and closer. But instead of a knock on your door, all you heard was the latch of his closing.
You find yourself feeling a little pissed off, because the moment you shared in the dark bathroom really felt like something. It was…very fucking hot, if you’re being honest. He felt good. He felt strong, and sturdy, but also gentle and delicate when he needed to be. You can almost still feel how he felt between your legs, pressed up against you as you sat on the edge of the sink. His hands on your back, mouth on your neck, fingertips digging into your thighs….
“Y/N! Let’s get out of here!” You hear Corri’s brash voice wake you from your rated-R daydream, and you have to blink a few times to get the image of Jake all over you out of your head. You stretch a little and pull the music from your ears as the cab light comes on, and the four of you exit the van. You check into your far too luxurious hotel room, and crash onto the bed without even bothering to change your clothes.
—
Your alarm startles you two hours later, and surprisingly the cat nap has you feeling extremely refreshed. You jump from the bed and pull the curtains on the window, showing you the scene of a cloudy Amsterdam from your fourth-story room. You can feel the cold air moving through the window, and you know it’s going to be another bitterly chilly day.
After a quick rinse-shower, you sit back on the bed to check your phone and emails and see you have a text from an unknown number from just ten minutes ago.
Unknown
9:02AM: Hey! We’re going to go see the city and walk around a little, you want to go?
You deduce that it is probably Mia or Lyla, and you contemplate on whether or not you want to even move from your bed today. But after a little thought, and another glance to the sun barely peeking through the clouds, you decide, why the hell not. You don’t want to see Jake, really, but the regret you’d feel for not seeing Amsterdam while you’re here would probably be worse. You send up a quick prayer that Josh will keep your secret today, and not make things any more awkward than they already are.
You
9:04AM: Hey, sure! I’d love to 😊
Unknown
9:05AM: Cool! We’re leaving in an hour, we’ll meet up in the lobby. Dress warm!
9:05AM: This is Lyla, btw
You
9:06AM: Sounds great, see you in a bit
You lock your phone and stand up to finish getting dressed, adding on a few more layers to your already warm attire. Your stomach churns with nerves, but you’re excited to see the city and maybe get to know the girls a little better. Plus, Ruth is begging you for photos.
Speaking of Ruth…
You grab your phone and pull it from the charging cord, bringing up her contact for a FaceTime call. It rings out, and you press your eyeball directly to the front camera lens.
“Shit, what the hell, cyclops!” She yells as you pull away snickering.
“Why is it so dark in your room?” you ask, realizing you hadn’t even thought about the time difference.
“Because it’s two o’clock in the fuckin’ morning here, dimwit! I answered because you scared me. Are you okay?” she spouts off with her voice cracking from sleep.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Yes, I’m fine,” you laugh a little as she rubs her eyes in the light of her phone screen. “I’m in Amsterdam, thought I’d give you a rundown but, you need to go back to sleep,” you say.
“Ugh, if I didn’t have to wake up in three hours for work I would disagree with you. Yeah, just text me. Actually no, that will take too long. Send voice memos. Or a video or something.”
You take a quick breath. “I have a lot to tell you, Ruthie.”
“Fuck, seriously? Damn it, just…send something I don’t care. I gotta know. Is it bad news? It’s good news, right?” she goes on.
You roll your eyes a bit as you place your fingers over your mouth. “It’s…a lot. Good and, well not the best. Go back to sleep. I love you.”
“Kay nighty night.” Her last words were said with her eyes closed, and you know for a fact she’s already drifted back off into her slumber.
You plop onto your bed and scroll social media for a few minutes as you try to kill time, feeling your stomach start to growl and grumble against the mattress below you.
Maybe you should you add a song?
No… You’d be seeing Jake in the next little bit, and you were the last one to make contact. This is up to him, if he even wants to. You stand and grab up your long, heavy coat, making sure you have everything you need for the day before taking off to the lobby to grab a quick breakfast and wait on everyone else.
—
JAKE POV
The music swirling through the steamy air comes to a close as you spin the handle on the shower faucet, the water slowly trickling to a stop. The song she sent last night has been stuck in your head since you hung up with Isla, and you have let it be the soundtrack to your life in the hours since. You spent nearly the entire shower thinking about Y/N, listening along to the track and letting it seep into your bones. You thought about her, and only her for the past few days now. How you left her last night, and how you have yet to speak to her since. Even the plane ride this morning was spent in silence. You knew you needed to answer her song, say something to explain yourself. You were going to, you just had to figure it out, and now that you had time to sit down and think about it, uninterrupted, you would.
Get out, dry off, get dressed and answer her. You had a plan, and you were sticking to it.
You step out of the large walk in shower, wrapping the fluffy white towel around your waist. You take a second to look at your surroundings, remembering how only a few years ago you were all bringing towels from home, feeling lucky enough to shower in a rundown Motel 6 bathroom in the middle of nowhere. Your life had changed drastically in a matter of years, and it wasn’t long into that success when you first met Isla.
She was a vision of auburn hair as she swept through the bar that night, so light and so carefree. You could see why Lyla and Sam had befriended her, her personality very much the same as theirs. It wasn’t long after that night that the two of you started seeing each other, things quickly becoming serious. A year later she moved into your house. It was like she was always there, making the space her own and sharing her days with you. She was with you as the band really started to make moves, never once complaining about the late nights or the long stretches of tour, that is, until she did.
Things started to change last summer. The once light and vibrant girl you fell in love with had become catty and accusatory, her light burning out and her desire to be something other than your girlfriend dwindling away to nothing. It became her, consumed her, and suddenly you became an accessory instead of a partner. Nothing seemed to satisfy her anymore, and the time you could give her was never enough. She reminded you of that, often, as if there was anything you could do to change it. You fought like cats and dogs on any given day, each argument always ending in a band-aid resolution that never got you anywhere.
There were the big ones, the ones that would have you on the couch at Josh’s or in the guest room at Sam’s. The ones they didn’t ask about because they knew better, instead opening their homes and lending their liquor cabinet. The ones that you didn’t dare mention, even months after the fact, for fear of starting it all over again. Those fights started to get closer and closer together, until you found yourself almost needing to chip in for your brothers’ mortgage payments.
You knew it was done. You knew it was over, but the problem wasn’t that you couldn’t do it. No, the problem was that every time you would try, it wouldn’t stick. Listening to her tell you that your reasons were never good enough, or that it would be too hard to end things before you left. It was always before you left, and this time was no different.
Your phone buzzing on the bathroom counter snaps you back to reality, watching as it slowly inches its way closer and closer to the edge. You snatch it up as your hair drips down your back, sliding your finger across the glass as you scoff at the name on the Caller ID.
“Hello, Josh.”
“Oh, so they didn’t invite you either? Assholes…” he grumbles under his breath.
“Invite me where? Who?” you ask, making your way back into the room.
“Sam and Daniel, and the girls I guess…” he pauses, “Just checked their location to see if they wanted to get brunch and they fucked off into town without us. Not even an invite.”
“Really?” you ask, pulling your phone away from your ear to check your texts. “Shit, yeah, I didn’t get a text from them either. Though, I did tell them I was gonna catch a few more hours of sleep when we got here. Can’t you just go with Ty?” You groan, knowing you really planned to stay in your room all day and binge watch Criminal Minds.
“No. He went for a massage a little while ago, so now you have to go with me,” he says matter of factly.
“Do I? I don’t think I do, actually.”
“No, you do, it’s in the rule book,” he answers, an air of playfulness in his voice.
“The rule book…Don’t think I got one of those,” you joke, pulling on a pair of boxers.
“Yeah, they give it to the head twin, you know, the first one out,” he laughs. “I’m in charge, the book says so, and I say brunch with a Mimosa. If you’re good I’ll even get you a Bloody Mary, my treat. Meet me downstairs in like fifteen,” he says, ending the call before you even have a chance to decline. Fucker, he knew you too well.
You quickly dress yourself, checking your phone no less than five times just to see if maybe she had said something, but still there is silence. Your plan has officially gone to shit, no surprise there. You promised yourself you’d do it when you got back. No excuses. You huff out a sigh as you spray your cologne, grabbing your wallet and your phone and shoving them into your coat pocket. You make your way downstairs to meet Josh, finding him lounging in a wingback chair nearly double his size.
“Let’s go before I change my mind,” you offer, watching him spring out of the chair, his white Nike’s scuffing loudly against the marble tiles.
“Did you text Dean?” you ask, pushing open the glass doors.
“Yeah, the place I want to go is just a block away, said to call him if we need him but keep our wits about us. Told him I would, but can’t speak for you since you don’t have any.”
You stop walking and start to turn around, definitely not in the headspace for his antics today. He stops too, and you feel him grab your arm and sling you back in the right direction.
“Alright, alright, sheesh, no games today, got it,” he says, feigning guilt.
You walk in silence the rest of the way, ducking into a little cafe with a heated patio. You felt like you hadn’t seen the sun in days and both of you quickly agree that the patio might be your only chance.
Your eyes scan the menu, looking for any words that seem familiar to you. You’re about half way through it when Josh pulls your menu down and looks you in the eye. You know what he wants, and you know you have to tell him, but you need a drink first, at the very minimum.
Saved by the bell your waiter comes to your table, taking your drink orders and rushing off before you could blink.
As expected the grilling starts, and much to your dismay you are alone on the patio with no chance of anyone hearing the two of you bicker.
“Alright Jake, I let you sleep on it. Time to talk,” he starts, crossing his arms over his chest.
You rub your hand over your face, truly not knowing where to begin. You let out a sigh, and he seems to pick up on your inner turmoil.
“Start wherever, but I would probably choose the beginning.”
You move your fingers to your lips, looking at him with challenging eyes “What is it exactly that you want to know, Josh? I mean–”
“Cut the shit, Jake. What is going on? I want everything, top to bottom, now,” he snaps, aggression present in his tone.
“You’re mad for no fuckin’ reason, Josh!”
“No, I’m mad for great reason, Jake! You’re out here fucking around with our runner, two days into the tour mind you, while your girlfriend is back in Nashville living in your home!” he seethes, his fists clenched tightly on top of the white tablecloth.
Your blood is boiling as he finishes his tirade. “Knock it the fuck off, you know damn good and well she is not my girlfriend anymore!”
“Do I? Do I, Jake? Last I heard, you were ‘easing off for a little bit’...” he replies, gesturing air quotes.
“Do you honestly think that I would have been living in your house for the last month if we were ‘just ‘easing off’? You retort, gesturing the same air quotes.
Josh sits back in his chair a little, his aggression backing off just a little bit, enough for you to keep talking. “Explain.”
You blow out a breath of frustration, “She doesn’t get it, Josh. I can’t seem to get it through her head.”
“What?”
You bite your lips together before you answer, “I have tried to end things no less than five times in the last few months. There’s always some reason… Always something that…Fuck, I don’t know. It just never sticks. She won’t hear it,” you pause, “I was serious this time though, Josh. I told her point blank, I do not want to be together anymore. It was like I was speaking fucking Latin, she refused to hear me. We were up the entire night arguing, man. It’s… It’s just so done, and I’m the only one who can see it apparently.”
“So if she won’t accept it, you’re still technically together, though? She’s still in the house?” he asks, rubbing his fingers over his beard.
“Yeah, I mean, I guess? But also, No? The only way I could get the fuck out of that house in time to make it on the plane, was by agreeing to a ‘break’. But it’s not a break. I’m done, she knows I’m done. Told her she could still live in the house for a bit until she found her own place, but I told her, point blank, we needed to separate. No contact. You can see how that is going for her.”
“Does she know that you are…you know, seeing other people?” he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice.
“Am I supposed to care? We aren’t together!” you argue.
“But you kind of are Jacob!” he spits, “Look, I’m not trying to like, take her side here or whatever, but if she is under the impression you two are only on a break, I highly doubt she would be okay with you seeing other people. You’ll be labeled a cheater and god knows what else if she catches wind.”
“This is the messiest shit I have ever been a part of. I swear to god…” you groan, rubbing your hand over your face. “I seriously never thought I would find myself going through something like this.”
His brows pinch together in confusion, “So why didn’t you just say straight up, I want to separate, please move out of my home?”
“I mean, I kind of did, I think. It’s so much more complicated when you’ve been together as long as we have. We’ve had the exact same argument hundreds of times, that’s no exaggeration. She lives with me, man… I can’t just expect her to move out overnight, ya know? Which is why I agreed to the break. To give her time to…Get her shit together, I guess. But she knows I’m out. She has to know.”
“But she is still calling and texting you daily?” he asks.
“All fucking day everyday. I never reply, and she still continues. As if– as if nothing ever happened. Like I said, she is just not getting it,” you explain. “Every time I would come stay at your place, she would just… come up with some reason, or some excuse to get me to come home for a few nights. We would just bandaid the problem, until it just exploded again and I’d end up back at your house or at Sam’s. But I had to be careful at Sam’s because Lyla is her best fuckin’ friend. You’d think she would have caught the drift after so many nights of me crashing there that things weren’t good. I don’t know, I hate this shit, I have suffered long enough. I want out. And I fear that when we get home, I might have to take more drastic measures. And I don’t want that shit, either.”
“So things are a lot worse than you initially led on…” he states, shaking his head as he sips from his glass.
“Yeah, I guess so. Shit’s embarrassing, man. It’s rocky as hell and I don’t know what to do. I obviously still care for her as a person, but I just can’t do this with her anymore. I thought this time and space away from each other would help me get my head right and find a way to sort this shit out, but it seems like it’s only gotten worse and even more complicated since even a month ago, before we ever even left,” you continue.
“And now there’s Y/N…” he grimaces, truly starting to understand your predicament. “I mean, it’s really only been, what, two days?”
You let out a sigh and shake your head, “Yeah, yeah. But I can honestly say that I have felt more in the last two days for Y/N than I have felt for Isla in the last year.”
“Do you think maybe… She’s…just a distraction from your real feelings? Like a space filler type of thing while you figure out shit with Isla?” he asks, broaching the subject very gently. “To be fair, I don’t blame you at all, she’s really gorgeous and a lovely girl from the little I’ve talked to her.”
“I know it looks that way, trust me. I do. But, no… It’s something else. I know it's only been two days, but there is something there, and I have to explore it,” you admit. “Like I said, I feel things I haven’t felt in so long. Not just physical things, either. And yeah, I know she works for us, and shit, but I– It was about two minutes into that plane ride that I knew it didn’t matter. I had to get to know her.”
“Answer me this, do you still love Isla?” he asks, leaning his elbows onto the table as he gives you that horribly painful twin stare that you both can only give to one another. The kind that pulls the truth from you no matter how badly you might not want to admit it.
“I mean, I love her as a person, but no, I haven’t been in love with her in some time,” you confess.
“In your mind is there any chance of reconciliation?”
Your mind flashes through a hundred scenes of screaming fights, thrown objects, tears and accusations, “No. Not anymore,” you pause, rubbing your lips. “A week ago if you asked me that, I might have said maybe. It would be so easy to fall back into the good routine we had, everything would be good again for a little while at least, but it would change and we would be back to where we are now. Endless fuckin’ cycle. I can’t do that my whole life, Josh. I don’t deserve that. I was so excited about this leg of tour, just because she wasn’t coming. I could be alone and not go to bed mad and arguing every night. Do you know how fucked that is? That is not how I should feel about the person I am supposedly in love with. I should want her here, and I just don’t.”
He nods his head in agreement, sucking his teeth with a hiss.
“Two days with Y/N has proven to me just how unhappy I am in that relationship with Isla. How much I’m just…not in love with her anymore. It only confirms my decision,” you admit.
“So she’s calling and stuff to try and keep you strung along… So that you’ll come home and pick right back up on this nasty cycle the two of you are in…” he questions.
“Basically. Which is why I refuse to engage with it. She can text all she wants, I’m not answering her,” you snap. “Things aren’t black and white for her, they are very gray and for me they are stark white. I don’t know how to make it more clear.”
He drops his head and looks up at you as he leans on his elbows again, “Look, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I won’t say anything to anyone about last night, or whatever is going on with you and Y/N. I want you to be happy, and I can tell you haven’t been in a long time. I’m just really sorry I was such an ass. I wish you would have talked to me, you know, like we used to.”
“I know, I know. It’s my own pride that stopped me. I just, I feel like I'm on the precipice of being happy again, I just have to keep following it, even if it looks really bad from the outside,” you pause, “Also, you guys have to stop picking on her, she is innocent in all of this. She already thinks you guys don’t like her.”
“Oh, that's just not true, we all like her a lot, you have to tell her we don’t mean it,” he laughs, tilting his head to the side as he tosses back the rest of his mimosa. “Wait, does she know about Isla?”
“No, absolutely not,” you answer a little too quickly.
“Are you… planning on telling her?”
“Honestly, I haven’t really thought that far ahead, I mean, I know I need to. I wasn’t really planning on Isla blowing my phone up day and night. Guess I should have known better, huh?” you laugh, offering him a small smile.
“You need to tell her, Jake. Don’t fuck it up before you even get things started,” he offers.
“Don’t you know that’s my specialty?” you ask, sipping your spicy bloody mary. “I mean, last night is a whole other problem. When you saw us out there I had every intention of leaving that bar with her and taking her back to the hotel. It was all I could think about. But then you were out there with my phone and the shit with Isla. Fuck…I panicked. I just sent her back to the hotel. Left her out to dry like a fucking prick. Haven’t spoken to her since. She probably wants nothing to do with me at this point.”
“No, no I doubt that. She’s probably a little hurt, maybe a little confused, but I think she will come around. I saw the way she was looking at you last night,” he smiles. “But Jake, seriously. You have to tell her about Isla.”
“God, I know it just, why would I even be thinking about Isla when I’m with her? I swear it’s like none of it exists when we are with each other. Everything is easy.”
“Sounds like you found yourself someone special,” he smiles.
“I think you’re right.”
—
HER POV
The morning had been spent walking up and down the streets of Amsterdam, getting lost and finding your way again over and over as you navigated the map app on Danny’s phone. To your surprise, Jake and Josh hadn’t joined you. Just you, Sam, Danny, Lyla and Mia. It felt a little strange at first, and you felt the fifth-wheel anxiety hit you hard as you trailed behind them, the two couples happy and holding hands as you all explored. But luckily, at the last second, Dean joined you on the excursion, insisting that five of you needed an escort.
You’d taken the time to speak to Dean and get to know him a little; he’s a big burly man with cheeks that stay red and a beard and mustache that hide his mouth. He’s middle aged, and a man of few words, but you were determined to break through his exterior just a little bit, seeing as how he is one of your coworkers.
Now, as you all are heading back to the hotel with your arms full of various shopping bags and leftover food cart goodies, the conversation you’d worked so hard to start up with Dean is flowing freely. The two of you converse about the job, about travel, about where each of you are from and how you got hooked up with these crazy four. He’s fairly easy to talk to, and you find yourself very calm in his presence.
“I heard about what went down at the restaurant the other night, Ms. Y/N. I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he admits as you watch Lyla and Mia pull the guys into a tiny boutique.
“Oh, no need to apologize,” you respond, a little surprised, “It was no big deal, really. I made a stupid mistake by going out alone that late, I learned my lesson. Just glad Jake was able to come help me out.”
“Still, it’s one of my responsibilities to make sure everyone is safe. Mr. Jacob made it very clear that you’re on that list, too.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and pushes a few buttons before speaking again. “I’m gonna get your number right now, so you never find yourself in a situation like that again.” You nod as you agree, knowing that you should have had his number saved a long time ago. You switch phones with him as you each enter your respective numbers, and he smiles as he locks his, pushing it back into the pocket of his coat. It hits you that Jake must have had a conversation with him.
“We’ve got more security coming, I’m sure you’ve heard. They should be here within the next few days. This is usually a one man job, but… I guess as the band gets more and more popular, these kinds of things just need to naturally grow along with them,” he explains, keeping his head on a swivel as he eyes each of them inside the store. “Turns into a team effort.”
You nod, pushing your windblown hair behind your ear before shoving your freezing hand back in your pocket. “I did hear about that. Bet it brings everyone peace of mind having more hands on deck, especially you,” you offer.
“Mmhm,” he replies, “Most definitely. I’ve met these guys before, think everybody will like them. Real straightforward outfit. I’m their head of security, but with the way this group operates, they’re probably gonna be calling most of the shots, if not all of them.” He sucks his teeth, and you can’t tell if he’s irked or maybe, a little bit relieved to have the help.
“You gonna be alright with that?” you press, hoping you’re not stepping on his toes.
He shrugs one shoulder, and you can see his eyes darting around behind his sunglasses. “I’m only one guy, Ms. Y/N.” His response is blunt, so you decide to leave it at that.
You take a second to browse the boutique, meeting up again with Lyla and Mia and gushing over sweaters and dresses that none of you could ever afford, and for the first time in two days, you’d gone more than half an hour without thinking about Jake. As soon as the memory of him and what happened last night flows back into your brain, you almost double over with a strange anxiety. You pull out your phone again, checking to see if he has texted at all, or added anything to the playlist, but you’re met with nothing. Nothing.
“Let’s go get a drink or something!” Mia finally suggests to the group as you congregate in front of the store on the sidewalk, and everyone agrees. “Danny baby, pull up somewhere to go.”
“Let’s just take off walking again, we passed like fifty pubs on the way here,” he argues, bursting through the group and walking down the sidewalk again. The tension feels like it has dissipated for the most part; you have to admit that at first you were still a little worried that things might be a little strange between all of you. But as soon as you all got a couple of drinks in you, the anxiety melts away, and you find yourself laughing along and fitting right in with them. The girls are really cool, and Danny and Sam together keep the conversation going with ease.
An hour or so later, you’re unlocking your hotel door and stripping the layers of clothing off as you now have gotten a little sweaty from the heat mixed with the alcohol. The sun had popped out a little, only adding to your need for a giant bottle of water, and to relax across your bed. As you scroll social media and flick through TV channels in languages you can’t understand, you find your mind drifting back to Jake again. At this point, you know he isn’t going to text. He isn’t going to call, he isn’t going to add another song. If he was going to, he would have by now. You swallow down the realization, flipping to your back to push a pillow over your face. You think about calling Ruth, but at the same time, you hardly even feel like talking about it.
Just as you're about to scream into the void, you hear a knock at your door. Who in the world? You stand up and adjust your clothing and hair, expecting Corri or Paul to be delivering you some information in person. You unlatch the deadbolt and swing the door open, finding none other than Jake leaning with one hand on your door frame, and the other gripping a single deep burgundy flower.
“Hey…” he mumbles, biting his lip.
“Hey, sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” you fumble over your words, not only because you hadn’t spoken all day, but because he looked so overwhelmingly delicious standing there effortlessly dripping sex in your doorway that you almost catch yourself drooling. Loose, dark slacks, a black button up revealing his chest, his hair freshly washed and still damp around the roots… His skin is still glowing from the heat of his shower, and you can smell his body wash mixed in with that damn cologne he apparently carries with him everywhere. Your eyes flick to the flower hanging loosely from his fingertips before meeting his eyes again.
“I know, I should have called first, ‘m sorry…” he stumbles, pulling his hand from his pocket and swiping it across his nose.
“No no, it’s fine, um… did you need… you wanna come inside?” you weren’t quite sure what to offer at this point; he wouldn’t have shown up if he didn’t want to talk.
He stands up straight now, smoothing his hands over his shirt and then placing them both in his pockets. “No, actually, I came by to see if you would want to go on a walk with me,” he asks, a shyness in his tone that feels new to you. “And to bring you this.”
He extends his hand, offering you the dark red flower, multi petaled and fragrant. “Saw it earlier at a flower stand and I…I don’t know, I thought of you. Thought you should have it.”
You accept it from his fingers, bringing it to your nose to take in its earthy smell, “It’s beautiful, what is it?”
“It’s a Dahlia, I believe. The vendor said it was a Black Dahlia, but it looks dark red to me. I don’t know, I just thought it was pretty. Thought of you.” he smiles nervously. You stare at him as you twist the flower under your nose and think about his question.
“So, a walk?” you reiterate, finding the idea both exhausting and appealing, seeing as how you had just gotten back from an extremely lengthy one with everyone else. “I really should stay in tonight, I… dunno…”
“Please?” he asks, squinting his eyes. “Just a short one, we don’t have to go far. I just– I saw something cool today, and I thought you might like to see it, too. Wanna show you…”
You huff a little as you lean your head on the edge of the open door. His eyes are pleading, and you can tell there’s more to his little plan than simply showing you something.
Maybe he wants to talk. Maybe he wants to explain things… sort it all out…
“Okay. We can go. But, I have to get dressed first,” you say, already dreading putting all those layers back on, but not feeling so bad about it because now you’ll be with him. You feel a little reluctant, the pissed-off feeling you’d had all day still lying heavily present in your mind. But, he’s making an effort, at least…
“Take your time. I’m just a floor up, 507,” he starts to back away, the tiniest satisfied grin forming on his face. His eyes travel up and down your body so fast you almost miss it. “Just come knock when you’re ready.”
You close the door as he rounds the corner to the elevator, and you can’t help but feel that rush of nerves fly up your body again. He didn’t call, he didn’t text, he came to your door. With a flower. God, what a gentleman. You place the flower on the dresser, your heart pounding at the sweet gesture. You rush into the bathroom to freshen everything up and spruce your tangled hair, brushing some powder across your face and adding a little more mascara. You re-apply your favorite perfume to your wrists and neck, taking a little extra time to make sure you looked presentable in the full-length mirror on the wall.
When you feel as if your appearance is as good as it's gonna get, you sit on your bed, wanting to make Jake wait for you just a little bit longer. You go ahead and pull up a facetime call with Ruth, waiting for the tone to ring out.
The screen opens with Ruth holding up one finger, mouthing for you to hang on as she finishes out what looks to be a very annoying phone call with a client. She spins in her chair as she rolls her eyes, letting her head look at the ceiling as she uses her formal, professional voice to end the call.
“...You have an excellent day, ma’am. Mhm. Thank you, Buh-bye,” she presses a button on her phone and rips her headset off, fumbling for her airpods as she picks up her phone. “Oh my GOD today has been insane and I hate everything,” she complains as you watch the screen fill up with her face, and you hear the sound of her acrylic nails tapping all over her screen. You patiently wait, watching her loudly chew her gum, knowing that she has to clear away her notifications before she can even begin to have an uninterrupted conversation with you. “Okay I’m ready what the fuck has happened?!”
You laugh, giving her the rundown of everything that happened since you last spoke, her facial expressions letting you know she is hanging on your every word. “...And now, he just showed up at my fucking door, and asked me on a date, I guess? After basically dry humping me in the bathroom then sending me home without another word,” you finish, whispering your words as if he could hear you. “I dunno, Ruth. Should I even go?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?! Yes you should go. Give him a chance to explain, at least. He wouldn’t have shown up to your door if he didn’t really want you to come, ya know?” she says, immediately noticing her word choice, and slyly smiling as she bounced her eyebrows.
“Shut the fuck up. Ugh, yeah, you’re right. Does this outfit look okay?” you stand back and flip the camera around showing her yourself in the mirror.
“Slayyyyyyyy that jacket is hot, where on earth did you even get it?!” she rolls her eyes.
“From you. For my birthday. When you found out I was going to a colder climate,” you laugh. “Okay, I'm gonna go, I guess. I’ll text you later.”
“Live updates, please. I want to know the way this man ticks,” she teases.
“Shut up. Bye.” You end the call and grab your purse, making sure your room key is in your bag. You also make sure to grab the jacket Jake sent you home in last night, not able to bear another second staring at it draped across the back of the chair.
—
“Thought you might want this back,” you say when Jake opens the door, taking the coat from your outstretched hand.
He smirks as he takes it, tossing it behind him to land on some unknown surface. “Looks better on you, but it’s one of only three jackets I brought with me.” You both laugh a little as you make your way down the hall and to the elevator. The whole ride down is silent, with both of you standing at opposite sides, more or less feeling no shame in drinking the other in. His arms and ankles are crossed as the elevator descends, and you can feel his eyes boring into you.
“You look really nice today,” he offers as you exit the lobby and head back out into the freezing cold air.
“Thank you,” you reply shyly, feeling the blush creep to your cheeks. “So do you…” you wanted to gush about how perfectly his hair is sitting around his face, how his shirt and jacket are hanging across his shoulders, how poised he just always seems to be without even trying… but you don’t. You hope to god you don’t run into any of his brothers, or anyone that you work with; coming up with an explanation why the two of you are out alone together again is something you truly don’t feel like dealing with right now. “So where are we going?”
“It’s called The Jordaan. It’s a really old neighborhood, with a canal going through the center. Bunch of little shops and stuff. Did you guys walk this way this morning?” you notice the lilt in his voice.
You shake your head. “No, we went the opposite way,” you answer. It’s quiet for just a minute more as you pass by the crowds and other people on the streets. “Why didn’t you and Josh come along?”
He takes a quick breath. “Eh, we didn’t really receive an invite, honestly,” he laughs, stroking his fingers over his mustache. “Had to be Lyla or Mia’s idea to go, if I had to guess.” He was right, but you still felt bad. “But it was okay, me and Josh went to eat and got to… talk a little without the interruption of the other two. Kinda rare these days,” he smiles, and his knuckles brush across yours just barely. The light touch sends your bloodstream to a raging fire, and you have to stifle down the pull to grab his hand altogether.
The sun is peeking through the heavy cloud cover of the evening, and you find yourself staring at the way Jake’s pulled his sunglasses to sit on top of his head, letting the gleam of the sunlight bounce into his mocha colored irises. He looks you in the eye each and every time he speaks, and commands your complete attention away from everything else around you. You’re pulled into him, letting your bodies barely touch and move together as you walk along. This attraction feels different than the heated, blurry, intense pull you had to one another last night. This feels innocent, even though you both know that it’s anything but.
You turn a corner as you come along to the long line of homes and buildings, multicolored and old in their exteriors but, still holding just the right amount of charm to be an attraction. You catch yourself looking above to see the craftsmanship of them. “Wow…” you exclaim quietly as you peer up at the finely detailed architecture, staring in awe at the shape they are still in. You pull your phone from your pocket and start to take photos, zooming in on the details and making a mental note to send them straight to Ruth later.
You walk up onto a little footbridge lined with parked bikes and people stopped to take photos. Suddenly Jake is behind you, barely resting his chin on your shoulder. “Gimme your phone, let me take your picture,” he murmurs in your ear.
“Oh no, that’s okay…” Before the words can even escape your lips, he’s snatched your phone and started backing up, glancing behind him and back to your phone every few seconds.
“You’re really good at taking my phone away and doing whatever you want with it, you know!” you yell at him in aggravation.
He motions his free hand for you to scoot sideways, and then again for you to stop where you are. He snaps a few, turning the phone on its side to get every angle he can. You stand a bit awkwardly, hating that people are having to stop when they notice they are walking in line of the photo. Finally he finishes and rushes back over to you. “They look good! See?” he says, handing your phone back and swiping through them with you. “Now you’ll have record.”
You walk past a few secondhand shops and stores, and suddenly, something in one of the windows catches your eye. “Oh my god, look at that!” you squeal, pointing to a glimmering red dress sitting perfectly on a mannequin. It isn’t like any dress you’d seen before; it looks vintage, bright cherry red velvet with sewn-in sequins weaved throughout. It’s tight, but not too tight, and short and lacking fabric in all the right places.
“Damn, you should go try it on!” Jake exclaims, obviously agreeing with your surprise at how pretty it is.
“Nah, I shouldn’t…” you say, walking away from the window.
“No, you should, actually. That dress is hot, Y/N,” he says, elbowing you in the ribs. “And I think you’d make it a hundred times hotter.”
You scoff. “Be quiet, no I would not.”
“Prove me wrong, then,” he challenges with a smirk, opening the door to the shop, and holding his hand out to invite you inside.
You step inside, and are immediately greeted by a man dressed in a formal tuxedo. He notices that you are not local during his greeting, and switches to rough English.
“Eyeballing the red number, are you madam? Give me one second, I’ll grab it off the mannequin for you,” you and Jake lock eyes as the man flits away, straight for the window. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation and gives you a grin so adorable you almost melt into putty right there in the store.
“Here you are ma’am, please, be careful, very old dress,” he explains, handing you the dress on a hanger and opening a curtain for you to go behind.
“Go ahead,” Jake mouths, pushing you into the small dressing room.
You stand almost naked in front of the mirror as you slip the soft, tight fabric over your thighs, your stomach, and finally over your shoulders. Jake was right, it fits you perfectly. The velvet material snatches your waist and bust, and cuts right above your knee. Its sequins shimmer in the overhead light, but aren’t so overwhelming that it looks showy. It’s something you could dress up, or dress down. You reach behind you and pull the zipper up only halfway. Of course.
You take a deep breath and pull the curtain back, finding Jake to have taken a seat on a plush maroon ottoman. His jaw drops as you walk toward him, and yet again, you feel the heat rise in your face. You continue walking toward him, turning at the last second with your back to him, pulling your hair to the side. “Finish doing me up?” you say, immediately realizing that could be taken in a way you didn’t really mean. But also kind of mean, if you’re being honest.
You hear him swallow and he stands, and feel his warm hand slowly grip the zipper and pull it up, his other hand resting gently on the back of your hip, this thumb barely squeezing at the muscle. He takes his time, moving the zipper at the slowest pace imaginable. “Everything alright back there?” you whisper over your shoulder, hearing your own voice tremble.
You hear the air push from his nose as he leans in a little closer. “Just taking my time… might be the only time I get to touch you this way…”
Your eyelids flutter closed at his words. You lick your lips, trying to calm your second heartbeat. “What makes you think this will be the only time?”
He finishes the zip, spinning you to turn and face him. He shrugs one shoulder. “Just don’t wanna get my hopes up,” he growls. “Take that as a compliment…if you wear that out in public, I wouldn’t stand a chance against the hordes of guys that would be following you around.”
You scoff at him, and the absolute absurdity of his statement. He has no idea how pretty he is, does he?
“Shh. That’s a lie,” you say as you turn back and motion for him to unzip you. He does, this time with a little more haste. You make your way back into the dressing room and switch back into your clothing, hanging the beautiful specimen back on the hanger the man had provided you with.
“What? You’re not getting it?!” Jake stands as you make your way back toward the employee.
“No, Jake! I can’t buy that! It’s too–”
“Perfect? Because you looked… I–I can’t even explain… You have to get it, Y/N,” he argues.
You hand the dress back to the man in the suit. “No. I wouldn’t even have anywhere to wear something like that…” you go on, internally screaming at how badly you really would like to have it.
“Let me get it for you, then,” Jake says. “It’s not even that expensive…”
“NO!” you squeal. “I mean, no thank you. Please, Jake. It’s completely fine,” you say as you begin to walk toward the exit. You simply could not let him buy this for you. No. Huh-uh. Absolutely the hell not.
He reluctantly follows you out of the store, still playfully going on and on about how you just made a huge mistake. You turn and face him, your face only inches from his. You grab both of his hands in yours, snickering a little at the surprised look on his face. “Jake, I appreciate the compliments, but I’d really like to get on with our date, now.”
JAKE POV
Her words send a shockwave through your system. “Date? So it’s a date now?” you ask, your hands cupped in hers as he looks you in the eyes.
She turns and begins walking again, and you have to physically tell yourself to move your legs and follow along. “You came to my door, asked me to go on a walk because you wanted to show me a certain specific special thing… now we’re exploring and talking and trying on dresses, I’d qualify this as a date,” she turns and gives you a teasing look of intrigue. “Just missing the food part, but I think it would still count.”
A smile comes to your lips as you realize she’s right. “You hungry?” you ask, finally catching up with her.
“No, I’m just kidding. Let’s go down to the riverside,” she points a little ways away, seeing that there is a sidewalk that runs alongside the water.
You stuff your hands in your pockets as you trudge along, the two of you taking in the scenery and the water beside you. The air is still blowing cold, but neither of you seem to mind. “So if we’re gonna qualify this as a date, maybe we should get to know each other a little better,” you suggest, earning a scoff from her.
“Seems a little backwards seeing as how we kinda already–”
“I know, I know,” you laugh. “Um, let’s see. Did you play any sports in school?” you ask.
“I played volleyball all four years, golfed with my dad on the weekends sometimes when he was around… Other than that, not really,” she explains.
“Shit, don’t tell Danny you like golf,” you go on. “He’ll capture you in a week-long conversation and then ask you to go play a round in every country we visit,” you laugh.
“Ummm, what’s your favorite holiday? And you can’t pick Christmas…” she says, pushing her pointer finger into your shoulder.
“Hmm, so, I think it’s a tie between the Fourth of July and Thanksgiving, because in July we’re always out of the country somewhere really beautiful, or we’re all at home blowing shit up together. I’m always really happy that time of year. And then Thanksgiving, because I will eat the fuck out of mashed potatoes any chance I get,” you say.
She laughs again, the sounds of her voice making your insides warm. “Your answer was better than mine!”
“Let’s see… What's your best friend’s name?” Noticing that she hasn’t really mentioned anyone.
“My best friend’s name is Ruth, we’ve been friends since elementary school. She’s… a complete idiot,” she laughs. “We still talk pretty much daily about anything and everything,” she explains. “Don’t have any secrets.”
“Oh so, she’s… getting the rundown of your whole European adventure in real time, isn't she?” you ask, wondering if she had been giving her a play by play of the whirlwind last few days you'd shared together.
She purses her lips and squints her eyes as her hand brushes past yours. “Guess you could say that…”
“Damn!” you laugh, feeling embarrassed. “Don’t tell me you included our bar bathroom escapade…”
Suddenly she’s tripping over her words. “I mean... No! I told her a little but like, not details or anything ya know, but she…I–”
“So she knows we almost hooked up but thankfully stopped just in time that my brother didn’t catch things getting too out of hand…” you say confidently, wanting to see the blush rush her cheeks again.
She stops, standing stiff in her place. “Okay, Jake. Caught me. Sue me, shit.”
You continue walking, pulling her along by the hand. “I’m kidding, I don’t care. I hope to meet her one day.”
She looks at you from the side of her eye, “I hope you do, too. Okay, who’s your best friend?”
“You really want me to answer that?” You’re surprised she can’t already tell. “I’ve got three built right in. All three pains in my ass but I love ‘em.”
“How sweet, Jake. Man, you do have a heart under there, somewhere!” she teases.
“Of course I do baby, I’m actually a sweetheart, didn’t you know?” you respond in a very piratical voice. “Alright, favorite music genre. This is the big one, answer carefully…”
“Ahhh, well…” she looks to the ground, truly contemplating her answer. “You already know the Alt-J stuff you added was way out of my normal choice, I actually listen to um, a lot of harder stuff, I guess you could say. Some metal, hard rock, also older country, some psych stuff. It runs the whole gambit,” she laughs, seeming like she was shy to admit it all.
“Wow,” you say. “So like, almost the exact opposite of what we’re into.”
“Kind of, I mean it probably overlaps… I love the stuff you’ve added to the list. And I’m sure there’s a few classic dad rock songs you like, don’t lie…” she smiles.
“Ehhh,” you argue, “Maybe a few…” you feel a sudden slight disappointment in the fact that the two of you probably will not be able to talk music much. But, that’s okay…
“Me and my dad used to go to rock shows a lot when I was a kid. I’ve seen all the country greats a few times a piece. Just something about that sound, you know? Reminds me of home, it’s very nostalgic… I’m sorry, I’m rambling…” she says, brushing the hair from her face as you find yourself enraptured in her words.
“No, no… it’s okay, ramble on…”
Light bulb.
You sneakily pull your phone from your pocket, adding that very song to the playlist, hoping she won't notice right off the bat, but hoping she will understand soon that you would listen to her ramble all day long. As she continues to talk, you can’t help but notice all the ways that she is so different from Isla. Like night and day. She listens to you when you speak, she doesn’t ever come at you with condescending words unless she’s being playful, she is sure of herself, and confident…and gives you that feeling down deep in your gut that tells you she’s something special. Though you’ve only known her a few days, it’s already obvious that she offers every single thing that Isla doesn’t, never has, and most likely never will. Instead of the uneasy, walking on eggshells feeling that you have everytime you’re with Isla, you get the confident, self-assured and joyful feeling in Y/N’s presence. And something is telling you to hold onto it.
Speaking of Isla… you really need to tell Y/N about her. It’s only right. It isn’t fair to her that she doesn’t have a clue, you wouldn’t have wanted to be left in the dark if the roles were reversed. You swallow, opening your mouth to start the conversation without having a clue where to even begin. But your thoughts are interrupted by Y/N’s sweet voice bringing you back down to earth again.
“I know you bargained for a short walk, but what if we went up there to that little pub and see what they have to offer?” she asks, smiling a toothy grin.
Maybe the time isn’t now…
“Lead the way, love.”
—
HER POV
Warm. Everything is just so warm. Your body, your face, his smile. Warm. The room is a dull hum of noise around you, your world growing still as he sits in front of you. You watch him in wonder as he talks about music and his passions, your face propped up on your fist. You know you must look positively smitten, and to be honest you kind of are. The two of you are giggling back and forth, even though nothing is really that funny. But that was the beauty of it. You can tell you are blinking slowly and try to reign it in as the nearly half a liter of beer swirls through your bloodstream. You can’t help but smile at him while he talks, his eyes locked on yours as a smile stretches across his own face.
You wonder how he is even able to hold a conversation right now, your brain reduced to mush as you continue to sip on your beer. He’s happy, you can tell, a dimple has appeared in his cheek and hasn’t left in nearly an hour. You can’t stop looking at it, at him. Everything about him. The twinkle lights over head have cast a perfect yellow glow on his tan skin, just as the sun starts to dip down below the river the two of you walked here from.
“You still with me, beautiful?” he asks, his knuckles brushing against yours.
“I’m here, but barely.” you laugh, “Why aren’t you feeling the alcohol yet?” you tease, taking a rather large gulp of your beer. You know he definitely has a higher tolerance than you do, but you can tell he is a little more smiley than usual. You place the large glass tankard back on the table as he stares at you, his eyes wide and sparkling.
“What?” you ask, feeling a bit bashful in your drunken state.
“You’re just…so– you’re just really pretty and it makes me feel, I don’t know, shy I guess,” he answers truthfully, biting his lips together nervously.
You feel your chest burst into flames, the heat radiating up your face to your already flushed cheeks.
“I like it when you blush,” he breathes, which of course makes you blush harder. “Like it best when it’s because of me.”
You feel all of your nervousness and anxiety melting away as he looks at you, and suddenly with the help of the beer, you feel brave enough to ask the question that has been on your mind all day.
“Jake?”
He nods his head ever so slightly, letting his fingertips drift across your knuckles.
“Why didn’t you answer? My song, how come you didn’t say anything?” you ask, swallowing down your last bit of nervousness.
He drops his head a little, grabbing your hand in his, letting his thumb skate across your skin. “I searched and searched for a song that I could respond with last night. One that would articulate what I wanted to say, but I just…I couldn’t find one. I felt like absolute shit after you left, Y/N. Really, I did. I fell asleep with that damn song on replay until my alarm went off this morning. It got in my head, and that’s when I decided I wanted to go on this walk today. Make it up to you.”
You stare at him for just a second, letting a smile slowly creep to your lips. He notices and you watch him as he visibly relaxes. He was nervous, too.
His eyes are locked on yours, both of you saying a thousand things with zero words. You let his words sink in, storing away each one until your heart feels a little bit lighter.
“Well, you better think of a good one tonight,” you tease, rubbing your thumb against his.
His phone buzzes on the table top, his eyes flashing down to it, then to you in panic.
“It’s fine,” you nod, gesturing for him to grab it. “I don’t mind, really.”
He picks it up and clears his throat, the loss of his hand from yours stings a little but you know he will do it again.
“From Josh,” he starts reading the message out loud, “Where are you? I knocked on your door and you didn’t answer.”
He smiles and laughs as his thumbs type back a response.
“Oh, another one,” he pauses, “We’re meeting up for dinner, just the guys, in an hour.”
His face drops a little, his eyes looking across the table to you. He locks his phone and sets it back on the table, his hand seeking yours out again.
“We should probably get going if you’re gonna make it back in time,” you offer, taking another sip of your beer.
He lets out a painful sigh, “I don’t really want to. I want to stay out…with you. I see them all the time.”
“No, no, no, you’re in Amsterdam with your brothers. They want to see you. Don’t change your plans around for me,” you insist.
He looks conflicted, you can tell he really does want to stay here with you, but he also knows he needs to meet up with them.
“Well, what about you? What will you do?” he asks, tracing his index finger around your hand.
You smile and shake your head, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll probably just go back to my room and do whatever it was I was going to do before you knocked on the door.”
He smiles and nods, licking his lips before speaking again, “If you’re sure, this is supposed to be me making it up to you for leaving you last night, now I seem to be doing it again.”
“Wanna know a secret?”
He raises his eyebrows in question, ready to hear your answer.
“I forgave you for that about two minutes into our walk,” you smile, squeezing his hand in yours.
—
He walks with you back to the hotel, his hand never leaving yours for a second. His grip is firm and warm, everything you ever dreamed of. You talk about the shops and the sights, and he tries again to convince you to buy that dress, bartering that he was going to have to go back and buy it himself if you refused.
As you step up to the hotel door you pause, turning and looking at him in the glow of the streetlights. “You don’t have to walk me all the way up, I think I can find it.” you tease.
“Alright, well, um, can I text you?” he asks, his tone reverting back to that of a nervous fifteen year old boy.
You feel the butterflies taking flight in your stomach, flapping their wings so hard you feel like you might take off with them. “Yeah, you can text me whenever you want to.”
A huge smile spreads across his face, “Yeah, alright, cool. I’ll um, I’ll text you then.”
“I’ll be waiting,” you answer, watching him stifle back his smile as he steps back a bit, bringing your hand to his lips. He places a soft and gentle kiss to the top of your hand, his cold lips barely grazing your skin, and sending a jolt of electricity through you.
“Won’t be long,” he smiles, stepping away and turning to head back down the street.
—
JAKE POV
You follow the walk route to the pin that Josh had dropped, finding yourself at a tiny pub down a back alleyway of a street. The place is crowded and warm, ambient lights with the damp smell of cigars lingering in the air. You mosy through the crowd, hoping that no one recognizes you and stops you for a drunken conversation or autograph.
Luckily it doesn’t happen, and you find Danny, Sam, and Josh tucked away at a high-top table in the corner. “There he is! Took you long enough!” Danny yells over the loud crowd, the first one of them to spot you.
The other two turn to face you, pulling your stool out for you to take. “Your beer is probably warm, now…sorry,” Sam says, pointing to yet another giant mug of beer, just the same as the one you’d just finished off.
“Fuck, thanks…” you say, tiptoeing to hop up onto the high stool. You simply can’t help the shit-eating grin that’s plastered across your face, even with all the maximum effort you have left in you. You take a large sip, finding the beer to still be fairly cold.
“Where have you been already today? You look flushed and far too jovial…” Josh presses, rubbing his hands together with his elbows resting on the table.
“Cold outside,” you say, shooting him a look.
The bullshitting and argumentative discussions commence as everyone obviously begins to feel their alcohol, and you take the distracted time out to text Y/N, letting her know you made it safely.
You
9:18PM: I’m here, but already wishing I never left
You attach a quick photo of your giant beer, and include the eye-rolling emoji.
Y/N
9:20PM: omg 😂 good luck choking another one down
You
9:21PM: Ye have little faith 🍺
A minute later you receive a photo of her room service sprawled out across the bed in front of her, chicken fingers and fries and some type of dipping sauce. You smirk at how cute she probably looks in whatever outfit she chose to get comfy in, and wonder what she looks like. You notice the TV in the background, and recognize the movie that she has playing.
You
9:24PM: Looks tasty
9:24PM: Damn, is that Wedding Crashers?
Y/N
9:25PM: Yes, I fucking love this movie
You run your hand over your face.
You
9:26PM: That sucks, I quite literally can’t stand that movie
Y/N:
9:26PM: 😱😱😱😱😱😱
9:26PM: You’re insane, this is one of my favorite movies of all time! Why do you hate it!
You
9:27PM: Dunno, not a sucker for cheap comedy I suppose
You’re interrupted by Sam’s snapping fingers in your face. “Hellooooo, Jake, you with us? Tell Isla to leave you the fuck alone, it’s guys’ night!”
You feel your eyes widen at his comment and glance at Josh, who is mirroring your exact expression behind his folded hands.
“Uh, sorry, sorry yeah.” You put your phone down on the table and try your best to be present with them, getting caught up in your normal absurd conversation. Your phone continues to light up and buzz on the table.
“You gonna get that?” Josh asks slowly and quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. You ignore him, finishing off the last bit of your beer that went down exceptionally quicker than you thought it would. Everyone is sufficiently intoxicated, and you have to admit, you’re having a really great time letting loose. The drinks are flowing, and the air is high-spirited all the way around. Danny is taking funny videos of Sam and Josh as they try their hand at some type of trick with a coin and a bottle cap, so you take the second to check your phone again. But what you see brings your serotonin level down just a notch.
Isla
10:12PM: Hey, what’s up?
10:27PM: Why aren’t you answering me babe :(
10:29PM: I miss youuuuu, you never called back last night
10:33PM: Saw Danny’s close friends story, glad to see you having fun ignoring my texts! 👋🏼
10:37PM: Can you accept my location request
10:42PM: I can see your phone in front of you Jake
You roll your eyes and mutter a quiet oh…my…god, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands.
“What’s up?” Josh asks, and you turn your phone for him to see. His eyes instantly widen as he reads.
“This…is the shit I’ve dealt with for the last three years. I can’t—” you cut yourself off, feeling your jaw clenching with aggravation.
Josh settles back in his chair. “Fuck, I had no idea…”
“What, what is it?” Sam and Danny basically simultaneously ask, seeing the disdain falling over the both of you at the same time.
“Nothin’, just a sad video,” Josh lies.
You decide to let Isla’s antics roll off your shoulders; you’re having too good of a night to let her whining bring you down. Things with Y/N are starting to heat up, and you find your tipsy self teetering on the edge of risk. You pull her texts up again, finding that she had responded a while ago.
Y/N
9:30PM: You’re crazy, this movie is fuckin hilarious
You decide to change up the game a bit, adding a song that reflects exactly how you’re feeling right now. You scroll through your library and land on it, bringing up the option to add it to your shared playlist. It’s perfect, ‘In the Mood For You’ by The Record Company.
She responds with a text a minute later, a string of five or six laughing emojis. You’re then met with a song addition on her end, ‘Are You Sure?’ by Willie Nelson.
Holy shit holy shit. You feel your stomach get warm and your head starts to swim at the thought of where this could go, where you want it to go. You take a deep breath as the excitement builds in your system, and you can physically feel your body getting warm. You want to scream. Your eyes begin to cross a little as your thumbs hover over the screen, flicking around as you decide what to do.
The next thing you know, Sam is setting another beer in front of your face, this one thankfully much, much smaller than the other one you had just finished off. Mother fucker...Gonna be very drunk.
You decide to skip out on a text, keeping this little game the two of you have going. You pull up the song search, adding ‘No One Else’ by Weezer. Perfect.
Seconds later, you receive a text.
Y/N
10:56PM: I’ll think about it…….
You feel your cheeks grow pink.
Just then another comes through from Isla.
Isla
10:57PM: Ignoring me isn’t going to fix anything, Jacob.
You scoff, shaking your head. You turn the phone to Josh again.
“God, block her fucking number. I’m so serious,” his voice raises a little, laced with a protective tone.
You ignore it, flipping back over to your texts with Y/N, suddenly feeling emboldened.
You
10:59PM: Think about what, exactly?
You lick your lips as you set the phone down, glancing around to see no one paying attention to you all up in your phone again. A minute later, you receive a photo. You click the message and watch as the attachment comes to life.
It’s a selfie of Y/N sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a barely-there black silk pajama set, with the object of the photo obviously the empty side of the bed behind her.
Y/N
11:01PM: You, here.
Son of a fucking bitch, she is gonna be the death of you. You pull your phone up so no one can see the picture, and you take a second to stare at her soft skin in the silk material, her hair a little messy but lying perfectly. She’s smiling just a little, and the dim light is bouncing off her features in all the right areas.
You
11:03PM: Absolutely stunning
11:03PM: Are YOU sure?
Your heart is positively racing, watching as her text bubble pops up.
Y/N
11:04PM: Only if you want to…
As the breath hitches in your throat as you’ve quite literally forgotten how to breathe, you take a second more, starting in on the beer Sam had provided. You lock your phone, trying to make up your mind of how to answer. What to do, what to do…
You finally decide to reply with a bold text.
You
11:06PM: I think I can make that happen…😉
11:06PM: We shouldn’t be much longer
You get dragged back into conversation with the guys, and fifteen or so minutes later, everyone is gearing up to leave. You glance down at your phone a few minutes later, seeing that she hasn’t responded. Weird.
Everyone stands to leave, and the alcohol hits you in the face. Yeah, pretty fairly intoxicated. You exit the building, feeling someone standing behind, close by. You turn to see Dean bringing up the rear of the group. “Whoa, where did you come from you scary motherfucker?” you tease, earning a big, warm smile from him.
“Been sitting at the bar all evening, Mr. Jake,” he responds, pointing for you to catch up with the rest of them.
You rest a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You’re really good at your job, Dean. I never even knew you were there, should have come and had a drink with us.” You feel your words slurring a bit. Just then, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket incessantly.
“I wet my whistle with a shot of Jameson as soon as we got there, water the rest of the night,” he replies without looking at you. You laugh and step to the side a bit, pulling your phone out to see Isla calling. Fucking son of a bitch. You slide to answer it.
“What, Isla? Fuck!” your tone is a bit more harsh than you had expected, but warranted nonetheless.
Then, all you can hear on the other line is a rush of screams and yells, her voice loud and her words cramming as she lets you know how she feels. You pull the phone away from your ear, holding it there until you find a chance to speak again.
“Whoa, whoa, slow down, can you–”
Her screams continue, and you realize exactly how this is going to go. How it’s gone hundreds of times before. She’s not gonna let you speak. And honestly, you’re too intoxicated to talk, anyway. You set it to speakerphone as Josh falls back to walk with you. You shake your head as you allow your twin to listen to her incessant rambling. “You hear this shit?” you mumble. The two of you listen for a second more before you realize you can’t do it anymore.
“Isla, I’m hanging the phone up. Call me when you can have a mature conversation. Bye.” You don’t even wait for her to retaliate before pressing the big red button. In a huff, you bring up your text thread to see if Y/N has responded. Like the gods of divine intervention decided to reign down their bad luck upon you, you find that you had in fact sent those last two risky texts, to Isla.
“FUCK!” you yell, stopping in your tracks, hitting your palm to your forehead. “Fuck fuck fuck!” How could you have been so stupid?! Of course she had a reason to call and yell at you…
Your fingers move to Y/N’s thread, and you see that you were the one who had left her on read. You’re in the lobby of the hotel now, and everyone is dispersing to head to the elevator or down the halls to their respective rooms. You snap away for a second to tell them goodnight, before deciding to take the stairs up to your room. You needed a second, and to work off some of your drunkenness.
You finally pop into your room, feeling completely idiotic for accidentally sending the right text to the wrong number. You splash some cold water on your face, hoping it will bring you back to earth a little bit, but finding it to have only made your splotchy face and tinted cheeks worse. You brush your teeth and take a piss, finally settling on the edge of your bed to think.
Fuck it, you finally decide, bringing up your texts with Y/N once more.
You
11:47PM: I think I can make that happen…
Surprisingly, she responds within the minute.
Y/N
11:47PM: Hey. Thought you had found someone else to sneak away to the bathroom…
Your nerves flush up all over again. We’re still in the clear.
You
11:48PM: Don’t be crazy fledgling. I’m finding you in 5 minutes.
HER POV
Five minutes? Five minutes! You stare at the screen for a few seconds before your brain starts to work again, giving you a mile long to-do list before he knocks on the door.
“What!? What! What does it say?! Hello! Why do you look panicked!?” Ruth asks from the other end of the phone.
“Oh my god, he’s coming to my room. Right now, he’s on his way right this second, holy shit I have to– I have to clean up! I need to brush my teeth, brush my hair? Shit, I can’t be wearing this! Oh my god, shit I do not have enough time!” you screech, tearing across the hotel room to clean up the best that you can.
“Focus on yourself first! He doesn’t care about your messy room! Put on some deodorant for the love of god! Did you shave your legs today?! Wait, did you end up bringing that little black sleep set thing we found?” she asks, trying to help you prioritize.
“Yes! I’m wearing it stupid! Can you not see me?!” you shout, the clocking continuing to tick by.
“Fuck off, it’s blurry! Okay just go brush your teeth, brush your hair, deodorant, then let's work on the room. Hurry up!”
You run into the bathroom, applying deodorant as quickly as possible and checking your legs for stubble. “I shaved this morning, but I think it’s fine.”
“Did you shave…everything?!” she asks, just as panicked as you are.
“Yeah, thank god!” you answer, wetting your toothbrush.
“Okay, game plan, keep brushing, just listen. He’s into you, you’re into him. He’s been flirting with you all night. He wants you babe, and if it were me? Well, I’d do it. I know what you’re gonna say, ‘Ruthie, I can’t give it up on the first date’, blah blah blah, I don’t care, fuck the police. He’s hot, you’re hot, you’re in Europe, and if you don’t sex that man tonight, you might not get the chance to again.” she lectures, giving you a stern look.
You spit your toothpaste into the sink, wiping your mouth and grabbing for your hair brush. You run it quickly through your hair as she continues. “God, I have got to know what this man is like in the bedroom. I am so living through you right now. I expect every detail first thing in the morning. Not noon, not three, morning.”
You grab your perfume from the bathroom counter and hold it up to the camera, “Should I, or too much?”
“Yes, you should, obviously! But don’t overdo it!” she yelps back. You spray the perfume onto your wrists, careful not to spray too much.
“Alright, I feel better, but do you think I should change? Honestly, I feel so…”
“What? Hot, sexy? Drop dead gorgeous? Didn’t have a problem with it when you sent that picture earlier, what's different now?” she asks.
“Well, nothing I guess, I just… He will see me in person. You can see my nipples!” you admit.
“I think he’s gonna see a lot more than your nipples tonight babe, that’s just the appetizer.” she laughs, crunching the ice from her drink.
“Oh my god you are so gross, okay, fine. I just need to clean up the room and little and–”
A knock at the door renders you both silent. You mouth the words ‘oh my god’, as she laughs silently.
“I’ll call you later,” you whisper, quickly ending the call and tossing your phone onto the dresser. You take a deep breath and smooth your hands over the black satin tank top, pushing your boobs up, but letting out a defeated sigh when they drop back into place. She better be right about this.
You blow out a calming breath as you make your way towards the door, twisting the handle and pulling the door open. Leaning against your door frame you find Jake, cheeks flushed and somehow looking even better than he did this afternoon. He’s in the same clothes, and his hair is windblown, but there is something different about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you file it away for later.
You purse your lips in a smirk, “You said five minutes.”
He smiles and nods, “I did, but I had to make a pit stop.”
“What for?” you ask, a playful tone to your voice.
You watch his eyes flick down to take in your appearance, his chest growing as he sucks in a deep breath, “Oh, you know…had to get something,” he pauses, shrugging his shoulders a bit. “Did you make up your mind?”
You bite your lips together as you open the door a little wider, “Mmm, I thought about it…”
He steps forward, his foot on the threshold, “And?”
You instantly reach for his shirt, pulling him into the room and crashing your lips into his. He immediately takes control, leading you backwards and kicking the door shut with his foot. His hands have found your waist, sliding beneath the silky fabric of your top and gripping into your skin. He backs you into a wall, letting his warm lips drag across your jaw as his hands continue to explore the soft skin of your stomach. It’s not long before his lips are back on yours, the taste of alcohol still lingering on his tongue.
His knee slides between your legs, parting them just enough to be able to press himself closer to you. Your arms lace around his neck, your hands tangling into his soft hair, as his hips press into yours. The sound of your lips on his is wet and desperate, the two of you devouring each other where you stand. His tongue slides into your mouth in search of yours, the two of you quickly picking up where you last left off.
You can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket as it presses against your leg, an incessant buzz that drags your attention away from his lips.
“You wanna get that?” you ask, whispering against his lips.
“No,” he growls, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Probably the groupchat, I’m tired of them interrupting.”
He pulls the two of you from against the wall, walking you backwards towards the bed as his lips pepper kisses up and down your jaw. He tosses you down towards the bed, the fluffy white sheets pooling around your body. His eyes are hazy as he looks down at you, his cheeks still red from what you thought was the cold, but now know is the alcohol flowing through his system. His chest is heaving as he stares down at you, taking in every single inch of your body. You can feel the primal need radiating from him, and you remind yourself to thank Ruth for not letting your change into something else.
You can hear that his phone is still buzzing, and with a huff of aggravation he pulls it from his pocket and taps on the screen a few times before throwing it onto the nightstand. He drops to his hands, hovering over you as his shirt hangs from his body. You keep your eyes locked on his as you unbutton the buttons, letting your hands run up his stomach and over his chest.
His lips drop back down to yours, this kiss a little slower and a little more intentional, you can feel that he wants you, and you hope he can tell that you want him just the same. He hums against your lips, the evidence of his need starting to show through in his voice. You let your hands push the fabric of his shirt over his shoulders and he assists by tossing it to the floor. His necklaces hang between the two of you, the pendants cold as they rest against your chest.
His hand comes up to swipe at the thin strap of your tank top, pulling it delicately over your shoulder while letting his eyes meet yours. You nod your head just enough to give him permission, letting him repeat the action with the other side.
He brings his palm to rest on the side of your neck, his fingertips brushing lightly against your skin before he drags his palm down your body, pushing the soft black fabric down your chest.
“This what you wanted?” he hums, dragging his fingertips over your sternum. “When you sent me that little picture? Wanted to get me all worked up thinking about you in this? Thinking about you, out of this?”
Your nipples harden just at the sound of his voice, deep and rich, a gentle slur from the alcohol. He is pure sex as you look up from beneath him.
“Might’ve been…” you answer, biting your bottom lip nervously.
“Don’t do that,” he says, pulling your lip with his thumb. “Own it. Take what you want.”
A smirk is planted on his lips, his hair hanging around his face as he looks down at you. You decide to do exactly what he says, reaching down to the hem of your top and pulling it up and over your shoulders. His eyes drop down to your chest, now completely exposed to him, the lust almost visible in his dark eyes.
“Shit…” he breathes, his tongue wetting his lips.
He slots his knee between your legs, crawling forward a little bit more and dropping down to his elbows over top of you. His lips connect with your chest, sucking a long wet kiss into the roundness of the skin. You squirm beneath him, the feeling of his lips on your body more than you can handle in the moment. He drags his lips down your body, stopping as he meets the hem of your shorts.
“Smell so fucking good…You’re so soft, everywhere… Have half a mind to have you like this,” he pants, pressing his lips to your skin again.
“Come back,” you plead, needing to feel his lips on yours.
He moves quickly, grabbing your face with his hand and pressing his lips to yours. You reach between the two of you, your hand unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning the button on his pants. He groans as your hand slips into the waistband of his boxers, gently grazing the stubbly trimmed hair at his base. His eyes flick open to meet yours, almost as if he is surprised you’re doing what he told you to do. You stare at him, waiting for him to tell you to stop, but he doesn’t. You have the answer you need.
You press further, reaching for him, but surprisingly finding him still mostly soft. His eyes widen a little, and his head drops just a touch. You can tell he knows, and it’s caught him a little off guard.
You decide to take matters into your own hands, smiling back at him, “Roll over.”
He looks up, a small grin on his lips as he rolls to his back, landing in the empty spot you photographed earlier. You move to place yourself between his legs, reaching for the top of his pants and pulling them and his boxers down over his legs. He kicks them off and you toss them to the floor, taking in the sight of him completely naked in front of you. His chest is heaving as he looks at you, a grin on his shiny pink lips as he watches you slide your hands up his thighs.
“I know I already told you this, but you’re so fucking pretty I can’t seem to think straight.”
You can feel your cheeks grow hot, the way he’s looking at you and the words falling from his mouth have your heart pumping harder than it has in years.
“And god when you blush like that, fuck…”
You crawl forward a bit more, positioning yourself over him to straddle his waist. You lower yourself to a sitting position, letting him guide your hips to rest your body weight where he wants it. His hands grip into your hips, sliding under the silky fabric still covering your lower half. His thumbs rub circles into your hip bones, your hips rolling on their own accord against his. A hum leaves his chest as his eyes flutter closed, clearly enjoying his view and the feeling of you beneath his hands.
You reach for his hand, grabbing his wrist and guiding his palm to rest over your chest, letting his fingers grip into the soft fullness beneath it. He palms at your breast as you continue to rock your hips over his. His mouth opens just a bit as he focuses on you, slowly bringing his other hand to rest over your other breast. His grip is firm and warm, not too rough. A hum of pleasure leaves his lips every few seconds as he drinks in the moment, but still yet he is considerably soft beneath you.
You lean forward into his hands, letting your lips brush against his neck, your tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe up the column of his neck. His grip tightens and his hips buck upward into yours. You’ve got him where you want him now.
You pull away from him, moving backwards on the bed until you are hovering right above his dick. Your eyes flick to his, dark and boiling over with want as you lower your face closer to him. You grab him in your hand, feeling that he is still not truly hard enough to do anything with, but you still had a few more ideas yet.
“Can I?” you breathe, whispering the words against his soft pink tip. You bat your eyes at him, “Please?”
You watch his chest rising and falling quickly, his heart rate sky high as he watches you. “Been dreaming about it.”
You let your tongue glide over his tip, warm against your mouth as your eyes stay locked on his. You wrap your fist around his base and let your mouth sink down over him, running your tongue up the underside of his shaft. You can’t help but wonder why he isn’t rock hard at this point, his body giving you every single cue that he wants you, apart from this one.
His hand swipes the hair away from your face as you take him, feeling him growing just the slightest bit harder as his tip grazes the back of your mouth. You pull off of him just enough to speak, letting your wet lips brush his tip. “That okay?”
“Yes, fuck yes, I just–”
You grip your hand into his thigh as you shush him, “Shhh, I know, I’m not done.”
You take him down again, bobbing your head back and forth at a steady pace as his breathing starts to pick up. His skin is clammy under your hands and his chest is heaving as he watches you take him as far as you can.
Your brain starts to wander as you taste him, his natural musky smell translating to the taste of his skin. Maybe he drank too much? Or maybe you’re just bad at this. He should be hard by now. Maybe he doesn’t really want you like you thought.
A groan leaves his lips and his hips buck up, forcing him further down your throat. “Fuck…”
Okay, that's definitely not it. He has been falling all over you for days, it has to be something else.
His hand grips into your hair as his hips buck upwards again. “Feel so fuckin’ good baby, shit. Perfect little mouth, knew it would be.”
You let your eyes flick up to his, staring at him as his tongue rests between his lips. He’s trying, you can tell, but for some reason, it’s just not working. His brow furrows in anger, and you watch as his demeanor shifts, frustration taking him over.
You pull off him, his dick harder than when you started, but still fairly soft. You don’t know how hard he normally is, but it has to be more than this. Right?
“Jake, we don’t have t–”
He shakes his head, “Mmm, you know what? Come up here beautiful, come lay down for me.”
You do as he says, part of you sad to think that maybe you weren’t doing it for him, but you push the thoughts aside, swapping places with him as he adjusts the pillow beneath your head. He bends to kiss you, pulling away for just a second before pressing his lips to yours again much quicker.
“So fucking pretty, all of you. But especially that mouth,” he smirks.
He hooks his fingers into your shorts, pulling them and your panties off in one swift movement. You are bare before him, his eyes widening as he takes you in, finally getting a reaction from his dick. He fists it up and down a few times as he looks at you, “Can I touch you, baby?”
You nod quickly, letting him spread your legs apart with his free hand. A growl leaves his chest as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, “So gorgeous, shit…”
His thumb swipes up through your wetness, circling your clit a few times causing you to squirm beneath him.
“Jake…” you gasp.
His eyes meet yours, “Yeah? You like that? You’re so beyond wet, sweetheart.”
Your hips twist and turn beneath his touch, every angle proving to be more stimulating than the last. You whine, a string of curses and muffled versions of his name falling from your lips.
“You…” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “Are everything I thought you would be. More, even.”
“Jake, please, I– I need–”
He pulls away from you quickly, his hand still fisting his cock as he reaches for his wallet on the floor. He pulls a condom from the pocket inside, tearing the foil packet open as he kneels back onto the bed.
“Let me!” you urge, stopping his wrist, “I mean, please, can I do it?”
His eyes flick up to yours in surprise, “Yeah baby, you can do it. You can do whatever you want, swear to god.”
You grab the latex between your fingers, pinching the tip and rolling it over his cock. It's hard enough now that putting the condom on is fairly easy, but you’re positive he was even harder than this in the bathroom last night. You roll it to his base, letting your hand drift back up and over his chest before circling it around his neck. His hands grip your waist as his lips meet yours again, his tongue circling with yours as he moves you back towards the pillows, gently lowering your body to the bed. “Want you so bad, Y/N.”
“So have me,” you breathe, barely letting your lips leave his.
You welcome him between your legs, feeling his hand reach down to fist his base, gliding himself through your wetness. In only a matter of a minute his dick is softer than it was, and both of you know it, but neither of you are willing to acknowledge it.
His phone starts to buzz on the nightstand, both of you looking towards it. He doesn’t pay it any mind, letting it buzz on the wooden table until it stops.
“Look at me, baby, don’t mind that,” he demands.
You feel him press his tip to your entrance, his eyes fixed on yours. He furrows his brow as he presses his hips forward, but you feel nothing. Your eyes flick down between the two of you, finding that he can’t seem to get hard and stay hard enough to get it in. You feel a pang of hurt run through your chest, almost like rejection, but somehow a little worse.
“Jake, are you not hard en–”
“Just give me a second, I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he growls, his attention turning to the still buzzing phone on the nightstand.
“I mean, I can give you head again if you think–”
“No, Y/N, I just– I just need a second, I’ll be fine,” he says. You can hear the anger in his voice, not at you, but at himself.
“Is it me?” you ask, running your fingers up his arm that is next to your head.
“Fuck no. You are everything I want, wet as fuck and gorgeous, no, it’s not you. I want you, I really fucking want you,” he says, stroking himself a few more times. “Alright…”
He repositions himself at your entrance, and this time you can feel him, he’s harder now, enough to slide into you, but still it’s only just enough to slip inside.
Even half hard he is bigger than the last guy you were with, the stretch as he presses into you making that abundantly clear.
“Oh Jesus Christ, you are so tight,” he pants, his dick hardening a little at the tight fit.
You slide your hands around his waist, pulling him down a little further as he starts to move his hips, “Oh goddamn…”
His phone buzzes twice on the nightstand as he starts to pump into you at a steady pace, but you ignore it, letting the overwhelming feeling of him moving inside of you take precedence in your brain.
He groans through closed lips, his brow furrowed in concentration as he slides in and out of you. He rolls his hips as he thrusts into you, a whine leaving your lips as your back arches.
“Motherfuck, you are–” he stops, regaining his composure, “Tightest fuckin’ pussy.”
Your hands grip into his sides as he picks up speed, his hips slamming into yours as both of you start to lose yourselves in the moment. Finally things felt normal, things felt good, way too good. You wanted this, you needed this, and fuck if he wasn’t checking every box you’d ever had.
He cups your cheek in his hand, dusting his thumb over your swollen lips just as you part them to suck it in. You watch his eyes roll back in his head as he starts to pant, and you can tell he is dangerously close to his finish.
You start to speak, ready to change positions but as you open your lips to release his finger, his phone rings, buzzing quickly across the table as the sound plays through the speakers.
“God fucking damnit!” he growls, “What the fuck!”
“Take it Jake, it’s fine, just– answer and they’ll leave you alone.” you urge, looking to the black phone skittering across the table.
“No, fuck no.” he snaps, his hips emphasizing his point. “I’m busy,”
The buzzing stops, and he looks back to you, letting his hand drift down to your chest. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, letting his lips meet yours. His kiss is wet, and desperate, his hips starting to falter as they move in messy strokes above you.
You can tell he needs to cum, his body racing closer and closer with every half hard stroke of his dick. You can also tell he is fighting it, his face is red, and his hairline sweaty. You know it will be seconds, if that, until he is tumbling into his release.
His eyes flick to yours in panic, an almost apologetic look on his face as he breathes, “Baby, I’m, fuck—”
As if right on cue, his phone starts to buzz, the ringtone blaring through the speakers as his hips stutter, slamming into you again as he looks at his phone on the table. His head snaps back to you, sucking in a deep breath of panic as his hips stop, his cock twitching inside you as he fills the condom with a guttural moan.
The fucked out look that takes over his face is like nothing you’ve ever seen. Reminiscent of a Renaissance painting, the features of his face twist into such a blissful expression that he almost looks like he’s in pain. He’s beautiful, there is absolutely no doubt about that, but it doesn’t change the fact that he just came, way, way too soon.
You are in shock as you lay beneath his panting body, feeling him grow soft inside you once again. He pushes up to his hands nearly instantly, his face riddled with remorse as he realizes what exactly just happened. “Y/N–”
His phone buzzes again, for what has to be the sixtieth time in the last five minutes, a snap of anger washing through you. “Are you going to fucking get that?”
He mumbles a curse under his breath as he pulls out of you, the condom full as he looks at it in shame. He covers himself with his hand as he snatches the phone off of the nightstand and makes his way to the bathroom. You can feel the embarrassment swirling through the air as you hear the sink in the bathroom turn on.
You grab the sheet at your feet and pull it up over your naked, unsatisfied body, trying to wrap your head around what exactly just happened. You try to catch your breath, the sound of your breathing filling the room but quickly drowned out by Jake’s phone ringing. This time though, he answers.
“Hello?!” he shouts, his anger apparent. “Yeah I’ve seen him fucking calling, I have been busy goddamnit!”
You hear the sink turn off and the toilet flush, followed by the sound of his footsteps walking back into the room. “Yes, I will call him, Jesus Christ, don’t ever blow my shit up like that again,” he snaps, ending the call. He pauses as he walks, a hand towel in his grip as he taps his phone screen.
You hear another call ringing out, but this time he's the one doing the calling. He walks over to you with the phone on speaker phone, a look of sadness on his face as he slowly approaches the edge of the bed. He sits next to you and reaches for your hand just as the person answers.
“Hey, man, been trying to call you.” the man's voice says, a tone of urgency present.
“Yeah, sorry about that, I was caught up for a second. What’s up, what’s going on?” Jake answers, rubbing his hand along your arm.
He turns to look at you mouthing ‘guitar tech’ as he hands you the damp towel. You make quick work of it, wiping yourself off but knowing you’ll be taking a shower as soon as possible. You throw it across the room as he snickers, waiting for Johnny to answer.
“Listen man, I’m at the venue, trucks just arrived and we are doing load out. One of the stage left Marshall cabinets split in transit. Wiring harness is fucked. Amp is…the amp is not looking good man.”
You see Jake stiffen, “What?”
“Huge gash in the backside, must have fallen or something, I tried to fuck with the wiring as best as I could, it’s not getting any signal right now, man.”
“Holy fuck,” he groans, standing quickly from the bed and gripping into his hair. “No signal? Did you try a direct line in?”
You cut your eyes wondering how he managed to sober up so quickly in the last three minutes.
“Yeah, even DI there’s no signal, just static. Powers’ on, but she’s DOA. Gonna have Mark take a look at it too, but I don’t have high hopes,” he continues.
“Is there anything we can do? How the fuck are we supposed to get a replacement amp and cabinet by tomorrow?” Jake asks, his voice laced with panic.
“We can make some calls, I know a guy with some leads. What are the chances of you coming down here to take a look at it? Maybe I’m completely missing something, man. Hoping it's a quick fix. Need your signature for the insurance waiver, too.”
“Can it wait until morning?” he asks, a pained look on his face.
“Probably shouldn’t, especially if we are looking for a replacement locally.”
He turns to look at you, and you can tell he is conflicted. You bite your lips together and nod your head. This is his job after all.
He runs a hand over his face, letting out a sigh, “Yeah, yeah, I um– I can be there in a bit. I just need to wrap something up here, and I’ll be there. See if you can get in touch with Hamstead, I’m sure they have a loaner we could use for tomorrow at the very least.”
“Will do man, hey sorry about this, I don’t know what happened, maybe it wasn't strapped down or–”
Jake is quick to cut him off, “It’s fine, not your fault. I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“Yep, see you then,” he says, ending the call.
He tosses his phone on the nightstand before dropping his head into his hands. “This night has been…”
He turns to look at you, letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what the fuck it’s been, fuck, I just…”
You can tell he is flustered, he can hardly form a sentence. “Listen, I get it. It’s fine, just go do what you need to do. It’s okay, really.”
He nods as he stands up from the bed, walking around the front to start grabbing for his clothes. He doesn’t say much as he dresses, and he will hardly look at you. You don’t really know why, but you can imagine he is feeling a little bad about himself and his performance at the moment. You still haven't let yourself process what exactly happened with the two of you just now, but you will, soon.
He re-buttons his shirt, pulling his hair up into a hair tie as he lets out a sigh, “Look, I’m sorry about this. I really am, this is the absolute very last thing I want to do right now, especially after… that. But I have to, and I don’t want you to think that I want to because–”
“Jake. I get it. Just go, it’s fine,” you say calmly, hoping he will believe you.
He grabs his phone and his wallet and shoves them into his pants pocket, kneeling on the bed towards you. He leans in to kiss you, but his lips don’t land on yours, instead missing your mouth completely. A new rush of secondhand embarrassment washes through you, and right now you think him leaving is probably the best thing he could do.
He curses himself as he stands up shaking his head in defeat as he swallows back his embarrassment. He walks towards the door with a hand in his pocket, turning to you just before stepping out, “I’ll uh…I’ll text you, I guess, I don’t know, fuck. Have a good night, Y/N.”
The door slams behind him and suddenly the room is silent. No heavy breathing, no pitchy moans, and no ringing phones. Just pure silence.
You stare at the wall for a full five minutes, the muted TV flashing colors against your skin. You can’t conjure a thought. Not a single one. Nothing other than what the fuck was that?
You want to call Ruth. You want to call her and tell her everything, but you also don’t even know what you would say. Something like ‘Hey Ruth, just had the worst two minutes of sex of my life? Oh did I mention he was barely hard? And I couldn’t get him hard? And that his phone rang the entire time? And that he came in two minutes? And I didn’t finish at all? And then he had to leave as soon as he finished? And now I’m sitting alone and naked in my hotel room?’ Yeah, you needed to sit on this one for a minute. Your eyes catch sight of the flower laying on the dresser, now looking a little bit limp and lifeless but still beautiful no less. You feel a pang run through your chest, tearing your eyes away from it so as not to taint that moment earlier with this one.
You rip the sheets from your body and make your way to the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as it will go before stepping inside. You let the steaming hot water clear your mind and ease your tense muscles, washing away the scent of his cologne that is lingering on your skin.
You wrack your brain for answers, though you can hardly come up with anything that makes sense. There’s just no fucking way he is actually terrible in bed. We had so much chemistry, the electricity between us was nearly electrocuting you. He felt so good last night. We were so in sync last night. This had to be a fluke, right? You’ve seen him with his guitar on stage, where was that?!
You lather your skin in your body wash, rinsing away the remaining evidence that this night ever happened. After the best afternoon with him, why was he so off tonight? He barely seemed like himself. Maybe he really did have too much to drink.
You tried to put yourself in his shoes. If the roles were reversed and it was your phone blowing up like that, you probably would have been a little distant too. But that didn’t explain why he couldn’t stay hard. That was a mystery to you, and you really hoped to god it was the beers and not you. You know he was so much harder last night, you know he was. You felt it. So what happened between last night and tonight?
Something. You knew that much.
You turn off the water and wrap yourself in a towel, letting your mind wander with possibilities, trying to convince yourself that what he showed you tonight was not who he really was. You sat back down on the bed you just shared with him, thinking back to that few seconds where things were good. And it was good, it felt good, he felt good. There was no denying those few seconds. But the rest of it, well, that was still up for debate.
You grab your phone and tap the screen, the display reading 1:02AM. There are no texts from Jake, though you didn’t really know what you expected him to say.
From the little you know about him, when he left here tonight the confidence he naturally exudes was gone, not even in the same building. You knew he would reach out, but only when he was ready and knew what to say. But until then…
You toss your phone on the bed next to you, quickly changing into a clean pair of pajamas and curling back up into the bed. You lay there staring at the ceiling trying to figure out how you are going to handle things tomorrow. You would be with him the entire day, and you didn’t want to make him feel worse than he likely already did.
You go back and forth with yourself until you land on something sturdy: You won’t say anything, you won’t do anything. You’ll act completely normal. The same as you have for the last few days. You decide to tear this page from the book and move forward. This never happened.
Deep down you know there was something holding him back from being fully present with you tonight, but what that is you’ve yet to discover.
—
JAKE POV
The early morning finds you facedown on your bed, still fully clothed, one boot kicked off into the floor, the other still completely on your foot. The sun is far from being up, and you’re thankful that you still have a few hours before its rays beat in through your window. The bustle of the awakening city is loud on the streets below you, and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to stay in this exact position for the rest of the day. For the rest of your life, actually. Maybe, if you bury yourself under these blankets and pillows, everyone will forget about you. Isla will forget about you. Y/N will forget about you, about everything, about last night. It will be like it never even happened. It will be like the most amazing buildup to what could have been a night of pure electricity didn’t take an absolute nose dive into one of the most embarrassing things to have ever happened to you. You’d take tripping on stage a million times over this. Pure. Humiliation.
Yeah, right here, in this bed. Under the pillows. They can’t find you here.
What the fuck even happened?! Whiskey dick was an understatement. It didn’t even begin to explain what you…experienced. Unable to perform for the most beautiful new thing that has happened to you. Everything was perfect, she was perfect… her confidence was enamoring, her head was off the charts good, and fuck, for the few seconds you had things actually going, it was pure ecstasy. She was soaked for you. Her sounds, her face… fuck. It all came flooding back to your brain, even the way she smelled still stuck in your mind. She wanted you, just as badly as you wanted her. Just the thought of it had you standing at attention all over again, at full force this time, though. And you’d let her down.
You sit up and roll yourself over. “Where the fuck were you last night, huh? Let me the fuck down!” you audibly yell at what was happening in your still-belted jeans. You force your face back into the comforter, realizing now that a horrific hangover is on the horizon. Your head is busting in two already, not like you already didn’t feel like shit on a boot.
Staying here, under the pillows until sound check. Right here. Not moving. Hiding.
You know that’s not realistic, though. You contemplate texting her, but what the fuck do you even say? You couldn’t even satisfy her, and ended up satisfying yourself, way too fucking soon. What had you lasted, two minutes? Three max? Like a fucking 16 year old kid. God, what a fucking tool. She probably thinks you’re a horrible lay. You know you’re better than that.
You groan hard into the sheets below you, feeling the metallic taste of a hangover in your mouth. You need a gallon each of water, orange juice, and black coffee, stat. And probably like, nine pieces of the butteriest toast you can find. And probably a shower, yes, a shower. And a straightjacket, for how absolutely insane you feel.
Damnit, the amp. Luckily, the rental was in the works of being en route last night, so you feel just a little bit better about that, at least. It won’t be your baby, but it will sound okay.
You roll and find your almost-dead phone underneath your chest, blinking your eyes as the screen brightens. Nothing. Not even Isla. Good. No one wants you. You can stay here, hidden in your burrow, until you absolutely can’t anymore.
You’ve gotta say something, anything to her, to start this process that you want to stay millions of miles away from. But the first step to healing is admission, so you go ahead and take it.
You
5:31AM: I’m sorry.
You watch as the message is delivered to her, seeing the string of foreplay texts and her photo still sitting in the chat. She’s so gorgeous, how could you have fucked up this badly? Your first chance to show her how you feel and you fumble this hard?
Though there were many factors playing into it, at the very deepest darkest part of your mind, you know why. You know exactly why. Guilt isn’t an emotion you let yourself feel very often, and this morning, you find yourself grasped in the wrath of it. The double-edged sword of your current situation with two separate women is proving to be more intertwined than you’d anticipated, or even foresaw. What you want is clear, though. And you’re determined to get a second chance, no matter how rocky and uncomfortable the road to that chance may be.
.
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Join the Tag List Here
Taglist: @britney-gvf @gretavanmoon @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj @dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @myownparadise96 @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs
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4/17/24
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I need to pass one more class to graduate.. might pull an all nighter to grind this one out.. besties........ this ones for you ...✊
#greta van fleet#sam gvf#samuel kiszka#sam kiskza#sammy boy#sammy kiszka#sammy gvf#sam kiszka#gvf art#greta van fleet art#greta van art#fanart#josh kiszka#jake kiszka#danny wagner#greta van meme
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The Australia tour announcement is basically the best that they’ve all looked and I’m loyal to my lane but I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t thinking about taking all of them at once
ANY AND ALL CONTENT GOING FORWARD SHOULD BE IN SLOW MOTION!!! IM STARTING A PETITION!!!
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Heaven In Time
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Chapter 3: Bleeding Hearts, Angel Voices
Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka
Summary: The last supper. Or is it?
Tags: Religious trauma, hella guilt tripping/mentions of religious upbringing, internalized homophobia, sliiiiiight slut shaming, sibling fighting, slight sauciness
Words: 10k
A/N: As promised, here's the playlist, as well as the last chapter of this little series. Thank you all so much for being so sweet about it and I'm so happy you liked it!! Tell me all your thoughts!!! OH also, I'm aware that only Catholic priests really wear clerical collars, but I decided to include it because Josh is dramatic and would think it looks cute. Okay enjoy
~~
“This is it?”
“Yup.”
“Wow. Somewhere along the way you failed to mention that it’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“It’s practically sinking into the lake, Dan.”
Already crabby, Sam really wanted to be able to trash the house looming in front of them. But for all its ghosts and lonely corners, Sam couldn’t write off the fact that his childhood home (and Jake’s new permanent place of residence, apparently) was and had always been a sight to behold. It wasn’t particularly flashy with its modest white paneling having been frayed by weather and stained with mildew, and it certainly wasn’t modern by any means. However, with the silver maples conspiring around it and a lakeside view from the bottom of the hill it rested on, the house with all its flaws and farmhouse style charm was enough to make Danny’s eyes widen.
“I didn’t know my parents had moved,” Sam noted softly, heart racing as he observed his brothers’ cars in the driveway and wondered where his dad’s station wagon was parked now.
“I’m sure Jake will fill you in on everything,” Danny assured Sam as he parked next to Jake’s crappy Volvo. He cut the engine and studied Sam’s apprehensive expression out of the corner of his eye, selfishly hoping that Sam would call the whole thing off and they could drive off towards the loving embrace of Danny’s own childhood home just beyond the state border. He knew his parents and sister would absolutely adore Sam, but he wasn’t sure that Sam’s brothers would welcome him as readily.
“Okay,” Sam blurted, smacking his hands against his thighs and letting out a fast exhale. “Quick overview before we go in.”
“Right,” Danny nodded. Honestly, he could use a refresher. It was always a struggle to get Sam to talk about his family like this.
“Josh is the oldest,” Sam started, beginning his list of points by marking them on his fingers. “Technically. He’s older than Jake by, like, I don’t remember, a couple of minutes. Super friendly, loud as fuck, took up my dad’s pastoral duties after he got deep into the televangelist bullshit that I’m sure he’s still doing now. He was a natural, of course, given that there’s nothing he loves more than the sound of his own voice.”
“Harsh.”
“Dude, trust me. You’ll get what I mean. Anyways, you’ve met Jake. Sort of. He’s very…passionate, which you’ve seen. Kind of hot headed, very one track minded. He basically runs the whole ministry from the shadows, even when Dad was still pastor. Josh gives the go ahead, but Jake’s the organizer. He’s busy 24/7 and has been since they were, like, 12.”
“Doesn’t sound very sustainable,” Danny commented. Sam let out a laugh and shook his head.
“It is not,” Sam agreed bitterly. “But he likes barking orders and playing puppet master, so I guess it works for him. And, I mean, school and youth group pretty much taught us that there was no other way for us to live other than doing church shit all day every day, so I can’t say I’m surprised he turned out this way.”
“Pretty relentless, huh?”
“Yup. Especially when your dad’s running aforementioned church and giving you shit for doing anything, I don’t know, childlike? Or for just enjoying stuff?”
“Definitely explains why Jake was such a dick about your cute ‘fit,” Danny said. “Those values trickle down if you let them, I guess. I still don’t think you had to change, by the way.”
“I definitely did,” Sam muttered, looking down at the plain jeans he’d pulled from his suitcase and the thin flannel he’d buttoned over his chest after their backseat tryst. “Josh would’ve lost his shit. No way he’d go full ‘Ooh, look at me, I’m a man of God and that means I get to preach with corporal punishment’ route, but he’d sure as hell think about it if I showed up in those shorts.”
“Baby,” Danny lamented, heart sinking as he watched Sam fiddle with a button while wearing a sullen expression. “We don’t have to do this.”
“I want to,” Sam insisted, reaching for Danny’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For, you know, closure.”
“Okay,” Danny relented, still hesitant but trusting in Sam to know when enough is enough.
“Okay,” Sam echoed. “Okay. Okay, let’s do this.”
Sam pulled Danny in for a quick kiss of courage, bounced once in his seat, let out a nervous sound and then threw open the door and climbed out. Danny chuckled and got out, locking up the truck and watching with adoration as Sam shuffled towards the peeling front steps.
-
“One second!”
The voice came booming through the rattling front door after Sam had given it a timid knock to the beat of three. Almost instantly, Sam’s nerves flared with electrifying panic and he spun to face Danny.
“Actually,” Sam declared in a rushed, reedy tone. “Fuck this, let’s go.”
“What?”
Before Sam could drag Danny down the stairs and bail harder than anyone has ever bailed before, the door swung open with a melodramatic bang and then there was Josh. Danny could immediately see the startling resemblance between him and Jake, but there was something particularly unique about Josh that immediately set him apart. Danny assessed his tidy curls and the clerical collar nestled snugly at the base of his neck and knew it must be these physical differences, but he stood there puzzling nonetheless. Josh’s face was lit up with a plasticine cheer that seemed to be his resting expression, but at the sight of his deserter younger brother turning to him like a deer in the headlights, his face morphed into uncharacteristic shock. Once again, Danny stood in awkward silence as the useless mediator. This time around he had the good sense to step to the side before the situation devolved.
“Oh,” Josh said simply, his graceful hands rising to cup at the sides of Sam’s face with practiced theatrics. “Oh, praise be to God. Sammy. You’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” Sam repeated, already faltering under Josh’s fiery gaze. “Hi.”
“I can’t believe it,” Josh breathed, tears glittering in his eyes as he shook his head with wonder. “I just can’t even believe it’s really you. It is, right? Or are you some agent of the Lord sent to test my faith in His protection of you?”
“Pretty sure He’s not worried about your faith, Josh,” Sam muttered, grasping Josh’s wrists and lowering them. “I’ve been protected just fine. It’s me, I swear.”
“Thank God,” Josh blubbered, throwing his arms around Sam and pulling him into a crushing hug. Despite it all, Sam accepted it gratefully, crossing his arms behind Josh’s back and holding him just as hard. This was the reunion he’d been dreading the most, but his shame was temporarily assuaged in the comfort of his brother’s embrace.
Danny kept his silence as they hugged, but eventually Josh caught his eye and appeared to register that there was someone on the porch other than Sam for the first time.
“I’m sorry, I’m being rude,” Josh began after he let Sam go, wiping a tear with the heel of his palm and presenting his other hand to Danny. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Danny,” Danny introduced himself, giving Josh a firm handshake and smiling nervously. Even though so few words had been exchanged, Danny had to admit that it was enough to feel that Josh’s presence could quickly become overwhelming.
“Daniel,” Josh grinned, pleased. “I assure you our home tonight will be no den of lions.”
“Of course,” Danny smiled, completely disbelieving of Josh’s sentiment. “Pretty sure that was revealed to me in one of my many visions. …That is what Daniel did in the Bible, right?”
Josh’s laugh erupted out of his chest and he clapped Danny on the arm with an approving grip. Sam shared a look of surprised amusement with Danny, whose shoulders flickered with a shrug as Josh came down from his laughing fit.
“Good man,” Josh wheezed. “Ah, that’s funny. Am I right in assuming you’re Sammy’s companion in the travels I’m sure he’s had? The travels I simply cannot wait to hear about?”
“Correct.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” Josh beamed, flashing his wide smile back on Sam. “I knew this would happen, you know. That He’d send you a guardian angel to watch over you. I prayed for it.”
“I’m truly blessed,” Sam agreed, giving Danny a private, bashful smile while Josh became temporarily distracted by propping open the door.
“That you are,” Josh professed, gesturing into the house as he crossed the threshold again. “All of us are, really. Now I don’t want to keep you waiting on this drafty old porch, please, come in, come in.”
Josh went in first, flying ahead of Danny and Sam as the door closed behind them and the house swallowed them whole.
“Here we go,” Sam whispered, nearly inaudible. Josh guided them, humming and singing under his breath as he reached to graze his fingers against the walls of the hallway lined with crosses of all sizes and finish.
“It’s going good so far,” Danny whispered back. “He likes me.”
“Wait ‘til he finds out what kind of guardian angel you are,” Sam murmured. Danny flushed and snaked his arm behind Sam and gave him a pinch on his side, only inches away from the situationally appropriate angel wings messily inked on Sam’s lower back.
Sam bit back a muffled squeak and smacked Danny in the arm. He was ready to send another flirty whisper his way, but when they emerged in the kitchen, Sam froze up once again at the sight of Jake stationed at the stove. Jake’s hair had been relieved of its outdated ponytail and skirted over his shoulders in messy waves, swaying with motion as he tended to a pan.
“When you said surprise guests, I was certainly not expecting a surprise like this!” Josh cried, shaking Jake by the shoulder. “You drive me nuts.”
“You drive me nuts, it seemed only fair,” Jake smiled. “I’m surprised you saw me come home acting the way I was and didn’t immediately know Sam had something to do with it.”
Sam let out an offended little exhale from his nose and Jake finally regarded him and Danny, renewed tension stretching between them all as he gave them a curt, impersonal nod.
“You really came,” Jake noted plainly, gaze lingering on Sam before turning back to the stovetop, pushing sizzling green tomatoes around the skillet.
“You invited us,” Sam reminded him, cautiously approaching and watching him work. “Enthusiastically, actually. Is this Grandma’s recipe?”
“Yup,” Jake answered flatly, still refusing eye contact as the oil snapped and leaped when he flipped the tomatoes.
“It smells divine,” Danny piped up. Jake gave him a side eye that Danny honored with a nervous, polite smile, but Jake ultimately shut him down with empty air.
“It’s all divine in this house,” Josh followed up dreamily.
“Well, hopefully it doesn’t taste like ‘disappointment’,” Jake muttered pettily, bringing up Sam’s words from the gas station. Sam sighed and took a step back from Jake, who filled his space by moving from the pan to open the oven, poking noisily at a covered tray.
“Come on, Jake,” Sam groaned. “We come in peace. I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”
“And I don’t want this catfish to char,” Jake countered. “Scoot.”
“I’ve scooted, thanks,” Sam frowned, taking another step back. “Why are you acting like we’re showing up uninvited? You literally asked us to come.”
“Hey, what has gotten into you two?” Josh interjected, finally absorbing his twin’s clipped tone. “We should be celebrating. And we have company, so if you could save us all the trouble of picking apart your rude semantics, that would be lovely. I mean, honestly.”
Jake let out a huff and continued working to pull dinner together, plunging the kitchen into icy silence as Sam sneered at the floor to prevent any tears from creeping up on him. Danny wanted nothing more than to hoist him up and carry him out of the house, but he watched helplessly as Josh came over to Sam and gently pulled him out of the room.
“You two can hash it out later, okay?” Josh whispered, and Sam nodded as they crossed the threshold into the wood paneled dining room. The dining table was set with four crisp placemats, all of them centered in the middle of the table under the flowering hands of the chandelier. It was odd for Sam to see, considering he’d never known the table to be set without a placemat at the head of the table for his father.
“Sorry,” Sam apologized, falling into old habits. “We ran into Jake at a gas station and it ended…weird. You know he can be kind of-”
“Snippy?” Josh finished for him, pulling out a bundle of cutlery from a drawer. “Righteous? Yes, he can be. Lord knows I know. He’s working on it. Been working on a lot since you left, actually. Some days I swear he out prays me.”
“When did Mom and Dad move?” Sam asked, changing the conversation while robotically accepting and laying down silverware as Josh handed it to him.
“Two months ago,” Josh replied nonchalantly. “Turns out Dad’s broadcast made its way to Nebraska and amassed a following there, so they picked up to be closer to his flock.”
“Nebraska?” Sam exclaimed, nearly dropping the bundle of forks in his hand. He swallowed the revelation with a shiver of relief and an equally strong wave of grief, no doubt felt by the lonely little boy he carried inside him. Sam realized with blank shock that there was a very good chance he would never see his parents again.
“So, what, they just up and left?”
“Yeah…”
“For Nebraska?”
Danny walked in then, unable to withstand Jake’s angry clanging for another minute.
“What’s in Nebraska?” Danny asked innocently.
“Our parents,” Josh explained with a weak smile. “I trust Sam’s told you about our Dad’s post preaching venture?”
“A little,” Danny lied. He’d heard plenty about what the Kiszka patriarch had been up to since retiring and passing on the torch of preacher to his oldest son: good ol’ American televangelism, complete with the incensed ramblings and an addiction to being on screen. From what he heard from Sam, this came at the cost of quality time with his family. Sam had assured him the blow was softened significantly considering they’d all been fruitlessly clamoring for his affection for their entire lives and were long accustomed to the scraps they’d been dealt.
“I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised,” Sam laughed flatly, shooting Josh a knowing look. “Lord knows Dad has the means to afford it.”
“Oh, here we go. I don’t want to hear your conspiracy theories, Sammy,” Josh replied sternly. “I have faith that every drop of his viewer’s donations go right to the Convention.”
“Right,” Sam muttered. “Just like the college fund did.”
Josh stiffened, bright eyes suddenly cast in shadow as he set a glass down on the table. Danny’s eyebrows silently rose in curiosity. He’d never heard mention of college.
“Always the firecracker, Sammy,” Josh said with a brusque laugh, recovering with shocking speed and slipping his cheerful mask back on with ease. Sam rolled his eyes and carried on doling out glasses and napkins, but Danny found Josh’s abrupt mirth disturbing and studied him from where he leaned in the doorway. Danny had felt quite certain in his assessment of Jake when they’d met, but with Josh, he couldn’t quite pin what it was about him that kept Danny’s attention.
-
Dinner had gone off without a hitch, much to the surprise of everyone at the table. There was a bit of a rough start when a chilly direction from Jake had Danny positioned at the seat farthest from Sam, one that also conveniently faced the portrait of Jesus on the wall. But after they’d all sat down, Josh had led them in a tearful round of grace praising Sam’s safe return and then insisted on hearing every single detail of their cross country journey. Knowing that “every single detail” would send both his siblings into cardiac arrest, Sam had regaled them with only the most entertaining stories. Danny felt his heart swelling in his chest watching Sam settle into his natural element, rolling his wrists in the air and grinning like a madman as he detailed engine mishaps and eccentric motel squatters. The biggest surprise of all was Jake slowly warming up as the conversation rolled along, never contributing more than a few words at a time but eventually offering up the smallest of smiles and persistent eye contact as his little brother rambled away.
“I just can’t believe it,” Josh noted brightly at the tail end of one of Sam’s stories. “You’re so bold now, Sams. I remember when you were such a little scaredy cat too scared to get the communion wafers from the back room by yourself. Now you’re out there roughing the wilderness and pushing cows off the road.”
“Trying to push cows off the road,” Daniel corrected with a smile, remembering how hard he’d laughed watching Sam push with all his might against a cow where its herd had blocked the road somewhere in Texas. “Emphasis on trying.”
“I pushed that big one with the brown spot!” Sam argued. “You saw! He went running!”
“He felt bad for you, Sammy.”
Jake let out a snort that set them all off into their own fits of laughter, save for Sam who open mouth scoffed and mouthed threats to Danny across the table. Despite his faint indignation at Danny poking fun at him, Sam felt a great rush at the light hearted mood that had settled over the room. For a split second, he thought of a world where they could eat dinner like this on a regular basis, but he held himself back from indulging in that hope and laid it to rest in a far corner of his mind as quickly as it had risen.
Sam found it to be a wise choice when the laughter died down and Josh, completely unknowingly, killed the mood.
“Is it a hassle to find churches near motels?” Josh asked with sincere interest. “Or is it nice to settle for one day a week when you’re always driving around all willy-nilly?”
Jake let out another snort and Sam and Danny made awkward eye contact across the table.
“They don’t go to church, Josh,” Jake answered for his brother. Josh blinked and Sam bowed his head, suddenly very interested in tearing at the seedy heart of the tomato at the end of his fork.
“I suppose we can be few and far between,” Josh nodded. “I don’t think it’d hurt to peek in on a general Christian service, though. It’d do the job if the Baptist radio stations don’t reach wherever you end up.”
“They don’t want to go to church, Josh,” Jake continued. Sam kicked him under the table and Jake shot him a snotty look, raising his eyebrows haughtily as Josh turned to Sam.
“Is that true?” Josh asked, sounding a little hurt.
“Did nobody here read the note I left?” Sam mumbled childishly, keeping his eyes down as Josh sputtered and looked between him and Danny. Danny couldn’t muster anything more than an embarrassed cough, also looking down but keeping his eyes firmly glued to Sam.
“I did, about a thousand times,” Josh insisted, shifting his entire chair to face Sam. “But I figured you’d, you know…well, maybe I don’t know.”
“I bet there’s a lot we don’t know,” Jake added, kicking back when Sam kicked him again.
“What are you, 12? Stop it,” Josh snapped, adding his own kicking leg to the fray. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“You should’ve seen what he was wearing when I saw him,” Jake said conspiratorially.
“Jake, shut up!” Sam hissed. “You’re so fucking prissy.”
“Woah, language!” Josh scolded, throwing his hands up. “Everybody take a brea-”
“He was practically naked. From where I was, I actually thought he was a girl.”
“Okay, Jake, give it a rest,” Danny snapped, anger finally giving him the courage to speak up.
“I’ll “give it a rest” when you stop necking my brother in broad daylight, how about that, Florida?” Jake snarled, tossing his fork on the table with a furious clatter and crossing his arms. Danny’s mouth clamped shut at the same time Josh’s fell open. Sam let out a strained howl, staring daggers through his brother’s skull as Jake sent them right back.
“God, Jake, you’re so, so,” Sam stammered, insults piling in his mouth. “You’re so fucking jealous!”
Jake didn’t reply, but his eyes fluttered from the sting of Sam’s words. Sam had hit a nerve with sharp precision and they both knew it.
“What on God’s green earth is Jake talking about?” Josh asked, eyes glued to Danny where he wilted in his chair. Danny drew in a breath like he was about to answer, but they all found that the silence he gave instead was just as clear as if he’d spoken.
“Sam?” Josh asked, a little desperate. For some reason, he didn’t sound as deeply disappointed as Sam had imagined, and certainly not as mad as he’d feared.
“I hate you,” Sam whispered across the table to Jake, ignoring his other brother searching his face for something he’d missed entirely. “I said I didn’t want to fight.”
“Are we fighting, or am I just saying things that are objectively true?” Jake countered with eerie calm. “You don’t go to church. You dress like a girl. You’re screwing a total stranger. Anything else you’d like to add? Is he paying you, perhaps?”
Sam’s chair scraped loudly as he got to his feet and sent it banging against the wall. He crumpled up his napkin and threw it in Jake’s face before storming out of the dining room, leaving behind another frustrated cry that was cut off by the metallic clang of the front door. Josh turned to Jake with his own expression of genuine anger.
“Do you want him to leave again?” Josh growled, glaring him down before casting his eyes on Danny. “Daniel, I am so sorry. Please, forgive us.”
Jake’s face grew cloudy and sullen at Josh’s fury, clueing Danny into whose opinion he must value most in this world. He sank further in his chair when Josh breezed past him and followed Sam’s warpath out of the home, leaving Jake and Danny to sit side by side in their private rages after the door had slammed for a second time.
-
They sat there for a very long time. Danny wanted to run to Sam (he was always running to Sam, and he thought maybe he always had been) but knew that Sam needed Josh more than him. As much as he was not enjoying this trend of being left alone with Jake, he sat with the storm cloud beside him and did his best to steal glances and collect information without Jake’s knowledge. When they’d first encountered him, Jake had seemed so eager to fly Sam back home to the nest. He’d seemed almost understanding, or as understanding as someone like him could be, but it’d spun out within seconds. Danny was trying to figure out the exact moment that had turned him into a cold shouldered teenager so desperate to cut Sam down.
When slyly sliding his eyes to try and gauge Jake’s expression, Danny startled slightly to find that Jake’s focus had shifted from the wall to him. When he followed the low trajectory of his tired gaze, Danny saw that Jake was staring at…Danny’s scuffed cowboy boots. From the looks of it, he was tracing the stitchings in the brown leather. Lost in a daydream, maybe? Danny considered with a note of private amusement that Jake might be looking at his boots and tucking himself into a fantasy of cowboys and fast horses. Maybe that was something he and Danny both did; escaping into an idealized reality when the one at hand was too much.
Then, with a jolt, it clicked. The way Jake had grown cruel when Sam had defended his new look and new life, no doubt shattering Jake’s pre established perception of his baby brother. Inviting him to dinner and cooking what Danny knew were some of Sam’s favorite foods, only to spoil it all with appetite stealing jabs. How he had shrank under Josh’s disappointment. How he sat now, staring at Danny’s boots like he wished they were his.
Like he wished he could run.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” Danny blurted. Jake jerked at the sudden sound and regarded Danny with wide, confused eyes. He blinked once before his face crumpled, perplexed.
“For what?” Jake asked, all bite gone from his voice. He sounded almost friendly. He sounded a little like Sam, actually. Danny used that familiarity to gather his confidence.
“I’m sorry Sam didn’t invite you to go with him. That must’ve really hurt.”
Jake’s expression held its dumbfounded composure but Danny could see the emotion shift from confusion to something akin to being completely crushed. He barely blinked and Danny watched his eyes fill with tears.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jake hissed, his voice wobbling slightly as his lip curled in feigned disgust. “You two are going to die out there, one way or another.”
“You must be a masochist, then,” Danny accused, continuing to find his nerve. “Because I’m willing to bet that Sam wasn’t too far off when he said you were jealous. I’m really not trying to be rude, I’m just trying to understand.”
“Understand what? Why I hate your guts?”
“You don’t hate my guts, Jake. And I sure as shit don’t hate yours.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You didn’t even give me a chance.”
Ah. There was another puzzle piece clicking in place for Danny.
“That’s another thing I’m sorry about,” Danny said honestly. “I shouldn’t have shut you down like that. It’s just - and this isn’t an excuse, it’s just an explanation- it’s just that I’ve spent the past year trying to get Sam as far away from what he was running from. And, well, you’re a part of all that in one way or another. But I should’ve understood your circumstances the same way I do Sam.”
Jake was quiet for another beat, swallowing and sniffling before letting out a sigh.
“I guess I shouldn’t have shut you down like that either,” Jake admitted. “And I guess I should thank you for keeping him safe and, well, alive. It’s just so weird to see Sam like this. He’s so…”
Jake’s lip trembled in a particularly Sam fashion and his eyes drifted off into space as tears began to roll down his ruddy cheeks.
“He’s so happy,” Jake breathed, in awe. “He was right, he was never happy here. I pushed him too hard. Josh was too wrapped up in his own crises. Our parents never gave him a second glance. And now he’s so free. He got out. You two have done so much and gone so far that it just makes everything at home feel even smaller. I guess I didn’t realize until I saw him again that there was something to ‘get out’ of.”
“It’s okay,” Danny whispered, reaching out and putting a hand on Jake’s arm. “Hey, breathe, it’s okay.”
“It’s not,” Jake wailed, fully swept up in his hysteria now. “It’s not okay. This is supposed to be a place people flock to, not run from. And, shit, if it was so bad that he had to run, you’d think he’d have the decency to at least tell me and Josh. You’d think he’d ask if...”
Danny thought he’d be more distressed watching Jake completely spin out, but he was actually pretty calm. He supposed this was par for the course in a place like this. Another holy man laid to waste by a betrayal. Another brother struck down by his brother, laying still while the other wandered. In some twisted way, there was something divine here, but not in the way that any of them wanted. Danny suddenly felt even closer to Sam, and he shivered a little with the understanding and satisfaction of it despite the gaunt atmosphere over the entire estate. He kept a steady hand on Jake’s arm when he crossed his arms on the table and buried his face shamefully, the lean crest of his back shivering with an unruly sob.
“You should go, Jake,” Danny whispered. “I mean, you should leave, too. You can’t be happy here.”
“That’s not an option for me,” Jake laughed, his face still hidden by his periwinkle sleeves. “There’s too much here for me to leave behind.”
“Josh?”
“Josh,” Jake repeated, voice wobbling. “Always gonna be Josh. As much as I’d love to have a week to myself without having to set up a million church activities or food drives or buying a trunkful of candles, I know he can’t handle the responsibility all on his own. It’s just easier if I do it so he can focus on writing sermons and doing confessions.”
“What happened to having faith in each other?”
“He doesn’t want to handle the responsibility on his own,” Jake corrected. “That’s another thing. In all honesty, I always thought if any of us were going to make it out of here, it’d be him.”
“Really?” Danny asked. From what he’d heard, Josh was more than happy with a microphone in his hand and adoring congregants standing at the ready to harmonize with his gospels.
Jake calmed slightly, resurfacing from his arms to rest his chin and catch his breath. His round face was still flushed with emotion and Danny resisted a very genuine urge to brush his hair back from where it lay lingering on his cheeks, kept there by stray tears.
“Josh…” Jake trailed off, his gaze finding comfort counting the slats in the blinds. “Josh struggles. I mean, we all do, but he…I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me much. I just know something keeps him convinced that he’s not worthy of being the pastor. Which is ridiculous, in my opinion.”
“Really,” Danny repeated, slightly more somber as he thought back to his first impressions of Josh and the immediate recognition whose source alluded him. It came to him in a wave, then, along with the fond ache of understanding.
“No one is more deserving,” Jake continued. “There’s no one as kind or as devoted as him. I think it’s just the church, well, the Convention, really, that has certain ideas that make him feel…unworthy, maybe. There’s an expectation he thinks he doesn’t live up to.”
“He’s..?” Danny trailed off, testing the waters cautiously in case the conclusion he’d jumped to was entirely wrong.
“He’s my brother,” Jake said firmly, finally looking Danny head on. “And my best friend. That’s all that matters to me.”
Danny sat back in his chair, a long held breath (of relief?) escaping his chest as his understanding of Jake finally crystallized. He wasn’t really a sharp tongued, verse slinging Bible thumper with a million little hills to die on. Jake was a man who was first and foremost devoted to his family, and he was willing to forego all of his wants for their needs. He was a brother, and he feared for how the world would treat his brothers, both inside and outside his little world. And at the end of it, he’d withstand feeling forgotten if it meant they felt seen. He had never been angry, not really. Just hurt.
“You’re a good brother, Jake,” Danny insisted, flashing Jake a smile. “You and Sam should have a chat before the night is through. And I still believe you should think about leaving. Both you and Josh, actually. There’s a lot of world you’d really like to see. Obviously it’s not my place to tell you what to do, but I do think it’d help.”
“You’re probably right,” Jake agreed. “And thank you. Sorry for, you know, everything.”
“It’s no problem,” Danny said genuinely. “I’m happy to help.”
“You are, aren’t you?” Jake laughed. “I’m surprised you’ve stuck around this long, honestly. Especially since you’re not religious. But I guess if you’ve put up with Sam for a year and not jumped overboard, you must be accustomed to some nonsense.”
“I don’t ‘put up’ with him,” Danny asserted. “It’s a privilege to get to spend so much time with him.”
Jake watched him with an arched, amused eyebrow, finally straightening in his chair to smooth his hair back and settle with his arms crossed.
“So, what, I’m gonna wind up being your brother, too?”
“I mean…in a way,” Danny laughed, heart racing. “If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Jake answered, shaking his head slightly. “I figured. I mean, after he hit 21 and had no dating prospects or interest in dating at all, I assumed he was gonna forgo it completely. I just guessed he was more interested in his commitment to the church, like Josh.”
“Seems they both had their reasons to stay away from girls,” Danny noted.
“I suppose they did,” Jake said with a light laugh. “And still do. But, wow, Sam really does light up around you. I’ve never seen that with him.”
Danny smiled, blushing with warmth again as he tried to recall Sam’s expression when he was around. He’d always been smiley and wide eyed when looking at Danny, complete with pupils blown wide and overtaking the honey brown of his iris while he mapped Danny’s face. Wasn’t that how he’d been before they met? Apparently not.
“You’ve got good intentions?” Jake interrogated, nudging Danny’s knee with his own. “You treat him right?”
“I do, I do,” Danny insisted, crossing his own arms and grinning. “I sure try. He’s easy to love.”
“You love him?”
“I…yeah, I do,” Danny affirmed, certain of his answer. “I didn’t even mean to say it like that, but, yeah. Is that alright?”
“Yeah, it’s alright,” Jake smiled, yet slightly subdued. “Just…be careful, okay? At least as long as you’re in Alabama. Especially in Shady Grove.”
“I know,” Danny said softly, a little more morose. “Sam warned me about that. Another reason he left.”
“Another reason we should go,” Jake replied reluctantly. “Right?”
“Right. Believe me, nowhere is going to be perfect, but I think you’ll like the version of Josh you’ll meet when he can be himself. I’ve loved watching Sam come out of his shell.”
“I wish I could’ve been there for that,” Jake whispered, choking up again. “He’s probably out there right now telling Josh how much he hates me.”
“Don’t say that.”
-
“I fucking hate him.”
“Sam.”
Sam had bolted the second he was out the front door, but Josh had known where to find him. Ever since Sam had been young enough to start throwing the tantrums that had made him so intolerable to their parents, he always fled to the dock at the bottom of the hill. Ever the mediator, Josh had spent his fair share of time on the rotting wood planks listening to Sam vent his frustrations as they plunged sticks and rocks into the murky water, eventually advising him with echoes of affirmations he’d heard from the mouths of older congregants. But they were adults now, and as Josh sat on the dock with Sam curled into his side, he realized with a faint panic that there were no more words to borrow but his own.
“I do,” Sam insisted, his head resting on Josh’s shoulder as he glared out over the blurred surface of the small lake. “I really do. I’m done with him.”
“No, you’re not,” Josh sighed, throwing an arm around Sam’s shoulder and rubbing his arm.
“Whatever,” Sam grumbled. “I want to be.”
“You don’t have any kind of hate in your soul, Sam,” Josh told him. “God takes it from you and leaves you even more kind and enduring.”
“Josh, stop,” Sam whispered, sending an embarrassed thorn right into Josh’s side.
“Stop what?”
“The God stuff. Please. Just, not now, at least.”
“The ‘God stuff’ used to make you feel better.”
“No, it didn’t. I just didn’t say anything.”
They sat without speaking for a minute. Without their voices, the rushing rain sounds of the mayflies and the hush of the surrounding trees filled the void between them.
“You could’ve said something,” Josh murmured. “Especially if it would’ve stopped you leaving.”
“It wouldn’t have,” Sam answered. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I think I would’ve left no matter what happened.”
“Oh,” Josh said, sounding small. “Did you know that before you left?”
“To some degree.”
“...I would’ve liked to know that, too, Sammy.”
Sam swallowed a guilty lump in his throat and sulked further against his brother.
“Sorry,” Sam whispered. “It was selfish. It’s just…I was scared if I told you, you’d tell Jake, and then he’d tell Dad, and then you’d all hatch some master plan to keep me here.”
“I suppose that’s not an unfounded fear,” Josh admitted. “Remember when Jake had his little Sunday school girlfriend? I didn’t see him for, like, three days after Dad got wind of it.”
“Exactly. And then you would’ve written up some elaborate, guilt trippy sermon and sat me down in the kitchen and made me talk about my feelings for 2 hours minimum.”
Josh laughed a little, drawing a knee to his chest against a cool breeze that rolled off the lake.
“I’m pretty predictable, huh? Goodness.”
“And that wouldn’t have worked because if I talked about my feelings…”
“What?”
“...”
“What, you wouldn’t want to hear my feelings about the whole thing?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s too late for that now. And that’s not-”
“I haven’t even told you how I felt,” Josh pointed out.
“I know how you felt,” Sam murmured, tears searing his waterline again. “Maybe it’s you and Jake with your creepy twin telepathy, but I felt you both the whole time, even all the way out in California. It’s horrible. Some days I couldn’t even enjoy myself because I could feel the disappointment two thousand miles away.”
Josh felt tears of his own threatening to spill over hearing that. It had never occurred to him that a lifetime of observing at the sidelines would’ve made Sam so accurately attuned to his family’s emotional patterns.
“Sammy,” Josh exhaled. “It pains me to listen to this. You don’t have to feel so guilty about everything.”
“Neither do you.”
Josh bristled slightly, lifting his cheek from Sam’s hair and looking down at him.
“What do you mean?” Josh asked gently.
“I know you didn’t want to be pastor.”
“Well, I love it now.”
Sam pulled away from Josh and crossed his legs under him, staring out over the water before staring Josh in the eye with a look so sincere and cutting that it made Josh lean back slightly.
“It’s okay if you don’t, you know,” Sam said evenly. “It’s okay if you’re upset.”
“What do I have to be upset about?” Josh teased, pushing Sam’s bony shoulder. “I live in this beautiful little town and get to spend my days with its beautiful little people talking about what I love. Plus I just got my baby brother back. I’d be a fool to complain.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Josh, cut it out,” Sam snapped, grief fizzling into frustration. “You sound like Dad at his worst. Why can’t you just drop the act for 2 seconds and admit you hate it here?”
Josh’s eyebrows flew up and he let out a reflexive laugh, anxiety coloring his tone as it fluttered cautiously out of him. Sam looked at him pleadingly, grabbing his brother's hand and gripping it tight.
“I know you didn’t want to be pastor,” Sam repeated firmly. “I know you wanted to go to college. And I…I know you’re gay.”
Josh immediately froze, falling silent as Sam stared into his eyes and what felt like his soul.
“And that’s great,” Sam continued on, a tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. “It can feel amazing if you’d just let yourself feel anything. Trust me, I know. You’re not trapped here, dude. You can still go to school and be yourself and be happy. You just have to put yourself first for the first time in your fucking life.”
Josh, struck dumb, couldn’t do anything but breathe as his heart burned in his chest and pushed up hot tears that blurred his vision of his brother. His brother, who was undressing his façade with effortless impatience that made Josh begin to wonder just how transparent he truly was. Or was it only Sam, who was part of him in so many ways, that could see how blind Josh was? When he spoke in dizzying circles of hell and damnation, were his congregants shaking their heads in pity with the knowledge that all Josh was really doing was scaring himself back into submission?
“If you’re really okay with how your life is turning out, tell me now and we can never talk about it again,” Sam promised. “I swear to God. I will leave it alone.”
Josh hesitated further, pulling his hand from Sam’s and letting out a slow breath. Looking down at the cloudy water swaying underneath them, he wondered how big of an inhale of it would take for him to sink right to the bottom.
“You’re right,” Josh confessed, his voice as soft and as uncertain as Sam had ever heard him. “I didn’t want any of this. It’s too much pressure. And the more I read the Bible and listen to the sermons from out in Texas and Georgia…the more I lose faith in what I’m supposed to be telling people.”
“Yeah,” Sam whispered, finding respite in Josh’s honesty. “I never really believed we were all born sinners.”
“I still kind of do,” Josh admitted. “But now I’m thinking there’s no amount of trying that’ll change that. I do all of this praying and writing and confession but I’m still…”
“It’s not sin, Josh. How you feel, how we both feel. There’s nothing to be saved from when it comes to that,” Sam insisted with quiet urging. “Seriously.”
“Maybe,” Josh whispered, picking at the skin around his nails as a dark coil of shame slithered in his stomach. “It just isn’t natur-”
“It’s like this,” Sam started, trying to put something into terms that would get through to him. “God is everyone and everything. Maybe that’s something I still agree with. And when you stop dedicating yourself to trying to get him to pay attention to you, you start to see Him or whatever “He” really is everywhere. You realize that you’re honoring Him by honoring yourself and doing what feels right to you. I don’t know if that’s something we’ll get rewarded for in heaven, but the reward of it on Earth is enough for me.”
“‘Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it’,” Josh recited with a nod. “Hebrews.”
“Sure. Yeah, actually, yeah. What I’m trying to say is you should live for yourself, Josh, not God or Dad or anyone. And if you still want God, you’ll find that without even trying.”
“Did you find Him with Danny?” Josh asked quietly. “In Texas?”
Sam blinked in surprise. He’d never thought about it like that, but…
“I guess I did,” Sam breathed, a smile drifting onto his face as he thought fondly of Danny. “At the start, at least. Now it’s all just him, no capital H.”
Everything was Danny to him, in complete honesty. Even though Sam only half believed the whole speech he was giving to Josh, he couldn’t deny the divinity he felt in the presence of his boyfriend. His best friend.
“I want that,” Josh murmured. His throat closed with emotion as he forced the words out, but it felt good to say. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d expressed wanting out loud, and based on the look on Sam’s face, he realized it may have never happened before.
“Go get it,” Sam said fiercely, his grin growing wildly when Josh’s eyes lit up a little at his encouragement. “You wanna come to Florida with us? We can find you a nice, alligator hunting boy.”
“Slow down, slow down,” Josh laughed, holding up his palms in surrender. “One step at a time.”
“Just Florida, then. We’ll ask Danny.”
As if summoned, there grew the sound of hushed voices and the sound of shoes on the wooden steps down to the deck, bodies hidden by the trees and the dark. Eventually they emerged, Jake hopping down from the last step that had been laid too high, bending at the knee from the impact as long legged Danny casually stepped down beside him. Sam and Josh turned to face them, leaning back on their hands and giving little waves. Without any words, they all knew the night’s battle had blown over, and Sam reached for Jake as he sat down between him and Josh. Jake received him with a hug, both of them bent into each other awkwardly as they murmured brief apologies to the other. Josh, unable to stay out of anything ever, leaned into their embrace and struggled to wrap his arms around both of them. Danny laughed as he settled next to Sam, their knees bumping as Sam attempted to wiggle out from the hold Josh had joyfully trapped them in.
“I’m just so grateful,” Josh wailed with phony passion. “I love my family!”
“You’d hug Mom and Dad like this?” Jake asked incredulously.
“...I love my brothers!”
All 4 of them laughed again as Josh finally released them, immediately proceeding to chastise Jake in a low voice as he fiddled with the frizz his hair had accumulated. Sam teetered backwards and landed with his back to Danny’s chest. Danny took advantage of the twins getting distracted and planted a kiss on top of Sam’s hair, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment at the consolation of Sam back in his arms after the whirlwind day they’d had.
“All good?” Danny whispered in Sam’s ear, smiling when Sam nodded and tilted his head to grin up at him.
“You?” Sam asked, humming when Danny mimicked his own nod back to him.
“Jake said we can stay the night in your old bedroom,” Danny informed him, repeating what Jake had said in the conversation on their way out of the house. “But he won’t make us breakfast.”
“Fuckin’ liar, he will,” Sam laughed, reaching a hand up and lovingly stroking Danny’s cheek as he utilized his other hand to smack Jake’s thigh. “What’s this about no breakfast? You want me to burn the place down trying to make toast?”
“I’m just not babying you anymore is all,” Jake announced, smacking Sam right back. “Danny agrees it’ll be good for our relationship.”
“Traitor,” Sam complained, smacking Danny on the cheek and squealing when Danny scoffed and smacked him back. Jake let out a brash cackle and Josh a defeated groan.
“You’re like the Three Stooges,” Josh whined. “Also, coming from you, Sam? That’s a bold accusation.”
“Wow!”
“Look who’s finally growing some balls,” Jake continued to cackle, hooking his elbow around Josh’s neck and pulling him into a side hug.
“The state of my balls are none of your concern,” Josh muttered, which made Sam and Jake let out identical barks of laughter. The three of them got whipped up into a frenzy of bickering and Danny watched with a grin and a bloom of warmth flowering in his chest at the sight. There was something being healed here, he thought, and he could almost see the misguided little boys they’d once been as they tussled and giggled on the groaning dock.
It was strange to think how differently he had felt just a few hours ago. With Sam in Danny’s life, it seemed like things changing at the drop of a hat was something that Danny was going to grow well accustomed to as long as he was around. After that night, even with Sam squirming out of his grasp to try and push his brothers into the lake, Danny knew with complete certainty that he wanted Sam to stick around forever. It was time he told him that.
-
“How was your shower?”
“Arctic.”
Danny laughed and opened up the wing of the sheets and comforters to welcome in Sam, who came rolling in with his hair still wet. He was clad in linen pajamas from his teenage years that fell slightly too short on his wrists and ankles, while Danny lay under the blankets in only his boxers and socks. Even though Sam’s skin and hair was freezing cold from the shower and dampened his own skin, Danny pulled Sam against him and struggled with the blankets to bundle them together as best as he could.
“There, now we’re a proper burrito,” Danny smiled, kissing the tip of Sam’s nose.
“I’ve never had a burrito,” Sam whispered in a hushed, secretive voice. Danny gasped.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not!”
“Well, that's okay, we'll remedy that. Plus, they’re not half as good as this,” Danny mumbled, using his grip on Sam’s back to pull him further into his bare chest and tuck Sam’s head into the crook of his neck. “Was the water really that cold?”
“Sub-zero,” Sam promised with a shiver. “Those assholes hogged all the hot water, I bet. Typical.”
“I’ll warm you up plenty,” Danny purred, sliding his hand up Sam’s shirt and tracing his fingers along his cool skin with featherlight touch. Sam shivered again and giggled, nuzzling deeper into Danny’s neck.
“Not in my childhood bed you won’t, pervert,” Sam murmured against Danny’s skin, which seemed to be radiating great waves of heat like he were a human furnace.
Said childhood bed had been a source of poorly hidden smiles from Danny, who finally admitted through a smothered laugh that the entire room looked like his grandma’s room back in Florida. No doubt done up and never redecorated for the daughter his mother had been expecting and never received, the wallpaper was pale, flowery and hung with silver crosses. Picture frames held stitched psalms that sat cheerfully on the vanity facing the bed. The double bed barely fit the both of them and, as Sam admitted through laughs of his own, the sheets and comforters that surrounded them now did, at one time, belong to his granny. When they’d first walked in, Sam had felt the loving ache of being remembered upon finding that the bed had been made and the room had been tidied for his return.
“How about some sleep, then?” Danny offered. “We’ve had a long day.”
“No kidding,” Sam quietly agreed. “I’m glad what happened did happen, shockingly enough. I really thought it was going to be a trainwreck. I should’ve had more faith in them, I guess.”
“You’ve got just the right amount of faith,” Danny hummed, eyes drifting open and shut as he grew sleepy from the perfume of Sam’s shampoo and his natural sweetness. “I’m really proud of you, baby. I know that was a lot for you. You’re a tough cookie.”
“I’m your tough cookie,” Sam murmured, tickling Danny’s neck with his nose and planting a lingering kiss on the pulse thrumming violently under his lips. Danny let out a breathy groan and gently dug his fingers into Sam’s back as Sam mapped a sleepy path of kisses along Danny’s neck.
“Easy, cookie,” Danny raggedly chuckled, smoothing his palm up and down Sam’s back as he fought in vain to stave off the growing pressure in his boxers. “I thought being in this bed was a no go.”
“It is,” Sam doubled down, lips dragging against Danny’s skin as he whispered. “Just saying thank you real quick.”
“You and your fuckin’ ‘thank you’’s,” Danny smiled, eyelids fluttering fully shut as he tilted his head back and gave Sam more area to cover. “This is like that first night all over again.”
“I was so embarrassed,” Sam giggled, his breath fanning out in warm bursts over the thin layer of saliva cooling on Danny’s skin. “I thought I’d gone and fucked up the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Sweetheart,” Danny cooed, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“No, I’m not,” Sam refused, pressing his cheek into the hollow of Danny’s collarbone.
“Yes, you absolutely are, my little California love.”
“Even after today?” Sam asked, sounding more uncertain than he wanted to. “I can’t think of a single other person on Earth who could’ve sat through all of that bullshit and still liked me at the end of it. Like, I really can’t apologize enough. Especially for Jake’s crazy ass.”
“Especially after today,” Danny insisted. Sam lifted his head from Danny’s chest and looked up at him with an unconvinced sneer, their noses brushing as Danny raked his fingers through Sam’s damp waves and searched for the fortitude to say what he felt. These were the moments where Danny felt it the strongest; Sam burrowed into him with his eyes as wide and wondering as the day they’d met. This was what love was to him.
“Sam,” Danny whispered sincerely, voice low and breathless. “If it meant I got to keep you by my side for 10 extra minutes, I’d live today over and over again. Do you understand? There is nothing you could put me through that I wouldn’t stick around for. Not when I’m this ridiculously in love with you.”
Sam’s already wide eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets at that, pupils expanding slowly as a nervous smile wound its way onto his flushed face. Danny smiled at him, feeling a flush of his own beginning to heat his body from his heart outwards.
“You’re what?” Sam asked, leaning back slightly to look at Danny properly.
“You heard me,” Danny teased, pinching the rosy apple of Sam’s cheek. “What do you think about that?”
“I think you’re crazy,” Sam laughed, shimmying in their cocoon of blankets and limbs to readjust his arms to wrap around Danny’s neck. “And may have been dropped on your head as a baby.”
“How did you know that?”
“It’s the only rational explanation as to why you’d go and say that,” Sam flouted breezily.
“Is it really so hard to believe?” Danny asked, making a pitiful face that made Sam’s heart flutter. “You make it very easy to be in love with you, as a matter of fact. I don’t have to try at all.”
“I love you,” Sam murmured, in awe. It’s not like he was stupid, he knew Danny had to have loved him for them to have gotten as far as they had, but it still felt entirely unexpected to actually hear it. After a year of being startled awake by Sam’s sleep talking, patiently listening to stories of the worst of Sam’s childhood punishments, even sleeping sitting up in a jail cell in New Mexico when Sam’s newfound chutzpah found purchase with a rowdy biker, there was Danny at the end of it all. Patiently awaiting what fresh hell Sam would drag him into next.
“I love you, too,” Danny assured him. “But are you in love with me?”
“Fucking obviously,” Sam blurted. “I'm so in love with you, Danny, fuck. I didn’t realize I even had to clarify that.”
“Of course you did! How else would I know?” Danny laughed, eyes glittering with glee and relief at Sam’s confirmation.
“I thought I had made myself plenty clear when I followed you across the country with zero hesitation. Twice.”
“I guess that’s fair.”
“Also, I mean, you popped my cherry, so.”
“You weren’t gonna give that up for just anyone, huh?” Danny laughed, his freckled nose crinkling.
“Nope,” Sam smiled flirtatiously. “I was saving it for truuue looove.”
“Is that what this is?” Danny asked softly, his smile paling with uncertainty as he searched Sam’s dark eyes.
“I hope so,” Sam breathed, his heart racing just as fast as it did when he was still learning to look at Danny without feeling faint. “Do you think it is?”
“I do,” Danny said sincerely, cupping Sam’s jaw. “Let’s say it is and go from there.”
“Works for me,” Sam agreed, nervously tilting his chin forward and melting from the inside out when Danny met him with a fiery kiss.
Sam was no stranger to the possessive pressure Danny preferred to apply when kissing, but there was something fierce behind this kiss that left Sam feeling utterly and completely loved. Lying in the same bed just over a year ago, Sam recalled how he’d bundle the blankets into a wall to press his back against as he slept, pretending it was someone to keep him steady and wake him in the morning. He thought of how that was something he didn’t need to dream about anymore. He thought of how lucky he was. How blessed.
“I’m starting to think Josh may have been right,” Sam sighed against Danny’s mouth, now tucked under him with Danny’s loose curls tickling his cheeks. “I think you’re my guardian angel.”
“You’re the angel here,” Danny insisted, thinking of Sam’s tattoo and feeling his thighs tighten unconsciously on either side of Sam’s hips. “Never gonna let anyone clip your wings ever again.”
“I’m serious,” Sam whined, twining his fingers in Danny’s hair and pulling him closer. “You’re the real deal.”
“Maybe Josh did get one thing right tonight.”
“Speaking of Josh…how do you feel about another passenger on our way to Florida?”
“He’s going to have to share the backseat with Jake if that’s the new plan, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I convinced Jake to pack up too.”
“Family road trip,” Sam sang. “I hope your parents don’t mind.”
“No, they’ll love a full house,” Danny answered. “And my sister will love peer pressuring them into doing stupid shit.”
“I can’t wait to see them drunk for the first time,” Sam confessed with a laugh. “They’ll be fucking ridiculous.”
“I don’t know if you’ll want to see them like that if they’re anything like you were the first time you got drunk,” Danny teased, nipping at Sam’s earlobe. “I’ve still never heard you talk like you did that night.”
“Stop that,” Sam giggled, muffling a squeak when Danny kissed the sensitive skin under his ear. “I don’t even remember half of that night.”
“Your brain is protecting your dignity,” Danny joked, his voice low and warm against the shell of Sam’s ear. “You were kind of a slut.”
“Yeah?” Sam asked weakly, panting slightly from so little. Danny tended to do that to him.
“Oh, yeah. Big time. You cried when I wouldn’t put it in.”
Sam immediately slapped a hand over Danny’s mouth and shushed him theatrically, attempting to smother him when Danny laughed hysterically and tried to lick and bite at his fingers.
“What if they heard you!” Sam hissed, his wrists now pinned beside him as Danny held him down with visible triumph.
“Then I’ll apologize!” Danny laughed, jostling as Sam tried to wrench himself out from under him. “You’re the one making the mattress squeak all suspiciously. This is a Christian household, Sam, I mean really.”
“Shut up!”
“You shut up!”
“I hate you,” Sam declared quietly, sharp eyes trained up at Danny with a glimmer of mischief dancing at his waterline. Danny smiled fondly and lowered himself so their chests were pressed together. He cocked his head, looking Sam over with his hazel eyes lush with emotion.
“And I will love you ‘til the day I die, Sam Kiszka,” Danny announced, pressing his lips to Sam’s with careful appreciation and keeping them there for the hours that followed.
In the morning, they’d clamor and argue and shed tears before pulling out of Shady Grove with a body in every seat of Danny’s beat up little truck. They’d follow the fate line to Florida to settle and heal and wander from the path like they always did. But that night, they had nothing to do but lay under the blanket of the whistling Alabama sky and love each other.
They’d find in the years and decades that followed, it never got much more complicated than that.
~~
Taglist: @holdingup-fallingsky @milojames16 @spark-my-nature @bladenotblaze @currentlyfangirling10
#i struggled so hard to finish this BUT im proud!!!!#theyre so fucking cute#gvf#greta van fleet#danny wagner#sam kiszka#sanny gvf#greta van fleet fanfiction#greta van art#karoufiction
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I don’t wanna ship them-
but the parasites in me want to ship them
They’re just best friends-
but the parasites the demon in me
#this is what happens when I’m on my phone for too long at work#also why I limit my TikTok time 😅#Sam Kiszka#danny wagner
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Reaching New Heights
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.”
#gvf#jake kiszka#greta van fleet#sam kiszka#jake gvf#sam gvf#danny wagner#josh gvf#gvf fic#danny gvf#request#jake kiszka blurb#jake kiszka gvf#jake kiszka series#jake kiszka fluff#jake kiszka fic#jake kiszka angst#jake kiszka x reader#jake kiszka smut#jake kiszka fanfic#gvf fluff#gvf smut#gvf angst#gvf fanfiction#greta van fleet angst#greta van fleet fluff#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet smut#greta van fleet imagine#builtbybrokenbells
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the shy boy being beautiful and well spoken in his interview 🥺🫶
#jake kiszka#greta van fleet#gvf#josh kiszka#sam kiszka#danny wagner#i love jake sm like wahhhhhh godddd i lvoe u#hes soooo cute and funny an d i love him#and him saying it can be done about following ure dreams makes me cry :( <3#jacob#mywork
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Let's Talk
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?”
Share your thoughts/feedback! | Masterlist
#jake kiszka#greta van fleet#jake gvf#gvf#greta van fic#jake kiszka x reader#jake kiszka fanfic#jake kiszka one shot#jake kiszka fanfiction#jake kiszka smut#jake kiszka gvf#jake kiszka fluff#josh kiszka#danny wagner#josh gvf#daniel wagner#sam kiszka#sammy gvf
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Whatever you do, don't think about the fact that their love language is physical touch.
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Thinking about her again
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4/18/24
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Exposure
Word count: 11.3k
Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Female Reader
Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking. Smut: Kissing, Stripping, Photo Exhibitionism, Touching, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Oral M!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Breeding Kink, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.
A/N: Oh! Didn't see you there! Happy February! Welcome to the very first installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy this first story in the set of four. We can't wait to share the rest with you! See you real soon!
You pull your jacket snug against your chest, your camera bag hanging heavy on your shoulder as you make the trek up to the front door of the house. You can hear music coming from the basement already, likely the bands warming up before the show starts. You sneak through the front door, breezing through the mostly empty house in search of the basement. Following the noise, you walk down the stairs and into a small swarm of people all bustling and busy trying to get things set up before the show. How you got roped into shooting a basement show on Valentine's day of all days is beyond you, although it’s not like you have anything better to do.
Your eyes search around for any sign of your friends but you know they’re probably either running late, which is not shocking, or busy unloading their gear outside. You typically never shoot events like this- well, this small, but a favor for your best friend was long overdue. You stand at a small table loading the film into your camera, her one begging request of her set being captured on film, about to be fulfilled. You look around for any other photographers but you see no one, and it’s then that you realize just how small of a gig this really is.
You did your best to blend in tonight, donning the industry standard of black, but realizing now that it almost wouldn’t have mattered what you wore. You kept it simple with a black long sleeve shirt, and a pair of black leather pants, adding a heeled boot to give yourself a little extra height behind the lens.
You grab an extra roll of film and shove it into your pants pocket before placing your camera bag beneath the stage for safe keeping. People are quickly starting to fill the small basement, and you’re thankful for this weeks’ cold snap, knowing that this basement would be sweltering otherwise. You pull your phone from your pocket checking for any signs of life from your friends, laughing as you see a ‘we’re running late’ text. Shaking your head you put your phone back in your pocket and start to check your settings, adjusting to the lowlight of the room.
The basement is fully packed at this point, the first band stepping on to the stage and starting things off with a blaring guitar intro. The lights dim even further, causing you to adjust your settings again, and you wonder if you need to grab your flash attachment. You feel a tap on your shoulder, a rush of nerves in your chest as you spin around to see who it could be.
“Are you shooting film?” A pair of dark brown eyes asks, a look of genuine curiosity painted across the irises.
You smile and hold up your camera, “Yeah, I am! How did you know?”
A smile sweeps across his face, his long dark hair hanging well past his shoulders, but partially obscured under a red beanie. His cheeks are flushed red, either from the cold outside, the alcohol in his system, or the weight of his cable knit sweater. “I’m a bit of a hobbyist. Specifically film. I recognized your camera.”
“You did? This thing is pretty old.” you say, pulling your hair from beneath your camera strap.
“Yeah, I have the same one. Mines the silver version though.” he says, leaning in closely so that you can hear him over the loud music.
You look up at him, and nod, leaning back in towards him as you respond. “Oh really? Does yours have the battery door issue?”
His hand lays softly against your shoulder as he leans in closer, ready to respond but your attention is ripped away as you see your friends in your peripheral.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, my friends just walked in and they are actually supposed to go on next.” you say holding up your camera to show your purpose of being here in the first place.
“You’re fine, go ahead.” he smiles, pulling away from you and taking a sip from his seltzer.
You send him a soft smile, taking a final look at him before turning to meet your friends. As you walk up to meet them you can’t help but to look over to where you were just standing, finding the mystery man gone. You scan the room as your friends talk at you, looking for any sight of him, but you’re snapped back to the present as they are called up to the stage.
With a hug from your best friend and a kiss on the cheek she darts up the small stairs with a smile. “Wish us luck! And make sure you get my good side!”
You make your way towards the front of the stage, checking your settings one more time as the band starts to play. Admittedly, they sound a lot better than they did the last time you saw them perform, and the crowd behind you really seems to be into them. You even notice a few people wearing their merch and wonder when that happened. Had you really been that absent?
You duck down as you work your way across the front of the stage, snapping photos of your friends as they play their hearts out. You quietly apologize to the people you block with your camera, taking a quick glance behind you with each step you take. About two songs into their set you’ve made your way to the opposite side of the stage, looking behind you only to catch a glance of your mystery guy, standing against the wall with his drink.
You try to pretend you didn’t see him, but it’s no use as you trip over an electrical cord and make a complete spectacle of yourself in the process. However, when you don't collide with the concrete of the basement floor and instead are met with a pair of warm steady hands, you feel a sigh of relief hoping that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t see you trip after all. Turning to face your hero, you’re met with none other than your hobbyist.
A grin spreads across his face as he helps you to stand, one hand in his, and the other firmly planted on your camera.
“Falling for me so soon? At least tell me your name first…” he jokes, letting go of you as you steady yourself on your feet.
“Y/N…And thanks, I– guess they ran out of Gaff tape and I found the only cord not taped down.” you laugh.
He smiles and shakes his head in faux disgust, “Rule number one, always carry an extra roll in your gig box for the ladies. I’m Sam, by the way.”
“Well, Sam, thank you for not letting me fall in front of all of these people.” you laugh.
“Oh, I was actually saving the camera… Precious vintage...” he winks, pursing his lips together.
“Oh, of course. Yeah.” you stammer, suddenly feeling ridiculous.
As if he can sense your distress he places a hand on your arm, “Wait no, I was kidding. Of course I was saving you. Let me– Can I get you a drink?” he asks, trying for a peace offering.
“I think I’m kinda out of hands…” you laugh, snapping a photo as you focus through the viewfinder.
“I’m not…” he counters, “Whad’ya want? I’ll grab it for you…”
You lick over your lips, deciding maybe a drink assistant wouldn’t be too bad. You turn over your shoulder as he leans close letting you talk into his ear. “A seltzer, I don’t care what flavor, surprise me.”
He gives you an understanding nod and turns on his heels, disappearing into the crowd.
You watch your friends start to close up their set and you compose another set of photos you think will be the shots of the night.
“A drink for the lady…” he says, as he holds a drink up in front of the lens. You lower your camera and spin around to grab it from him, watching him crack the lid open before he hands it to you.
“Prickly pear, huh…” you pause, taking a sip of the fizzy drink. “Did you know that was my favorite or just a lucky guess?”
“Well, I figured… you have great taste in cameras…” he trails off, taking the drink back from you so you can continue to shoot.
You feel him lean into your shoulder, his warm breath on your neck. “The red light really does nothing for photos, does it…” he laughs.
“No, and I’m half convinced that’s why they do it.” you retort.
“Oh, it definitely is. Trust me. That and it looks badass.” he laughs, stepping back again.
As the set ends you watch your friends leave the stage, ready to drink and party with the rest of you. The room quiets to a dull roar as the next band starts to take the stage, ready to set up their equipment. You lower your camera around your neck, letting it hang freely as you turn back to Sam.
“You get the shot?” he asks, sipping the same Prickly Pear Topo Chico.
“I think so, looks like I’ve got…” you pause, checking your dial. “Two left on this roll. Should probably change over before the next act. Here, smile.” you say, holding the viewfinder to your eye.
He blushes a little, holding both of the drinks in his hands and giving you wide open mouth smile.
You capture those last two images and hear the winder start to spin. “That’ll do it!” you say, dropping your camera around your neck and pulling the extra black film cartridge from your pocket.
“Oh here, let me help you. You have your drink…” he offers, holding out your can.
“No! You don’t have to do that, it’s totally fine, I’ve got it. Just need to find a table or something so I can–”
“I know I don’t have to, I just– want to. I wanna help.” he says, his eyes sweet and genuine.
You think about it for a second, and consider that you really don’t have anything to lose. He wouldn’t be offering if he didn’t know what he was doing.
“Okay, sure, I’ll hold your drink now.” you smile.
His eyes are focused as he works to remove the used film, replacing it with the new roll as quickly and efficiently as he can, making sure not to expose the roll. He clips the door shut and makes sure it's secure before placing the camera strap back over your head, pulling your hair out from beneath the straps as gently as possible.
“There. Perfect.” he says, a warm smile on his lips.
“Thanks Sam.” you answer, offering his drink back to him.
“You can call me Sammy. All my friends do.” he says, accepting the wet can.
“Oh, are we friends now?” you ask playfully, all the while thinking that you might want to be a little more than that.
“I’d like to think so. Or– I hope so. I think you’re cute, film camera girl.”
“Do you?” you murmur, holding the can to your lips.
As if feeling a little shy, he ducks his head a little and licks his lips, “I do.”
Before you can reciprocate his sentiment the third band starts, and somehow they are even louder than your friend's band previously. The drums are blaring loud and you can tell they need their mics turned down about three notches. You take a few photos, figuring you can never have too much in your portfolio, but after a few shots and the crowd becoming a little too rowdy, you quickly decide you are done ‘working’ for the night. You lower your camera down and spin to talk to Sam, but you find he’s gone.
Your eyes scan the crowd for him, but again, you see no trace of the cream colored sweater or his red beanie in the sea of people. You do, however, spot your best friend off in the corner of the room being hit on by someone you know to be exactly her type. You lock eyes with her, raising a brow and she just smiles at you as she continues to talk to the tall dark haired man.
Letting her have her time with him, you make your way back to the stage to grab your camera bag. You head up the stairs, grabbing a new drink from the bar area and again searching for any signs of him. You mingle with a few strangers, making pointless small talk about work and the latest gossip before excusing yourself to the bathroom to pee. As you wash your hands you sigh at the missed connection with such a thoughtful and good looking guy, but chalk it up to being Valentine’s Day and not wanting to fall into that stereotype.
With your new friend gone, you decide to seek out some of your old ones. With your gear bag slung over your shoulder, you head towards the thick crowd in the main living room. As you make your way through, your neck cranes around the bodies in your way, searching for a familiar face. Looking out the back window, you see your friends near their band’s van. You push open the squeaky screen door and are greeted with a harsh gust of freezing cold wind. You retract, and before you can regain your senses, you hear someone calling your name from a little ways away.
When you get your eyes open, Sam is standing against the side of the house, exhaling a puff of smoke. He’s giving you a sweet, closed lipped smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. You feel a few butterflies in your stomach as you take in his sweet face, relieved that he’s happy to see you hasn’t disappeared like you thought. You approach him with a sweet smile, holding on to your bag strap with both hands while your main camera hangs around your neck.
“It’s cold as fuck out here.” You say honestly, suppressing a grin. He nods, taking another inhale off the cigarette between his fingers, his smile making it a little difficult. “I thought you left.” you add while he exhales the smoke away from your face.
“What, without you?” He says with a quirked brow and a playful smolder. You laugh, stunned silent by his charisma. He realizes and laughs it off, reaching towards you. “You need a hand taking that stuff to your car?” He asks, dropping his cigarette onto the lawn and stepping on it. He offers you a hand and you willingly offer up your bag, even though you really don’t need to.
“I didn’t really feel the need to get any more photos of the third band. I didn’t think the headache was worth it.” You say, a little tongue in cheek as you walk. Sam laughs loudly once, like it slipped out, then shakes his head looking at the ground in front of him.
“I was trying not to be too judgmental but, yeesh. They’re really something, aren’t they?” You laugh and pop open your trunk and he sees inside as he puts your bag in.
“You have a Pentax too?” He asks, seeing the other bag you left in the trunk.
“I do. I have a couple lenses for it, I use it when I shoot… bigger stuff.” You say, not trying to sound braggy.
“That sucker is heavy though. You must be jacked if you’re holding it up for an entire show.” He jokes, reaching for your bicep and squeezing twice. You flex a little, giving him a wink before you break character and laugh with him. You pull your camera from around your neck and slip it into its case.
“No but, I uh, I have a couple lenses too. I have a pretty big collection… It’s actually getting a bit out of hand at this point. If you ever want to borrow anything...” He mentons, helping you close the trunk. When he reaches up, his sweater rides up a bit and reveals that he’s got a white shoestring laced through the loops of his pants like a belt.
“I’d love to check it out,” you say honestly, rubbing your arms to try and warm up. The wind is brutal but the conversation is worth freezing for.
“This may be a bit forward… but the weather sucks, this music sucks… We could go have a drink at my place and I could show you?” He offers, shrugging a little bit.
“Well…” you start, looking over at the van on the other side of the yard. Your friend seems to be deep in conversation with the guy who was helping her load up, so you’re sure she won’t miss you if you slip away. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go.”
“Two things, though. One, we have to take your car, since my friend was my ride. Two, I’m driving, because you’ve had a few.” He says, giving you a boyish smile and holding out his hands so you can put the keys in them. You eye him with playful suspicion for a moment, but then figure you’ve got nothing to lose.
“Fine.” You flick open your car key and offer it to him between two fingers with a grin.
As he gets in, you can’t help but micromanage his actions with your car as you buckle your seatbelt. “The emergency brake is down by your left foot, and just ignore the light on the dash.”
“I guess I should have told you that I have, indeed, driven a car before. I’m qualified.” He says, starting it and adjusting the mirrors. He’s a good bit taller than you, so he cranks the rearview upwards quite a bit. You roll your eyes at his comment, letting the radio play quietly rather than anything from your phone for fear of judgment.
“There aren’t any street lights on these back roads. You should put the high beams on.” You comment, looking over at him for a moment, taking in his side profile. He cracks a wry smirk and flourishes his hand, turning them on.
“You’re kinda bossy, aren’t you?” He asks, not looking away from the road. You snicker softly.
“When I want to be.”
Before he can say anything in response, his phone starts to buzz in the center console. He reaches for it, swiping quickly across the screen to answer the call from a contact named Danny.
“Daniel!” He shouts, putting the phone on speaker. Without hesitation, you take it from him so he can use both of his hands and drive. He doesn’t object as the voice from the other end of the phone pipes up.
“Where’d you get off to?”
“Uh, I left. Are you good to get home?” Sam answers, flipping the brights off when a car drives by on the opposite side of the road. He puts them back on once the coast is clear.
“I’m fine, yeah, just checking in. Didn’t know you left. You bag that chick you were chatting with?”
You huff a laugh and look over to Sam shaking your head. Is this really how guys talk on the phone?
“Daniel, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell…” he jokes, sending you a wink.
“Right, are you going to that event tomorrow?”
“I had forgotten about it until this very second, but yeah. I said I would. Are you?” Sam says, and you pick up a bit of an accent. There’s a long A in forgotten where the second O should go. You smile softly as you watch the road and listen to them talk.
“Hell no. Neither is Jake. You’re stuck with Josh and his girl. So, have fun with that.” Daniel says, and you can hear him getting into his car on the other end of the line.
“Fuck. Alright, get home safe.” Sam says, sighing. They end the call and you’re more than tempted to ask him the meaning of all that, but he’s pulling into his driveway and the nerves start to take over, shutting you up. “Sorry about that,” he says, parking your car in his driveway next to his own.
“Do you live by yourself?” You ask, getting out of the passenger seat. The wind is still strong and it chills you to the bone. Sam sees and picks up his pace as he leads you to the front door.
“Yeah, it’s just me.” he says, looking over his shoulder as he puts his key in the door. It’s warmly lit inside his house once he steps inside and flips on the lights. There’s an array of musical instruments scattered about as soon as you enter, amps and drums and guitars either hanging on the wall or resting against each other. You raise your brows, looking over at him.
“You’re a musician, too?” You ask as he puts your keys on the cabinet near the front door. There are sliding doors across the front that are opened just slightly to reveal a substantial vinyl collection.
“I have many hobbies.”
You smile as you follow him through the house, looking around at the art covering his walls. It smells like incense and it’s warm- a little warmer than you would keep your house, but it’s cozy.
“I keep everything in here,” he starts, flipping on the lightswitch in one of the bedrooms. It’s furnished with a daybed, like a guest bedroom, but the opposite wall has a desk and shelving full of cameras, cases, lenses, accessories, attachments galore. You raise your brows, surprised, but mostly impressed.
It’s a solid half hour that you spend going item by item, gently looking over everything he’s collected, from vintage to like-new, functioning and under repair. He makes a point to tell you where he got each one, the quirks and intricacies of them all.
“That one’s really my favorite for portraits,” he says as you look over a lightweight film camera with a noisy lens, clicks filling the room. “She’s got a way about her that makes everyone look good, you know?” You nod, looking it over, peeking through the viewfinder.
“I dunno, I might be a lost cause.” You say, a little self deprecating. He sucks his teeth at you in playful disappointment.
“I just mean that, you know, as photographers, there aren’t many photos of us. I don’t think I’d know how to pose myself for a portrait.”
“Well, you don’t pose yourself, silly.” He says, looking up at you, not lifting his head and moving only his eyes. There’s a little smirk on his lips. “We should try it.”
You give him a suspicious look, laughing nervously.
“I look like a mess from the wind and… I’m hardly wearing any makeup..” You say, starting to rattle off excuses as your cheeks heat up.
“So? You look perfect. I don’t want to take… fuckin’ headshots. I want to capture you. This version of you, the pretty photographer that I’ve spent my evening with.”
The two of you lock eyes for a moment, his honeyed irises so warm and kind and sweet that you probably can’t say no to him if your life depended on it.
“Okay.”
That’s how you end up in his sunroom, sitting patiently on his couch as he gets set up, sipping a glass of wine. The room is full of plants and you brush your hand against the burnt orange velvet upholstery of his couch underneath you. You watch him move around the room, pushing the ottoman out of the way, adjusting the throw pillows on the opposite end. He reaches behind his head and pulls his thick sweater off, his shirt riding up to show that little shoestring belt and this time, a light dusting of hair above the waistband of his pants. He tosses aside the sweater, leaving him in a white t-shirt. You swallow a gulp of your wine, feeling a little warm.
“I like how you said, ‘as photographers,’ like you looped me in there with you,” he muses. “You’re a professional. I don’t belong in the ranks with you.” He says, grinning as he uses an app on his phone to mess with the lighting from the lamp in the room. It’s a hazy, warm light when he’s done, absolutely flattering to the eye, so you can only imagine how it’s going to look when he captures you.
“If you take pictures, and you enjoy it, you’re a photographer. I don’t think it’s fair to gate keep art of any kind, or… something that brings people joy, you know?” You say, watching as he grabs a cream colored, cable knit throw reminiscent of his sweater and drapes it behind you.
“That makes sense. Not all photographers are as humble as you, though.” He says, looking down at the camera and making some adjustments. He holds it up and looks at you, then he pulls it away. He looks again, then he hums like he’s thinking about something.
“This black shirt is kind of one-dimensional. I feel like it’s swallowing you up, you know? I feel like there's too much contrast with the colors in the room.”
You sip your wine and think for a moment, looking around. He’s probably right.
“What do you think about green?” you ask, leaning forward, placing the wine glass on the table in front of you.
“Do you have another– oh…” he starts, but is effectively silenced when you start to pull your shirt over your head. Underneath, you’re in a sage green longline bralette, the band of lace under your chest covering a good two inches of your waist. It’s not too revealing and from the shoulders up, it probably looks like a shirt. You shake out your hair and look up at him, tossing your shirt aside.
“Does that look better?” You ask, smirking at his reaction, pretending to be all business. He looks at you through the viewfinder and you hear him clear his throat.
“Much better. Yep. Uh huh.” he says, hiding his face behind the camera, but you know he’s looking at you. “Sit up for me?”
You adjust the way you’re sitting, sitting up straighter. He lets the camera hang around his neck as he approaches you, reaching out to gently position you. He puts your hand in your lap, then gently pushes some hair behind your shoulder. The other side, he wraps around his finger once, making sure it lays in a flattering way. He looks at you, not scrutinizing you, but deciding what he wants to do with you. His touch makes you feel like you’re on fire, his hands warm and so gentle, his motions purposeful and confident despite the delicate way he handles you.
He crouches down in front of you, holding the camera to his eye, and you feel a wave of panic wash over you. You suddenly feel exposed in front of the lens, and it must be evident on your face as he moves his finger from the shutter release and lowers the camera from his eye. “You feel nervous.” he states with the nod of his head.
You shrug ever so slightly, finally feeling the nerves your clients tend to feel. You try to shake it off, but Sam, ever perceptive, pulls the camera from around his neck and sits it next to you on the couch. He pulls his own shirt over his head, leaving him in the same state of undress as you are. “There. Even?” he asks with a cheeky smile.
You smile and nod, doing your best not to stare at the small smattering of a happy trail at the top of his pants. You bite your lips together before looking back into the lens, hearing the shutter click and the film wind. He brings his hand up to your chin, tilting your face to the side with the gentle touch of his index finger. He pulls it back quickly, returning to the shutter button and snapping another photo. He hums from his place behind the lens, standing quickly and scanning the room for something.
His heavy footfall pads across the room, snatching something from his piano bench before returning to his place on the floor in front of you. In his hands is a multicolored jewel tone pashmina, soft and worn, and clearly a staple in his wardrobe.
“Can we try this?” he asks, holding it up against your skin.
“Let me see…” you answer, grabbing it and draping it over your chest. With your torso completely covered you reach beneath it, pulling the green bralette over your head as he watches you with wide eyes. You toss it to the floor next to him, and reposition the fabric to just cover your chest as you lean back into the couch.
He swallows nervously as he stretches up towards the couch, adjusting the fabric how he sees fit. Your stomach shows beneath the edge of colorful fabric, the curve of your breast just peeking from the top.
“I– I think this is gonna be a good shot.” he says, looking at you through the lens. “Lean your head back a little more, and turn it to the side, just a touch.”
You follow his instruction, knowing the angles of this shot have to be incredible from his place on the floor.
“Perfect, I just…Didn’t want any shadows on your throat…” he whispers from behind the camera. You hear the shutter click, and a murmur of ‘fuck’ leave his lips.
You stay where you are as he lowers the camera, his breathing picking up a little bit as he tries to remain calm. “Your skin is so…pretty…” he breathes, letting his eyes sweep over you.
Your eyes connect with his, and in an act of insanity you pull away the pashmina, letting it pool at your side. His eyes can’t help but to flick down to your chest, his jaw dropping slightly before he notices and looks back up at your eyes.
“We don’t have to–”
“Do you not want to?” you ask, settling back onto the couch.
“No, I very much do.” he answers a little too quickly.
“So go ahead. Capture me.”
He takes a deep breath, holding the camera to his eye and lowering it back down. He grabs your hand and places it gingerly over your chest, letting your fingers rest just over your nipple. He brings the camera back to his eye, and takes the photo. “Fuck you’re gorgeous.”
Your cheeks blush and you hear the shutter click again.
“Sorry, but I think that's the prettiest shade of pink I’ve ever seen.” he says.
You smile and shake your head, letting your hand trail to the button of your pants. You slide the button through the loop and pull the long zipper, until just the smallest glimpse of your thong is visible.
You watch him swallow nervously again, focusing the camera on your hand as it lays across your stomach. As he captures the photo, you watch him try to recenter himself, knowing that he is probably just as turned on by this as you are, if not more.
“Take them off…” you suggest, watching his eyes flick up to yours.
“You sure?” he asks again, making sure you’re still comfortable.
“Very. If you are, I mean.”
“Lay across the couch. On your stomach.” he instructs, moving himself to sit on the edge of the chaise to your left. You position yourself against the plush couch, propping yourself up on your elbows, as you look back at him sitting behind you.
“Yeah, just like that. Stay there. Look at me, beautiful.” he says, growing more confident.
He leans forward, swiping your hair over your shoulder, giving him an unobstructed view of the curve of your back. And just as your eyes connect with the lens, he presses the button.
“Perfect.” he breathes, lowering the camera again. He stands from his place behind you, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, pulling them gently down your hips until they rest at the apex of your ass. Your thong is fully visible now, only the floral lace resting against your hips.
He moves back and you feel the couch dip as he kneels behind you, straightening the seam of the pants to rest perfectly in the center, his fingers brushing against your bare skin. You feel the goosebumps rise, and you hear the shutter, smiling as you know he’s caught the moment.
“Are you always this responsive to touch…” he asks, sliding your pants further down over your ass, pulling each leg free until the leather fabric is in a pile on the floor.
“No. Only when it’s really good…” you answer.
“Lift your hips up for me, rest on your knees a little, and arch your back.” he says, kneeling on the edge of the couch. His hand slides down your back to assist you, and slides back up, stopping at the hem of your panties. Two fingers hook into the fabric, pulling it down just slightly as you hear the camera shutter.
You can feel your arousal between your legs, not too far from where his fingers linger, but he releases your panties, sliding them back into place and letting his hand drift over the curve of your ass. He stands up in front of you, and you drop back down, stretching fully across the couch. You lay your head on your hands as you look up at him, watching him crouch down in front of you. He pulls a few pieces of hair over your shoulder, and moves your arm further up to reveal the swell of your breast as it presses against his couch cushion.
“Pop your hips up just a touch...” he breathes, holding the camera to his eye. “Look at me, baby.”
You bat your eyes as you look at him, seeing the photo in the reflection of the lens as he takes it.
His chest is heaving as he pulls the camera away, crawling towards you on his knees as he dusts his fingers over your spine. “You make an incredible muse…”
“A good photographer knows that seeing isn’t enough. You have to feel it.” you answer, melting into the feeling of his skin on yours.
“I think I feel it too much…”
He slides his hand down your arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you back to a sitting position. He reaches for your wine glass, turning back to you and placing it into your hand. You bring it to your lips, but as you tip the glass a stream of red wine trickles down the stem, dripping rapidly onto your stomach.
His eyes flick to yours, then down to the small streak of red against your skin, leaning his head forward and letting his warm tongue lap at the spilled alcohol.
Your eyes close on their own, a breath leaving your lips at the feeling of his lips on your body. He pulls back from you, waiting for your eyes to open, and as they meet you can see he’s asking for permission to continue.
You open your legs allowing him to move closer, and he takes that as his consent to move between them. He pulls the camera from around his neck, placing it gently on the couch next to you, before grabbing your wine glass and placing it on the coffee table behind him.
His hands slide up your thighs, his eyes examining every inch of your skin until he meets the edge of your panties. His eyes meet yours and you nod, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on your skin again.
He hooks his fingers through the fabric and pulls them over your hips, tossing them to the floor with the rest of your clothes. He takes in a deep breath, lowering his face to your heat, but never breaking the eye contact he has with you. You let a hand slide through his silky waves, silently telling him you wanted this, and he obliges, pressing a kiss to your groin.
You feel his tongue swipe up through your center, long and slow, hot and soft against you. You fist his hair at the contact, a hum leaving his lips as they vibrate against your clit. Your legs open wider, allowing him to hook his arms beneath your legs, pulling you down the couch to meet his mouth. His tongue works at your clit, flicking back and forth as wet sounds fill the air in the room. His cheeks are flushed as his wet lips suction around you, his brown eyes fluttering closed with every pointed lick.
You can hardly tear your gaze away from him, your chest heaving as he brings you closer and closer to your release. Your hand reaches out to grip into the cushion, instead landing on the body of the camera next to you. It feels cold against your hand, and as you look at him you realize you might feel it a little too much, too.
Grasping it in your hand you pull the viewfinder to your eye, positioning him in the frame as he continues to work you towards your orgasm. As his eyes flick up to you, he's met with the camera lens, hesitating momentarily before pulling an elastic from his wrist. He doesn’t cease his actions as he pulls his hair into a messy bun, resting low on the back of his neck. He places his soft hands on the insides of your thighs, looking up into the lens with his blissed out eyes, ready for you to capture the scene below you.
Hearing the shutter, he grips into you harder, sucking your clit into his mouth with more force, desperate to get you there. His fingers brush your entrance, and with a carefully timed swipe of his tongue he presses them forward until his thumb replaces his tongue applying pressure to your clit. His fingers work inside of you until your legs start to shake with desperation. He replaces his thumb with his lips once more, the warm, wet sensation inching you closer and closer.
You take a few more shots, hoping to capture the way his dark lashes kiss his cheeks, and the way his nose brushes against you so delicately. Knowing the most vulnerable shots are usually the best.
He ruts his hips into the couch, desperate for some relief and the groan that leaves his chest is all it takes to push you to the edge. You drop the camera to your side, pulling his face to your body as your orgasm rocks through you. A pathetic sounding whine leaves your lips as his mouth slows, he pulls his fingers from you as gently as possible.
You’re left a panting mess as you ride the waves of your high, but as you open your eyes and see him licking his fingers, you reach for the camera once more, capturing the act forever on film.
He stands, offering you his hand with a smirk. You can’t help but to notice that his fingers are still pruny and soft as you place your hand in his, letting him pull your shaky body from his couch. He bends over and snatches the camera from the couch cushion before pulling you down the hallway towards his bedroom.
As you step over the threshold into his bedroom, you’re met with the dark walls and rich earth toned bedding. He drops your hand, and checks his film, before setting the camera on the edge of his bed. He grabs your hand again, and pulls you into him, snaking his other hand around your waist and pulling you close to his body. His eyes search yours before his lips crash to yours, a heady mix of cigarettes, red wine, and you.
Your tongue tangles with his as his hands grip into your hips, his hardness pressing against your bare stomach. You pull away, locking your eyes on his as you fall to your knees in front of him. You slide your hands up his thighs until you reach the thin white shoelace at his waist, pulling the tip until it unknots itself and slides to the floor. You feel him reach for the camera, letting it hang around his neck once more as he watches you.
You unbutton his pants, feeling the brush of his length against your hand. You work quickly to pull the pants and boxers to the floor, letting him step out of them as you take in the sight of him bare in front of you. You lean forward to kiss at the smattering of hair at his happy trail but you’re quickly stopped before your lips ever make it there.
He grabs your chin in his hand, placing his thumb over your swollen pink lips, pulling the plump flesh down to expose your bottom teeth as the camera snaps the image above you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can think of nothing but the feeling of your mouth around him.
Unable to wait any longer you grab him in your fist, stroking him a few times back and forth as his eyes study your movements. You wet your lips in preparation for him, letting your tongue dart out to lick a hot stripe up the underside of his cock.
He pulls the camera to his eye again, “Stay like that. Just like that baby. Look up at me.”
He rests the tip of his cock in your open mouth, snapping a few shots as he leaks onto your tongue, before tossing the camera to the bed. “Fuck, are you sure you’ve never done this before? You look so fucking gorgeous.”
You smile around him, closing your lips and humming in response. You let your tongue slide up his length, taking him as far back as you can the first few times before working into a steady rhythm. Your eyes are locked on his, a look of awe and desperation written into his features.
His hand finds grip in your hair, moving with you as you work him, gentle whines falling from his lips as you swirl over his tip with each upward stroke.
Swallowing around him he sucks in a harsh breath, letting you slide back up before repeating the action. You tense around him as you gag, your eyes blinking away tears wanting to continue. Your eyes roll back as you taste the saltiness on your tongue knowing he is nearing his release.
He pulls away from you, cupping your face in his big warm hands, his thumbs swiping away errant tears.
“I– You’re– Get on the bed for me, sweetness. Wanna ruin that pretty cunt before I cum.”
You look up at him, swallowing thickly, a little shocked by the side of himself he just showed you. You take his hand with a grin as he offers it to you, standing and hopping up onto his bed, laying yourself back on his pillows. He follows you, leaning over to reach for the camera on the nightstand before doing so. He leaves it on the pillow next to your head, focusing all of his attention on you for the time being.
He’s tender for a moment, leaning down to kiss you briefly before he situates himself between your thighs. He kneels above you, looking down at the sight before him. He traces a gentle line down your sternum, then back up, dragging lightly against the expanse of your clavicle, then back down once more. His eyes seem to roam over every inch of you while you wait patiently for things to advance.
“You…” he starts, a breathy laugh leaving his throat, like he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. “So gorgeous.”
“You’re sweet.” you respond, parting your thighs a bit more for him. He hasn’t stopped his feather light touches just yet though.
“Is that how you like it?” he asks, catching you a little off guard. Your eyes flick up to his and you can’t help the way you squirm a little at his directness.
“I…” you start, but he promptly silences you with a pinch to your nipple, pulling a wanton moan from the depths of your chest.
“Ahh. There she is.” He says, smiling. He lets go and leans down to give it a kiss. “Just trying to get a read on you.”
He palms your breast as he pushes back up, unable to take his eyes off of you. You watch the wheels turning in his head as he squeezes firmly, his eyes cutting to the camera next to your head.
He picks it back up, adjusting it with lightning speed. He looks through the viewfinder once before reaching for your tit again, your nipple slipping between his long fingers. He snaps a photo, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth in concentration while the aperture adjusts, the settings on auto now to save time.
“That artistic part of your brain just doesn’t turn off, huh?” you ask, reaching up to run a hand down his stomach, your patience running out.
“Blessing and a curse.” he mumbles, reaching forward into his nightstand. As he’s leaning over you, you can’t help but take a moment to place a few wet, searing kisses to his jaw and throat. You know they’re appreciated when he bucks his hips against you, his dick dragging against the inside of your thigh.
He sits back up, tearing the foil of the condom with little difficulty and flipping it over once or twice to check which way is right. He eventually distinguishes top from bottom and starts to slide it on, looking down in concentration.
After he’s done, he leans down towards you, placing hungry, wet kisses wherever he can find purchase. He reaches between your bodies, taking himself in his palm and brushing the head of his cock through your folds.
“Wait…” you say, and he rests his head on your chest for a moment, looking up at you with patient eyes.
“Yes, sweetness?” he says, pulling back, unsure if you’re about to call the whole thing off. You take a deep breath, reaching down to touch him gently.
“Can we take this off?” You murmur, your hand waiting to pull it off the moment he gives you the green light.
“God, yeah,” he says enthusiastically, a little chuckle leaving him as you haphazardly pull the condom off of him and toss it by the wayside. “Absolutely. Fuck. I want to…” He trails off, like he’s about to say something else, but once you slip the tip of him inside of you, he can’t get a word out.
He pushes in about halfway, stopping to settle and watch your reaction. You gaze up at him, reaching up to play with one of your nipples. He takes in a sharp breath at the sight before pulling out a little before he pushes all the way in, slowly.
“Oh… oh my god,” you manage to get out, unable to help the way the words scratch their way out of your throat. Sam’s eyes are glued to your center, watching himself enter you.
“Everything about you…” he says, taking a trembling breath, “...is fucking picture perfect.”
You smile at the compliment and watch his face for a moment, the way his dark lashes move quickly with his blinking eyes trying to process everything at once. He starts to move slowly, the drag of him making your breath hitch.
He fucks into you slowly, deeply, your head swimming at the sensation. It’s good, but it’s not quite enough, and you can’t help but speak up.
“Sammy…” you begin, calling him by his nickname, like he asked, affectionately. “Harder. Please.”
He snaps his hips into you in response, giving you a dirty smirk from above.
“You’re a backseat driver in the sack, too?” he quips, moving back on his heels a little to change the angle and give himself more range of motion.
“Shut up and fuck me. How’s that?” you bite, grinning up at him. Before you can even prepare yourself, he snatches your wrists, pinning them above your head in just one of his big hands, your slender wrists slotted between his lengthy fingers.
He looks like he’s about to snap back at you, but then his eyes narrow a little. He reaches for the camera again, holding it against the side of his body to flip the switch and open the aperture. He lifts it to his eye and snaps a picture of his hand pinning your wrists together, the strap of the camera falling a little bit into the frame.
Once he’s done, he drops the camera again and braces himself with his free hand, picking up an almost brutal pace. You can’t complain, because it’s what you asked for, and god did he deliver. The sound of skin on skin, his body meeting yours, rhythmically bounces off the walls of his bedroom. You cry out at the feeling of him, reeling at the sensation of him so deep inside you. Warmth starts to build in your stomach, your head getting dizzy.
“Are you getting close?” he asks in your ear, slightly breathless. You whine in the affirmative, spreading your legs further as if you need him even deeper. He lets go of your hands, sitting up a little straighter but still thrusting into you hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. Your eyes start to flutter closed, your back arching, and you feel his hips stutter slightly as he moves a bit on top of you.
There’s some clicking and you know what he’s about to do, but you can’t be bothered to change a single thing about what you’re doing. You reach for your chest, holding your tits steady as he pushes you towards the edge, waiting for the moment.
“Gonna cum…” you warn, your brows knitting together.
“Come on, beautiful. I’m ready.” he coos as it hits you, your lips parting, your head tilting back as you gasp for breath. You don’t register when the shutter sounds, but you feel the camera hit the pillow again and Sam’s got both of his hands on your waist, so you know he must have gotten the shot.
He slows his pace, allowing you to catch your breath and come back down to earth. His hand slides up to your throat, running his thumb over your lips in the same manner he did earlier, but this time instead of letting him tug at your lip you suck his thumb into your mouth.
“Fuck…” he curses under his breath, pulling his hand back and slowly pulling out of you. “Turn over for me.”
You blink up at him, a little bashful, your eyes darting to the camera, then back to his. You try to suppress a grin and give him a little shake of your head.
“Do you trust me?”
Feeling a little giddy, you roll over, pulling your hair over your shoulder before propping yourself up on your knees. You keep your face in his pillow, your eyes watching the camera laying near you as he presses inside you, the position allowing him somehow deeper.
His hands find your hips and as he starts to move, the grip tightens, pulling little hiss from between your teeth. You’re glad he doesn’t hear because you’d hate it if he stopped.
“Gotta be careful…” he mumbles, his voice strained. “Feels a little too good.”
You hum, a little laugh leaving you. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met, and definitely different from anyone you’ve ever slept with. His playfulness mixed with the dominance that peeks out on occasion is a potent combination you can’t seem to get enough of.
He uses his grip on your hips to pull you back into him, his pace slower, but the feeling of him nudging at your cervix with every stroke makes up for the change in speed. He rubs a hand over the curve of your ass as he slows down and releases his grip.
“Goddamn, that’s beautiful.”
The camera disappears and you push up on your forearms, suddenly shy and nervous and feeling like a shot of that isn’t quite as artistic as the rest of your photos. You look at him over your shoulder, a little suspicious.
“No, no no. Your back, your hair on the pillow,” he reassures you, a warm hand on your back. You giggle a little, laying back down. He splays your hair across the pillow, then taps your arm. “Move this up under you.” You do as he says, one arm and hand under you, the other hand above you, fisted in the sheets. His hand drags slowly up your back before he speaks again. “Arch a little more. Like you were before. Yeah, perfect.”
Click.
It lands on the bed, then he starts to move again. He groans, a bit louder than he has been, and you know he’s hanging on by a thread.
“Are you… Are you on birth control?” He asks, his voice slightly boyish in this moment. You can’t help but laugh softly.
“What, you don’t want to knock me up on Valentine’s day?” you joke, and he freezes. You wonder if you said the wrong thing for a moment, but then he speaks softly.
“I’m confident you won’t like my answer, sweetness.”
It takes you a moment to understand what he means, and when you do, you can’t stop the words that fall from your lips.
“Try me.”
He pushes himself deeper into you, so much so he leans over and braces himself on his palm next to your face. He’s closer now when he speaks, his breath hot on your shoulder.
“I’d love nothing more than to knock you up on Valentine’s day.”
Holy shit.
“So no plans in November, then?” you quip, grinning as the weight of him pushes you into his pillow.
“Mm, nothing too big, just a world tour.” he responds, thrusting a few more times. “Super flexible.” he grits out. You can’t help but giggle at his sarcasm, feeling him start to twitch inside you.
“The answer is yes, by the way. About the birth control.”
“....It’d be cooler if you weren’t, but alright.” he jokes, his voice straining as his hips start to falter. You can hear him breathing through clenched teeth as his grip on you tightens. You tighten around him, arching your back just a touch more and as you drop your head between your arms, you see his hand frantically reaching for the camera one last time.
You can feel the tension in your stomach tightening, his hand sliding up to your shoulder to pull you back to meet him. “There you go, baby. Keep squeezing just like that. I’m right there.” he says, and you can tell by the lilt in his voice he is waiting for you.
You rock back, your bodies slamming together with a lewd smack, the sound itself just enough to tip you over the edge. You feel the rush wash over you as he pulls you in, wrapping his arm around your waist as his hips continue to move. He lets out a small grunt with each forceful spurt inside you, and you feel a wave of euphoria sweep over you as you realize he wasn’t joking after all.
“Fuck…” he whines, pulling out of you. You can hear him adjusting the lens of the camera and you’re so caught up in your own bliss you couldn’t care less that he is documenting his work. You feel him rest his hand on your ass, palming your cheek to the side for a better view as he leaks down the inside of your thigh.
The camera clicks, and just as you start to lower yourself down, you feel his fingers swipe up through the warmth dripping down your leg, stopping you in your tracks. You turn over your shoulder to look at him, his eyes completely fixed on you as he slides his cum covered fingers inside of you.
“Just for good measure, huh beautiful?”
You hear the shutter click a few times, a few indiscernible mumbles of praise from his lips, and finally the thud of the camera as it lands next to you on the sheets. He pulls his fingers from you, tapping your ass softly as an indication that you’re good to relax.
The mattress shifts as Sam gets out of bed, his footsteps heading towards the bathroom. The light shines for a moment accompanied by the sound of running water as you wait patiently. He’s back soon after with a warm, wet washcloth, and he gently parts your thighs to start cleaning the mess he made.
It’s quiet as he tends to you, his breathing slowing down as he does. Once he’s done, he slips into bed behind you, pulling your back to his chest.
“So… what are you gonna do with those pictures?” you ask, the smile on your face audible as you speak.
“Well, get them developed, I guess. But aside from myself and the poor person at the film lab, nobody will ever see them. Cross my heart.”
“And me,” you remind him.
“Yes, yes. And you, sweetness.” Silence hangs over the two of you for a moment before he speaks again.
“Will you stay?” he asks, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. You wrap your arms overtop of his where he’s holding you tight, nodding.
“I don’t think you could force me out of this bed.”
–
You’re woken by the warmth of sunshine on your face. Blinking and trying to remember where you are, you refamiliarize yourself with Sam’s bedroom in the daylight. Your eyes clear and focus on the camera sitting on the nightstand.
Sam is in a deep sleep, snoring softly with his mouth open, a few strands of his hair stuck to his face. You can’t help but smile at the sight before slipping out of bed and quietly sneaking through his house to collect your clothes strewn about.
You peek into his bedroom once you’ve gathered all of your belongings and he’s still out cold, only his feet poking out from beneath the sheets. Your eyes are pulled to the camera again, and then an idea forms. You tiptoe inside and carefully grab it, doing your best to remain quiet.
Needing darkness, you head for the bathroom and wind the film. You duck into his other bedroom on the way and grab an empty film canister. Hoping it’s quiet enough to not wake him, you close the bathroom door behind you and wait a moment before taking the roll out and putting it in the black container.
Once you’re done, you retrieve your keys from the cabinet by the door and grab an old receipt he must have just pulled out of his pockets when he was putting his keys in their usual spot. There’s a pencil on the music stand of the nearby piano, so you snatch it and leave him a little note. You write out your phone number, draw a little heart, and put the camera over the corner so you know he’ll find it. You silently sneak out the door and lock it from the inside behind you.
The drive back to your home proved to be shorter than anticipated, the light of day giving you a better sense of your location. You glanced over to the rolls of film laying in your passenger seat, taking mental stock on how many bottles of developer and Blix you had sitting on your shelf. It was times like these you were grateful for your little makeshift film lab, knowing that Sam said he would probably send these rolls off somewhere, and that some poor guy would have to see every lewd act appear right before his eyes.
You snatched the rolls from your seat and grabbed your camera bags from your trunk before making your way inside to your warm house. Feeling grimey, you ran yourself through a quick shower, eager to see what was waiting for you on these rolls of film.
Stepping into your lab you place the film rolls on the table, grabbing your Patterson canister, your chemicals, and your scissors to start the process. You trim the leads on the film rolls, smiling as you see your roll next to Sam’s. With the leads trimmed, you flip the light switch in your completely blacked out guest room, leaving you in total darkness as you pry the bottoms off of the rolls of film.
You load the long slippery strips of film into the plastic spools, screwing the lid back onto your canister before flipping your lights back on. You grab your chemicals and make your way to the kitchen, running the faucet to heat the water bath. It’s been a while since you’d done this yourself, but the process was ingrained into your memory, and you were careful to not miss a single step. You drop your bottles of Developer and Blix into the water bath, grabbing your thermometer from your junk drawer.
Your phone buzzes on the counter as you wait for the temperature to rise, your heart pounding as you see a new number flash across the screen. You make your way back to your lab, grabbing the canister off the table as your chemicals reach temperature. You carefully pour the developer into the canister, agitating it every few seconds while you read the message on your phone.
Unknown:
9:12am: Off so soon? And with my film? Should have known I’d never see those beauties. 😏
Your timer goes off letting you know it’s time to move on to the next step, so you set your phone down, ready to pour the developer out of the canister. Satisfied with yourself for not making a mess, you pour in the Blix, leaning away from the fumes as they waft through the air. You do your duty, agitating the chemical as directed, waiting the allotted time until it's ready to pour out.
You debate answering him right away, trying to leave just a touch of mystery in the air. You decide that you’ll wait until the film is done, teasing him with a photo for his eyes only.
You rinse your film with water to rid it of the chemicals, knowing there’s only a few more steps until you can see just how talented of a photographer Sam really is. You pour in your stabilizer, letting it sit for a minute, biting your lips together as you suppress the urge to text him back immediately.
With a deep breath you pour out the stabilizer, and unscrew the lid, ready to see if the evidence of your night came out in the wash. With shaky hands you pull the film strips from the spools, seeing 36 clear images appearing on the transparent roll of sepia film. A huff of laughter leaves your chest, seeing the negative image of your body in the tiny rectangles.
You suck your teeth as you hang the rolls of film to dry, knowing that in about an hour or so they will be ready to scan into your computer.
—
It seems like it’s taking longer than usual for the film to dry, at least it feels that way as you check for the hundredth time. An hour and some change later you’re dashing back to your computer with the film, scanning it into Lightroom to start inverting the images.
Your breath is stolen straight from your lungs as you see the first image. Your cheeks flame red at the sight of yourself, spread below Sam. You continue to click through the negatives, completely shocked at how good his composition is. You knew he was a hobbyist, but you start to wonder if maybe he missed his calling. You swallow harshly as you continue to look through them, but then you realize just how beautiful the photos actually are. You almost feel bad that you stole them away from him.
You work through each image, inverting the colors until they appear as they really are. You note the vintage look on the film and check the empty roll for the date. You smile as you read ‘86, knowing he shelled out a good amount of cash for that roll, and he decided to use it on you. The film comes out warm and grainy from the low light, but you feel that it adds to the photos, and you can’t think of a better turnout.
Your eyes catch on one photo, and after inverting the colors your suspicion is answered. The long finger shaped outlines on your hips were forever cemented in time. The memory of his grip burned into your mind. His body is connected to yours, and you can almost remember the feeling of him inside you as you look at the photo. You feel a rush wash over you, and you grab your phone tapping a few buttons on the screen until the camera opens. You bring it to the screen and snap the photo before attaching it to a text.
You
10:47am: *Attachment*
10:47am: I had something… pressing…to tend to. 😉
You snicker at your comment, hoping he will get the joke as you add his contact to your phone. You bite your bottom lip in concentration as you continue to work on the images, fixing the coloring and resizing them to the appropriate proportions.
As you reach the beginning of his roll, you start to see images of daily life, with people you don’t know, but are clearly happy to be having their photo taken by Sam. Bright smiles and warm moments captured by his keen eye.
Sammy
10:53am: Wow, um…
You
10:54am: I think they turned out pretty good, what do you think?
10:54am: *Attachment*
You attach another image of yourself draped across his couch, his pashmina spread across your body, the light hitting your throat exactly how he planned.
Sammy
10:55am: You’re so gorgeous, I don’t even know what else to say if I’m honest. I have to see the rest.
10:56am: Do you…Need help? I normally send my film off to be developed but it would be cool to watch.
As you click to the next image you sit in shock, trying to place the face next to Sam’s on his couch. You drop your phone to the table in front of you, trying to focus. You’re going positively crazy running through faces in your mind until it hits you. You take in the features and realize the man sitting next to Sam is the guy your friend was flirting with all night. Your heart starts to race as you make the connection. Is that the friend he left last night? Did she go home with him?
You blow out a deep breath and finish up the last photo of Sam and another long haired man, drinking foamy beers in what looks to be a foreign country. You smile at the bubbly mustaches on their lips and grab your phone to reply to his message.
You
11:02am: You’re a really great photographer, Sam. These shots are really, really good. All of them.
11:03am: If you really want to see the process you’re more than welcome to, kind of makes you feel like a mad scientist haha. I don’t have much going on at the moment, probably going to work on this next roll if you want to join.
Sammy
11:05am: What are you up to tonight? I have a work event I have to go to, but I’ll probably dip out early, especially if I have a good reason. 😉
You
11:06am: I have to shoot a show tonight, but I’m free after that…
Sammy
11:06am: So…
You
11:07am: Bring your film and a bottle of red. I just might have a few rolls we can use while we wait. 😏
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Submission for the next WW:
My period is coming and usually pretty rough cramps come along with that. I can’t help but imagine Sam running his fingers along your lower stomach to try and comfort you all while whispering sweet encouragements. His hands drift a little lower to dip into your underwear but you stop him cause you don’t want him to get messy and you might even be a little embarrassed. He doesn’t care though, he makes comments about it just being some extra slick to work with and he only want his good girl to feel better
Oh, his sweet words would make you relax and just let him do anything he wishes. The sound of the extra slick of blood and his fingers makes you moan, the feeling of your pain melting away as he plays your body so easily, like the musician he is. Coaxing gentle, soft moans from you as he slowly presses two slender fingers inside you, his thumb softly rolling your clit. Your eyes roll back as you enjoy the kisses Sam's peppering on your neck. "Mmm, feels good to let go, doesn't it, baby?" He grins as his fingers brush against that place deep inside of you that quickens your heart and brings his name in whimpers from your lips as you completely surrender to him.
"That's it pretty girl, don't fight it. It's for you. All for you. Take it, baby, take it." Sam's voice rasps into your ear until your clawing on to his back and arm, his fingers never relenting until your cumming for him. You can't help but sigh and hold Sam close to you as you come down, eyes hardly able to stay open. Your eyes meet Sam's, "Oh good girl, did so good for me. Feel better, lover?" He asks as he gently withdraws his fingers, you can't even respond as your eyes are transfixed on Sam's fingers coated in your blood and slick. "So much better." You whisper as you watch him walk to the bathroom, "I'll draw you a bath baby, anything for my girl."
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